"'What news, what news?' Fair Ellender cried; 'What news have you fetched to me?' 'I've come to invite thee to my wedding; Is that good news for thee?' "'Bad news, bad news,' Fair Ellender cried, 'Bad news have you fetched to me; I once did think I would be your bride, And you my bridegroom would be.' "'O mother, O mother, come riddle my sport, Come riddle it all as one; Must I go to Lord Thomas's wedding, Or tarry with thee at home?' "'Oh, enemies, enemies, you have there; The Brown Girl she has none; I charge you on my blessing, fair daughter, To tarry this day at home.' "'There may be few of my friends, mother, And many more of my foes; But if I never return again, To Lord Thomas's wedding I'll go.' "She dressed herself in scarlet-red, Her maidens she dressed in green, And every town that she rode through They took her to be some queen. "She rode, she rode, till she came to the Hall; She tingled all on the ring; Nobody so ready as Lord Thomas himself To rise and bid her come in. "He took her by the lily-white hand, He led her through the hall, And set her down in a golden chair, Among the ladies all. "'Is this your bride,' Fair Ellender cried, 'That looks so wonderful brown? You once could have married as fair a ladie As ever the sun shone on!' "'Despise her not, Fair Ellen,' he cried, 'Despise her not to me; I'd rather have your little finger Than her whole bodye.' "The Brown Girl had a little pen-knife, It was both keen and sharp; Between the long ribs and the short, She pierced Fair Ellender's heart. "'Oh, what is the matter?' Lord Thomas, he cried. 'Oh, are you blind?' said she, 'And don't you see my own heart's blood Come trinkling down my knee?' "He seized the Brown Girl by the hand, And dragged her across the hall; He took a bright sword and cut off her head And flung it again' the wall. "'O mother, O mother, go dig my grave, Go dig hit both wide and deep, And lay Fair Ellender in my arms, And the Brown Girl at my feet.' "He placed the butt again' the wall, The p'int again' his heart. Did you ever see three true-lovers meet That had so soon to part?" Then followed many another ancient ballad, passed down through the centuries by word of mouth in England and Scotland; brought across the seas, to be cherished in the rough pioneer days as reminders of the old home; and, later, forgotten in the stress of American life by the more fortunately placed, to become to the mountaineer, in his isolation, the sole outlet for imagination and fancy, the chief source of inspiration and ideals. The tunes themselves were invariably minor, and weird beyond credence, harking back, most of them, to a time before the development of the present musical scale, when the primitive one then in use possessed only five notes.