And slander is sinful and gossip wrong, But country memories are long, The Appleton clan is a worthy clan But we remember the dancing-man. The girl is pretty, the girl seems wise, The girl was born with her father’s eyes. She will play with our daughters and know our sons, We cannot offend the Appletons. Bristols and Wingates, Shepleys and Crowls, We wouldn’t hurt her to save our souls. But after all⁠—and nevertheless⁠— For one has to think⁠—and one must confess⁠— And one should admit⁠—but one never knows⁠— So it has gone, and so it goes, Through the sun and the wind and the rainy weather Whenever ladies are gathered together, Till, little by little and stitch by stitch, The girl is put in her proper niche With all the virtues that we can draw For someone else’s daughter-in-law, A girl to be kind to, a girl we’re lucky in, A girl to marry some nice Kentuckian, Some Alabaman, some Carolinian⁠— In fact, if you ask me for my opinion,