205. Thimble Buried His Wife at Night

205
Thimble Buried His Wife at Night

This is a fragment of a humorous ballad probably British by
origin, though I have found it only in Virginia (JAFL viii 159-60;
Davis lists it also, FSV 161). It tells how, when Thimble's scold-
ing wife lay dead, he grieved at the thought that the diamond ring
on her finger would be buried with her ; how, when the sexton
came to cut off her finger and save the ring, the corpse rose up

and screamed at him, 'D n you, you dog, you shall do no such

thing !' and rushed off to the house, where her husband

 

OLDER BALLADS — MOSTLY BRITISH 485

looked from the casement and said with a grin,
'You are dead, dearest duck, and I can't let you in.'

The refrain lines in the Virginia version are from one of the
forms of 'The Frog's Courtship,' running

Heighho ! says Thimble

 

With a rowley powley gammon and spinach,
Heigho ! says Thimble.

The distinctive "rowley powley" line has been lost from our North
Carolina version.

'Thimble Buried His Wife at Night. Reported by Isabel B. Busbee of
Raleigh in December 1938, as learned from her great-aunt, Miss Louisa
Nora Taylor, who lived from 1823 to 1914.

Thimble buried his wife at night,
*Heigh-ho,' said Thimble.
'I grieve to sew up my heart's delight
With a diamond ring on her finger so tight.
Heigh-ho,' said Thimble.