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From: ph@wucec2.UUCP
Newsgroups: net.jokes
Subject: Re: preachers bull
Message-ID: <1399@wucec2.UUCP>
Date: Wed, 26-Feb-86 21:59:19 EST
Article-I.D.: wucec2.1399
Posted: Wed Feb 26 21:59:19 1986
Date-Received: Fri, 28-Feb-86 22:39:54 EST
References: <9900428@uiucdcs>
Reply-To: ph@wucec2.UUCP (Paul Hahn)
Organization: Washington U. in St. Louis
Lines: 78


	    Normally, I hate "the way *I* heard it was--" postings, and
	the net has been remarkably free of them lately, but in this
	case I think the changed ending is sufficiently different to
	warrant attention.  If you don't think so, well, I'm sure you'll
	let me know (:-).  I am typing this by memory from an old NEW
	CHRISTY MINSTRELS' CHRISTMAS ALBUM, so if any of you out there
	are avid fans of theirs (:-) pardon me if it isn't exactly
	verbatim.
	----------------------------------------------------------------
		Long time back in my home town
		there was a man of great reknown,
		and his name was William Brown.
		He was a parson.

	    Back when I was just a little fella, we had a heck of a
	fierce winter.  My folks, who were pretty poor, were havin' a
	hard time makin' ends meet, and I knew there wasn't goin' to be
	enough food for a wonderful Christmas meal like we usually had.
	So I went walkin' out in the street, and sang real sad like:

		Merry Christmas we can't keep;
		got no shoes upon our feet.
		We ain't got no puddin' and meat
		for our Christmas dinner.

	    But as I came back in the house, I heard my mother sayin',
	"John, you didn't!  You did!  Goodness, isn't that the parson's
	big black sheep?  My word, what a Christmas dinner this will
	make!"  Well, my heart just leapt up, and I went bustin' out of
	the house again, singin' happy this time:

		Merry Christmas we shall keep;
		Now we've got some puddin' and meat!
		Father stole the parson's sheep
		for our Christmas dinner.

	    "Well, now, that's some mighty fine singing you were doing
	there, son.  Would you mind singing that little song again for
	me?"
	    "Sure, parson," I says.

		Merry Christmas we shall keep;
		Now we've got some puddin' and meat!
		Father stole the--parson's . . . sheep . . .

	    "Yep, I sure do like the way you sing that song," says
	Parson Brown.  "Now, if I gave you a shiny new silver dollar and
	a gold pocket watch, would you come down to church and sing that
	song for me again on Sunday?"
	    "Sure, parson," I says.
	    Come Sunday, the parson leads me down the aisle in front of
	everybody and says, "Now, brethren and sistern, this boy's gonna
	sing a purty song for you, and I'd like you all to know that
	every word's the gospel truth."  Well, I took a deep breath, and
	then I sang:

		As I was goin' out one day
		I saw the parson dressed so gay.
		Hean'MissMollyweremakin'hay
		STEPPEDRIGHTUPAN'KISSED'ER!

	    "Why, that's a lie!"  Boy, you shoulda heard the uproar.
	Me, as soon as I was done I just ran outa that church as fast as
	I could an' didn't stop till I was far down the road to our
	farm, fingerin' the shiny new silver dollar and the gold pocket
	watch in my pocket and singin':

		How I cheated Parson Brown
		out of a watch and half a crown
		tellin' everyone in town
		how he kissed Miss Molly.

	    You know--it sure was a good Christmas that year.
	----------------------------------------------------------------
						--pH
/*
 *	    "Father stole the--parson's . . . sheep . . ."
 */