House Carpenter- McGraw (IN) 1944 Doering JAF
[From: Folksongs of the Corn Belt by J. Frederick Doering; The Journal of American Folklore, Vol. 57, No. 223, Franz Boas Memorial Number (Jan. - Mar., 1944), pp. 72-76. His notes follow.
R. Matteson 2013]
3. HOUSE CARPENTER
(Child No. 243)
Miss McGraw also secured an interesting variant of "House Carpenter," familiarly known as "James Harris" or "The Daemon Lover." Although Brewster includes nine Indiana versions in his Indiana University Folklore Series publication, none corresponds closely to this Madison county text. Perhaps version "C" of Brewster resembles it most of all.[1] This probably can be explained by the fact that Miss McGraw first heard "House Carpenter"[2] from two Hoosier relatives of Mrs. Orpha Francis, Pikeville, Kentucky, who knew many of the ballads popular in her childhood.
"Well met, well met, my old true love!
Well met, well met!" said he.
"I've just returned from the salt, salt sea.
It is all for the sake of thee.
"I could have married the king's daughter;
And she would have married me.
But I refused those crowns of gold
All for the sake of thee."
"And if you could have married the king's daughter,
I'm sure you were to blame;
For I've married a house carpenter,
And he is a very fine man."
"And if you'll forsake your house carpenter
And go along with me,
I'll take you where the grass grows green
On the banks of the sweet Relee."
"If I forsake my house carpenter
And go along with thee,
What have you for to maintain me with
And keep me from slavery?"
"I have seven ships on the ocean, love,
All a-sailing for dry land.
Besides I have other property
That shall be at your command."
They hadn't been at sea more than two weeks-
I'm sure it was not three--
'Til she sat down on her true love's lap
And wept most bitterly.
"Are you a-weepin' for fear, my love?
Or are you a-weepin' for your store?
Or are you a-weepin' for your house carpenter
You never can see anymore?"
"I'm not a-weepin' for fear, my love;
Nor I'm not a-weepin' for my store.
I'm weepin' for my tender, little babe
I can never see anymore."
"I hadn't been at sea more than three weeks-
I'm sure it was not four-
'Til my true love ship sprang a leak
And sank to rise no more."
1. Paul Brewster, op. cit. 140-1.
2. Cf. F. M. Barbour, Some Fusions in Missouri Ballads (JOURNAL OF AMERICAN FOLKLORE 49: 295-6, 1936).