THERE AIN’T NO “G” IN MARLINTON
By Andrew Price, first mayor of Marlinton
1871 – 1930
A smart and stylish man was he,
He had a college-bought degree,
He wished to buy some timber land,
And so he took his pen in hand,
But when it all was said and done,
He hurt his friend in Marlinton,
He did a capital crime you see,
Spelling Marlinton with a G.
There ain’t no G in Marlinton,
There ain’t no G in Marlinton,
There ain’t no G in Marlinton,
There ain’t no G in Marlinton.
Jacob Marlin, a hunter bold,
Settled here in days of old,
He camped in a hollow tree,
And spelled his name with nary G.
His partner, a hunter, also came,
Stephen B. Sewell, was his name,
The year was seventeen-fifty-one,
They founded the town of Marlinton.
While they dwelt in solitude,
Sewell got in an ugly mood;
He took his knife and on a tree,
Cut M A R L I N G.
Then Jacob Marlin, mighty quick,
Fell on him like a thousand brick,
For it always riled his family,
For folks to spell the name with G.
Old Jacob Marlin died in bed,
Sewell –– the Indians killed him dead.
It was an awful fate, but he
Was prone to use the extra G.
Let all take warning from his fate,
And when our town they designate,
They sure must mind their p’s and q’s,
This awful G we can’t excuse.
