Time:
1:27
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Lyrics
I bought me a wife in the month of
June,
Rizzelty Razzelty, now, now, now!
I carried her home by the light of the moon;
Rizzelty, razzelty, hay John Dabbelty,
Wilmety-wamety, rustigo-quality,
Niggity, naggity, now, now, now!
She churns her butter in dad's old boot,
Rizzelty Razzelty, now, now, now!
And for a dasher she used her foot
Rizzelty, razzelty, hay John Dabbelty,
Wilmety-wamety, rustigo-quality,
Niggity, naggity, now, now, now!
When the butter came out 'twas a grizzly gray,
Rizzelty Razzelty, now, now, now!
The cheese took legs and ran away
Rizzelty, razzelty, hay John Dabbelty,
Wilmety-wamety, rustigo-quality,
Niggity, naggity, now, now, now!
This music now goes on the shelf
Rizzelty Razzelty, now, now, now!
If you want any more you can sing it yourself,
Rizzelty, razzelty, hay John Dabbelty,
Wilmety-wamety, rustigo-quality,
Niggity, naggity, now, now, now!
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Note
from E.L. Simons (1952): My grandfather Simons learned this song
in western Kansas about 1888 from two brothers, Will and Jake Clayton,
who were much in demand as singers around Eminence.
This song is a much modified descendant
of the Child ballad "The Wife Wrapt in Wether's Skin," Child,
Vol. V, pp. 194-6 version C. [see below] Child
proposed that the song was derived from a story dealing with a similar
theme which was written before 1575. In the above copy the original story
of an irascible wife and her eventual punishment has been lost and the
subject has shifted to an emphasis of her odd behavior.
[Text of Child ballad:
Child 277C: The Wife Wrapt in Wether’s
Skin
277C.1 THERE was a wee cooper who
lived in Fife,
Nickity, nackity, noo, noo, noo
And he has gotten a gentle wife.
Hey Willie Wallacky, how John Dougall,
Alane, quo Rushety, roue, roue, roue
277C.2 She wadna bake, nor she wadna brew,
For the spoiling o her comely hue.
277C.3 She wadna card, nor she wadna spin,
For the shaming o her gentle kin.
277C.4 She wadna wash, nor she wadna wring,
For the spoiling o her gouden ring.
277C.5 The cooper’s awa to his woo-pack
And has laid a sheep-skin on his wife’s back.
277C.6 ‘It’s I’ll no thrash ye, for your proud kin,
But I will thrash my ain sheep-skin.’
277C.7 ‘Of, I will bake, and I will brew,
And never mair think on my comely hue.
277C.8 ‘Oh, I will card, and I will spin,
And never mair think on my gentle kin.
277C.9 ‘Oh, I will wash, and I will wring,
And never mair think on my gouden ring.’
277C.10 A’ ye wha hae gotten a gentle wife
Send ye for the wee cooper o Fife. ]
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