Collected by Max Hunter (H-12)
For Mary C. Parler
Transcribed by Frances Majors
Sung by Naomi Evans
Rogers, Arkansas
August 13, 1958
Reel 255-56, Item 29
My Mother Was a Lady
Two drummers they were seated
In a grand hotel one day;
While dining they were chatting
In a joking sort of way.
There came a pretty waitress
To bring the tray of food;
They talked to her familiarly
In a manner rather rude.
At first she did not notice.
Tom Eberly's reply,
But one remark was made to her
Brought tear drops to her eyes.
She turned on her tormentors
Her cheeks were blushing red,
Proaching at the picture;
This is what she said:
Chorus:
My mother was a lady,
And yours, you would allow;
Perhaps you have a sister
Who needs protection now.
I've come to this great city
To find my brother dear;
You wouldn't dare insult me, sir,
If brother Jack were here.
The two set there in silence
Their heads hung down in shame;
Excuse us, miss, we meant no harm,
Pray, tell me what's your name?
She told him and he cried aloud,
I know your brother, too;
We've been friends for many, many years,
And he often speaks of you.