Scotch Laddie- Tink Tillett (NC) 1924 Chappell A
[Fragment from: Folk-Songs of Roanoke and the Albermarle by Louis W. Chappell, publisher Morgantown, WV 1939. This has only the end stanzas with the parrot.
"Tink" Tillett was one of Chappell's best informants and in the early 1920s Tillett also gave ballads to the Brown Collection. Around 1940 Frank and Anne Warner began collecting songs from him. They write in a CD liner notes: ". . .we learned this song from Mr. C.K. Tillett in the town of Wanchese on Roanoke Island. On that part of the coast live a group of people known as bankers, because they live on the sand banks. A couple of generations ago, they were completely isolated from the world by the Albemarle, Currituck, and Pamlico Sounds which separate their strip of land from the mainland. Tink Tillett knew fishing (it was his trade) and the sea and its ways. He also knew many a fine song which he had learned as a young man from people whose memories stretched back to the 1840's, so he sang his songs with the pioneer flavor which is so interesting and, now, so rare."
The informant Charles Kitchen Tillett Sr. (b. August, 19, 1873 in Wanchese, Dare, North Carolina-- d. April 6, 1941 in Wanchese, Dare, North Carolina) was a musician and fisherman on Roanoke Island, NC. His father was Thomas Tillett (1831 – 1897 Nag's Head, NC) and mother, Sophia Frances Daniels (1832 – 1882). He was married in 1896 to Eleazor G. Gallop (1874- 1968) who also contributed songs and ballads to teh Warners and the Brown Collection. His sons Charles Ketchum (aka-Cliff) Tillett Jr. (1902 – 1985) and Richard (Dick) W. Tillett (1909 – ) also sang the family ballads and songs.
R. Matteson 2014]
A. [Scotch Laddie] Sung by Charles "Tink" Tillett, 1924.
1. O won't you come in, my pretty little bird,
And sit a while with me?
O won't you come in, my pretty little bird,
And sit on my knee, my knee,
And sit all my knee?
I can't come in and I won't come in
And sit all on your knee;
I fear you'll deprive me of my sweet life
Like you did the Scotch laddie, laddie,
Like you did the Scotch laddie.
O if I had my bow and arrow,
My arrow and my string,
I'd shoot you through the tender heart,
Among the leaves so green, so green,
Among the leaves so green.
O if you had your bow and arrow,
Your arrow and your string,
I'd. take my wings and fly home to heaven,
Where I fear you'll never be seen, be seen,
Where I fear you'll never be seen.