Collected by Garnett Peters For Mary C. Parler
John Pennington Fayetteville, Ark. Aug. 12, 1958
Reel 312, Item 11
My Good-looking Man
Just at the age of seventeen,
A damsel in my prime,
I really thought of wedded life And so did at that time.
I stuck upon a blooming youth—
To marry was my plan—
Scarcely six weeks till I was married To my good-looking man.
Scarcely six weeks till Sunday,
One Sunday afternoon,
The sun went down, the ground was dark,
And glittered all around the moon.
The clock struck ten, my love stepped out,
To follow was my plan,
And there I spied another lady With my good-looking man.
They hugged and kissed in tales of love,
They told each other tales;
Thinks I, young man, when you come home,
I'll tan your hide right well.
Just as the clock was striking twelve,
My Willie, he stepped in;
Oh, Willie, Willie, Willie love,
Where ever have you been?
To church, he said. You know you lied.
In such a rugged plan
And I let fly the rolling pin
At my good-looking man.
I scratched his face, I bunged his eyes I rose and tore his clothes I up with a poking stick And laid it across his nose.
He looked just like a chimney sweep And out the door he ran;
There was not a lady fell in love With my good-looking man.
-more-Come all you pretty fair ones In low or high degree,
When you meet with wedded life,
Be sure and do like me.
For when I found I was deceived,
I thought it my best plan
To try a broom and a poking stick
On my good-looking man.
My Good-looking Man Reel 312, Item 11 Continued
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