A Maid A-Being Young

A Maid A-Being Young

Folk songs

This is a recording of Mae Phillips (Maw Maw Phillips) singing the song "A Maid A-Being Young" (Roud 269). Bobby McMillon recorded the tape this is from and introduces the songs there: "[This] was recorded late in 1968 and in the spring of 1969 at Lower Creek, Lenoir, North Carolina, at the home of my uncle Goldman McMillon. Mrs. Walters Phillips, my uncle’s mother-in-law, from Maryville, Tennessee, is singing old songs that she learned as she grew up in the Cosby section of Cocke County, Tennessee. My father’s people were raised there, and that’s where my uncle met Mrs. Phillips’ daughter. Mrs. Phillips is singing love songs and old-timey ballads that she learned when she was a child from different people in the Cosby, Hartford, Tennessee area and the Mount Sterling and Crestmont area of North Carolina."

Bobby McMillon

Bobby McMillon Collection, Southern Appalachian Archives, Mars Hill University

Southern Appalachian Archives, Liston B. Ramsey Center for Appalachian Studies, Mars Hill University

1968-1969

This item may be viewed, downloaded, and printed for personal and educational use, but any commercial use is prohibited without permission from the Southern Appalachian Archives, Mars Hill University. Questions may be directed to the Archivist at (828) 689-1262 or archives@mhu.edu.

mp3

English

Music

Cassette

1 minute, 49 seconds

Well a maid a-being tired --- [Spoken: “I can’t keep the tune of it”]

Well a maid a-being young, she thought it no harm
Well a maid a-being young, she thought it no harm
So she jumped in the bed and rolled in my arms

And it’s what I done there, I cannot tell here
And it’s what I done there, I cannot tell here
But I wish that night had-a been a long year

Well the six months passed, and the time rolled by
Well the six months passed, and the time rolled by
Her slippers wouldn’t button and her apron wouldn’t tie

Well if it’s a girl-child hire it a nurse - silver and gold put money in its purse
Sit it on your lap and comb its little head
And don’t forget the night [laughter]

Well if it’s a boy-child name it after me
Put a gun in its pocket dress it in blue
And take it to the girls, like its papa used to do