The Courting of Wilbur Day

(Originally published Wednesday, March 14, 2012.) 

I don’t know if it was due to my own recent misadventures in dating, but I recently was thinking about the whole notion of courting—the ways a man tries to win a woman’s heart—and thought I’d take a look in the collections to see what strategies for courting that men have found to be successful.  I found quite a few stories, including one about a man who brought a woman to a dance and bought a box of chocolates which he proceeded to eat saying to her, “ these chocolates are very good, you should buy yourself a box” (NA 159).  But my favorite piece was a poem I found about the courting of Wilbur Day—one of Maine’s early twentieth century hunters.

Wilbur Day came to the attention of folklorist Sandy Ives around 1960 when he began gathering information about a notorious poacher from the 1880s from Washington County known as George Magoon for a book he published  in 1988: George Magoon and the Downeast Game War.  In the course of his investigations he discovered that another man from Washington County, Wilbur Day along with Calvin Graves had been involved with Magoon in illegal hunting.  Graves had killed two game wardens and Day had burned down the warden’s house and barn consequently serving a three-year jail sentence.  One day a student by the name of  Jane Kazutow brought Sandy a copy of a manuscript autobiography of Wilbur Day which he later published as the twenty-fifth volume of Northeast Folklore in 1985.  Wilbur was single-minded and once he made up his mind to do something, he acted upon his plans without further thought.  In June, 1963 Ralph Hayward of Machias Maine sent this poem in to Sandy which tells the delightful story of how Wilbur courted his wife Susie:

On the old Air-Line in Wesley

On a balmy night in June,

Wilbur Day sat at his table

Listening to his favorite tune.

“When It’s Springtime in the Rockies”

His old Phonograph ground out---

He had heard that tune repeated

A hundred times without a doubt.

But tonight it stirred emotions

That seldom bothered him,

As he gazed upon the rising moon

Above the forest rim.

Though his hounds lay all about him

And they often glanced his way;

There was something that seemed to be lacking

To the mind of Wilbur Day.

“Wouldn’t it be fine,” mused Wilbur,

“If I had a better half,

Someone to do the dishes

And wind the phonograph;

Someone who loved me dearly,

A girl with a pretty face,

Some one with a charming figure

Who would share my fond embrace.”

Then he spoke aloud: “By Judas!

There’s a woman on the hill---

Though she isn’t very girlish

She is quite attractive still.

Guess I’ll take a hunk of deermeat

Up to Susie Trafton’s now---

Though I never did much courting,

Kinder reckon I know how.”

In five minutes he was walking

Up the road at an eager pace;

In his eyes there was a twinkle

And with a smile upon his face.

When his eye caught sight of Susie,

 In her arms there was a cat,

And the pace of Wilbur slackened

And his heart went pit-a-pat.

And he thought, “She’s got affection

For that cat—why not me?

And though that cat is in her arms

That’s where I hope to be.”

Then he called “Hello there, Susie!

I’ve some deermeat and it is good.

Do you s’pose that you could use some?

”And she said “You bet I could!”

Then she smiled upon him sweetly

And she said, “Won’t you come in?”

“Oh, I guess I’ll stop a minute,”

Answered Wilbur with a grin.

Then he cleared his throat and blurted:

“Gosh, Susie, I can’t see

Why we couldn’t both be happy

 If you’d come and live with me.

There’s a preacher at the corner---

He could marry us alright—

What do you say I hitch the horse up

And we’ll get hitched tonight?”

“It’s so sudden,” answered Susie,

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll be back in twenty mintues,”

Answered Wilbur, “after you.”

Then he put his arms around her

And she let him hold her tight

And he said, Your name, Miss Trafton,

Will change to Day tonight.”

Now you’ve heard about the courting

Of the poacher, Wilbur Day---

“Guess I was a little hasty,”

His old pals have heard him say. (NA1534)