--Jessie Stewart MOUNTAIN DOCTOR This ballad was composed and set to tune by Jilson Setters, the Singin' Fiddler of Lost Hope Hollow, who can neither read nor write, yet who has composed and set to tune more than one hundred ballads, some of which the late Dr. Kittredge of Harvard declared "will live as classics." A very kindly doctor, a friend, I quite well know, He owned a mighty scope of land, some eighty year ago. The doctor had an old-time house, built from logs and clay, A double crib of roughhewn logs, it was built to stay. The doctor he would fish and hunt, He would bring in bear and deer; He was content and happy in his home with his loved ones always near. The doctor owned a faithful horse, He rode him night and day; He had nothing but a bridle path To guide him on his way. The panther was his dreadful foe, It often lingered near; The doctor always went well armed, He seemed to have no fear. He made himself a nice warm coat From the pelt of a brown woolly bear; Often I loved to trace its length With eager hands through shaggy hair. The forepaws fitted round his wrists, The hind parts reached to his thighs, And of the head he made a cap That sheltered both his ears and eyes. The doctor dearly loved the woods, He was raised there from a child; He was very fond of old-time ways, If you scoffed them, he would chide. He was good and sympathetic, He traveled night and day; He doctored many people, Regardless of the pay. Nels Tatum Rice was his name, He was known for miles around; Far beyond the county seat, 'Long the Big Sandy up and down. His mother wove his winter clothes, As a boy he'd case their furs; With them to the county seat, But once a year he'd go. The merchant he would buy the fur, It gladdened the boy's heart. He had money in his jeans, When for home he did start. Boys, them days was full of glee, Both husky, fat and strong. Nels very soon retraced his steps, It didn't take him long. Safely, of home once more in sight, The boy quite glad did feel. For he could hear old Shep dog bark, Hear the hum of the spinning wheel. --Jilson Setters MOUNTAIN WOMAN 'Tain't no use a-sittin' here And peerin' at the sun, A-wishin' I had purty things, Afore my work is done. I best had bug the taters And fetch water from the run And save my time fer wishin' When all my work is done.