One Fine Day in the Middle of the Night – Line Analysis 1

A great deal of electronic mail has been sent to us about the rhyme since we first uploaded this page. The material that follows is an analysis of the line variants followed by a composite version and the analysis of a rhyme (Ladies and gentlemen, hoboes and tramps) that is known by at least half of our correspondents as the leadup to the “Two Dead Boys”. However, whether it is a separate rhyme that has been added later to give the original poem more body or is part of the original that has been forgotten by many is a moot point at this late stage. The difficulties with trying to justify linking the parts and calling them a single poem revolve particularly round the inconsistencies with meter and rhyme, and with the orphan lines that still cannot be paired.

The version of the “Two Dead Boys” rhyme given above is clearly not the original way it was composed, even though it includes a great many of the popular elements remembered and recited. Amongst the more obvious inconsistencies are the number of blind men and the problem of which of them the donkey kicked in the eye. That aside, a look at the variants in line composition that have been sent to us by our readers is illuminating, to say the least. Clearly many people are quite prepared to accept both unequal meter in the lines and lines that simply don’t rhyme as being an acceptable aspect of this poem even though the structure of folk poetry very rarely occurs outside strict poetic boundaries.

1. Many slight variants of the first line exist. Among the more popular are:

“One day…”
“One bright day…”
“One bright morning…”
“Early in the morning, late at night”
“Early one morning, late at night”
“Late last night in the middle of the morning”

also

“‘Twas on a dark and moonlit night”

and

“One dark night in the middle of the day,
Two dead boys got up to play.”

which someone else sent in as:

“Late one night in the middle of the day,
Two dead soldiers got up to fight.”

The first lines of these last two variants were reversed by a third reader who had it linked with the second line as in variant one.

2. The second line has also been sent in as:

“Two dead boys came out…”
“Two dead boys prepared…”
“Two dead boys rose up…”

3. Strange things happen when we come to line three. In some versions of the rhyme the poem veers off at a tangent, which we will come to after first looking at the more closely associated variants. Lines 5 and 6 either by themselves or both together, or with either or both lines 7 and 8 are recited by some before they come to our line 3 above. Otherwise readers have sent in:

“They turned their backs and faced each other,”

followed by:

4. Line four, which occurs also as:

“Pulled their swords (also “knives”) and shot each other”

And with the alternate endings: “…shot one another” and, “…shot another.”

5. As I mentioned above this line, and the three related lines that follow, are often placed before our line three. Wherever they appear however, they also include variants; some more and some less significant. In a number of versions the rhyme has been less well-remembered and, in consequence, the order of these four lines occurs rather randomly, either as single, disjointed entities or in odd permutations, not all of which are cited below. Specific to line five, however, is found:

“One had no eyes, the…”

6. Line six also occurs as both:

“So they chose a monkey…”

and:

“So they chose the Devil…”

7.  And line seven was sent in as:

“The blind man…”
“One blind man …”
“An eye-less man…”

and:

“With three blind men to…”

8. Line number eight turned up as:

“One dumb man…”
“A Tongue-less man went…”
“And thirty mutes to…”

   also:

“And two lame men came to carry them away.”

   In one instance a reader, brought up in Colorado, remembered two lines dating back to the mid 1950’s that followed these lines:

“A mute onlooker shrieked in fright
And a lame man danced at the ghastly sight.”

  And another remembered:

“A mute psychotic shrieked in fright
With words of joy at this ghastly sight.”

  That appeared further on.

9.  Few versions include line nine and its associated line(s).

10. However, when they do, lines nine and ten remain pretty much the same as appears above.

11. Line eleven has also been sent in with the ending, “…the missing wall”

12. Which was followed in line twelve by, “Into a dry ditch and splashed them all.”

13. The deaf policeman has remained pretty constant throughout although he also appears as:

“The old deaf cop that heard the noise”

  and a couple of readers doubled the policeman making them: “Two deaf policemen…”

14.  And what happened to the two dead boys in line 14 remained pretty much the same with most readers, although in one    instance the were arrested and not shot (or killed) and in another they were referred to as the “twice dead boys”. “The old deaf cop that heard the noise”, noted above,

“Came to beat the living daylights out of the two dead boys.”

  In one case the two deaf policemen:

“Drew their guns and stabbed the poor boys.”

  While another deaf policeman actually:

“Came and rescued the two dead boys.”

  And a very proper policeman:

“Came to investigate the two dead boys.”

  Then there was:

“A deaf policeman heard the noise,
Of the stabbing of the two dead boys.”

15.  Line fifteen often occurs as, “…this lie…” or, “…my tale…” but also as:

“If you don’t believe this little lie is true”
“If you don’t believe my lies” (which didn’t actually rhyme with anything that followed)

  and

“If you don’t think my tale is tall” – which rhymes with, “…he saw it all.”

   One person also left off the leading word, “If” and made the line into a question with a question mark at the end: “You don’t believe this story’s true?”

In two other versions the line simply became, “If you don’t believe me”, which also didn’t actually rhyme with anything that followed.

16. The last line: “Ask the blind man he saw it too!” (“…he saw it all.”) is pretty standard although it reminded Ronan O Sullivan, in Ireland, of another rhyme also recited by a 77 year old neighbour:

“I see” said the blind man, “A hole in the wall.”
“Don’t be a fool” said the dummy, “There’s no hole at all.”

  Elsewhere (just to play safe) it also became:

“And if you don’t believe this tale,
Then ask the blind man in the jail.
He saw it all.”

  and

“If you doubt what I didn’t say,
Ask my blind brother…
He saw it all.”

There was also one blind man saw it all:

“Through a knothole in a wooden brick wall.”