The oldest son was a goodly man, He was, he was,

voiceCollected by Max Hunter (H-9) For Mary C. Parler Transcribed by Frances Majors Sung by Fred Smith Bentonville, Arkansas June 22, 1958 Reel 251-52, Item 9 The Prodigal Son The oldest son was a goodly man, He was, he was, He was built on the moody and sanky plan, He was, he was; With a common sanctimonious face, He talked about love and undying grace, And hoped for a seat in that heavenly place. Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la The youngest son was a son-of-a-gun, He was, he was, He shuffled the cards and he played for mon, He did, he did; He wore a red tie and a high-standing collar, Go out with the boys, get drunk and then holler, Oh, he's a regular fim-dandy-loller. Sing tra-lar- la-la-la-la-la Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la The old man tried to do his best, He did, he did, The prod took his share and he went out west, He did, he did; Fell in with some cowboys and had a big time, Woke up in the morning with ne'er a dime, Stranded way off in a foreign clime. Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la A telegraph man in his office sat,. Out west, out west, Went in and registered without any hat Or coat, or vest; He says, send this message right over the track, "The prod is wrecked and is coming back, Have plenty of veal for one on the racks." Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la The Prodigal Son (Cont'd) Reel 251-52, Item 9 (Cont'd) The answer he got was both short and direct, It was, it was, It said, "Yours received, go to thunder, collect," It did, it did; But the prod was quite used to these knock-downs of fate, So he p awned his suspenders and put on a skate, And started for home on a limited freight. Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la To a lawyer's office he went next day, He did, he did, And sued the old folks for his pay while away, He did, he did; Got out an injunction and turned them both out, Oh, repeal the law you'll hear me shout, That's the kind of a prod I'm singing about, Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la That's all that there are yours truly knows, It is, it is, I went as far as the parable goes, I have, I have; I never heard what become of Pa, The religious brother's tending bar, And the prodigal is driving a car. Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-la Sing tra-la-la-la-la-la-laFunding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation