"The Washing Day" (circa 1815-1819)
A Ballad for Wet Weather
(Words and Music -- anonymous)

Philadelphia, PA: G. E. Blake, 13 South East Fifth Street
[Source: facsimile copy on pp. 225-226 from "Songs of 
Yesterday: A Song Anthology of American Life" by 
Philip D. Jordan and Lillian Kessler (Garden City, NY:
Doubleday, Doran & Co., Inc., 1941; also,
049/083@Levy]

1. The sky with clouds was overcast,
  The rain began to fall;
My wife, she whipp’d the children,
  And rais’d a pretty squall;
She bade them with a frowning look,
  To get out of her way;
Oh! the deuce a bit of comfort’s here,
  Upon a washing day!
{REFRAIN 1]
For ’tis thump, thump, scrub, scrub,
  scold, scold away,
The de’il a bit of comfort’ss here,
  Upon a washing day.

2. My Kate, she is a bonny wife,
  There’s none so free from evil
Unless upon a Washing day,
  And then she is the devil!
The very kittens on the earth,
  They dare not even play,
Away they jump with many a bump
  Upon the Washing day.
{REFRAIN 2]
For ’tis thump, thump, scrub, scrub,
  scold, scold away,
The de’il a bit of comfort’ss here,
  Upon a washing day.

3. I met a friend who ask’d of me,
 “How long’s poor Kate been dead?”
Lamenting the good creature, gone
  And sorry I was wed
To such a scolding vixen, while
  He had been far away!
The truth it was, he chanced to come
  Upon a Washing day!
{REFRAIN 3]
When ’tis thump, thump, scrub, scrub,
  scold, scold away,
The de’il a bit of comfort’ss here,
  Upon a washing day.

4. I ask’d him then, to come and dine,
  “Come, come,” quoth I,  “Ods buds!
I’ll no denial take, you must;
  Tho’ Kate be in the auds!”—
But what we had to dine upon
  In truth I cannot say,
But I think he’ll never come again,
  Upon a Washing day!
{REFRAIN 4]
When ’tis thump, thump, scrub, scrub,
  scold, scold away,
The de’il a bit of comfort’ss here,
  Upon a washing day.

5. On that sad morning, when I rise,
  I put a fervent prayer,
To all the Gods, that it may be
  Throughout the day quite fair!
That not a Cap or Handkerchief
  May in the ditch be laid—
For should it happen so egad,
  I get a broken head!
{REFRAIN 5]
For ’tis thump, thump, scrub, scrub,
  scold, scold away,
The de’il a bit of comfort’ss here,
  Upon a washing day.

6. Old Homer sang a royal wash,
  Down by a chrystal river;
For dabbling in the palace halls
  The King permitted never—
Oh high Olympus, Beauty’s queen
  Such troubles well may count,
While Jove and Juno with their train
  Put all their washing out!
[MORAL [AFTER LAST VERSE]]
Ah! happy gods, they fear no sound,
  Of thump and scold away;
But smile to view the perils of
  A mortal Washing day!