The Holly Twig (A Week's Work Well Done)
On Monday morning I married a wife,
Thinking to live a sober life;
But as it turned out I'd bet-ter been dead,
Than rue the day that I got wed,
cho: Lad-dy-I-O! Fad-dy-I-O!"
Sing fal-re-lal-lal-lal lad-dy-I-O!"
On Tuesday morning I went to the wood,
Thinking to do my wife some good,
I cut a twig of holly so green,
The roughest and toughest that ever was seen.
On Wednesday morning I put it to dry,
On Thursday morning I gave it a try,
I wholloped her back and I wholloped her wig,
Until I broke my holly twig.
On Friday morning to my surprise,
A little before the sun did rise,
She opened her clatter and scolded more,
Than ever I'd heard in my life before.
On Saturday morning I began again,
So I beat her again very much the same,
And the Devil came in, in the midst of the game,
And stole her away both blind and lame.
On Sunday morning I dined without,
A scolding wife or a bawling bout,
I could enjoy my bottle and friend,
And have a fresh wife at the week's work's end.
From Marrow Bones, E.F.D.F. Publications; 1965
Collected in Basingstoke, Hants, England; 1906
(Probably an 18th century broadside. AJS