Johnny’s late. He’s been gone from the fair all day, and the clock is ticking. You know the tune—it’s that bouncy, repetitive melody that’s been stuck in the collective subconscious of the English-speaking world for over two hundred years. But honestly, if you actually listen to the lyrics of Dear Dear What Can the Matter Be, the vibe is less "playful nursery rhyme" and more "anxious partner waiting at home while someone blows the rent money on snacks."
It’s one of those songs we all "know" without ever really learning. Most people recognize it as Oh, Dear! What Can the Matter Be? or perhaps Johnny's So Long at the Fair. It feels innocent. It feels like a lullaby. Yet, the history of this specific folk song is a messy tapestry of 18th-century consumerism, broken promises, and the transition from oral tradition to the massive sheet music industry of the 1790s.
Why is Johnny so long at the fair? That’s the question that’s driven everything from Victorian parodies to modern-day Barney episodes.
The 1792 Explosion of Johnny’s Long Wait
To understand why Dear Dear What Can the Matter Be is a permanent fixture in our heads, we have to look at the London music scene in the late 18th century. It wasn't just a folk tune passed around by peasants in muddy fields. By the early 1790s, it was a legitimate commercial hit.
The most famous version we have today was published in The Scots Musical Museum around 1792. This wasn't some casual pamphlet; it was a major project that the legendary poet Robert Burns helped curate. However, the song had already been floating around in various forms. In 1792, a version was also published by Longman and Broderip in London, often attributed to the composer and singer Mary Anne Wrighten.
Music historians like those at the Vaughan Williams Memorial Library point out that the song’s structure is a classic "triple time" melody. It’s a jig. It’s meant to be danced to. Imagine a crowded, soot-stained London theater where the audience is humming along to a song about a guy who promised to bring home some hair ribbons but hasn't shown his face yet.
There's a specific kind of domestic tension in the lyrics that often gets scrubbed out of the kid-friendly versions. The narrator lists all the things Johnny promised:
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- A bunch of blue ribbons to tie up her hair.
- A basket of posies.
- A "garland of lilies."
- A "gift of a penny."
It’s a shopping list of 18th-century courtship. But the repetition of the chorus—the "dear, dear" part—betrays a growing sense of frantic worry. Is he just distracted by a puppet show? Or has he been press-ganged into the navy? In the 1790s, that was a very real possibility.
Why the Blue Ribbons Actually Mattered
We talk about the "bunch of blue ribbons" like they're just some cute accessory. They weren't. In the context of the 1700s, ribbons were a significant marker of status and affection. If a man went to a major fair—like the massive Bartholomew Fair in Smithfield—and didn't bring back "Fairings" (gifts bought at the fair), it was a public snub.
Dear Dear What Can the Matter Be captures a specific moment of vulnerability. The woman in the song is waiting for the public proof of his affection. Without those ribbons, she’s just a girl waiting for a guy who might have forgotten her the second he saw a cider stall or a gambling booth.
Actually, some early versions of the lyrics are much more explicit about the disappointment. It wasn't always just about ribbons. Sometimes it was about a "smock of the whitest" or "a pair of silk stockings." These were expensive, luxury items for a working-class person. The song is basically an 18th-century version of someone checking their phone to see why their partner hasn't texted back from a night out with the boys.
Variations, Parodies, and the Victorian Influence
The song didn't stay static. Nothing in folk music does. By the time the Victorian era rolled around, the song had become a staple of the nursery. This is where the "sanitization" happened. The anxiety was replaced with a sort of bouncy, mindless repetition.
But the Victorians also loved a good parody. There are archival records of "temperance" versions of Dear Dear What Can the Matter Be. In these versions, Johnny isn't just late because he’s slow; he’s late because he’s at the pub. The "matter" is that he’s spent the ribbon money on gin. It’s a fascinating look at how a simple pop song can be repurposed to fit whatever moral panic is happening at the time.
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Even the melody has been hijacked. You can find echoes of it in early 20th-century music hall performances and even in the "nursery rhyme" medleys of the 1950s. The structure is so simple—A-B-A—that it’s nearly impossible to forget.
The Scientific Reason It’s Stuck in Your Head
Ever wonder why this specific song is such a massive "earworm"?
Musicologists often point to the "descending scale" used in the chorus. It mimics the natural cadence of a sigh or a lament. When you sing "Dear, dear, what can the matter be," your voice naturally drops. This creates a physiological sense of resolution and repetition that the human brain craves.
There’s also the "simplicity factor." The melody of Dear Dear What Can the Matter Be stays within a very narrow range. You don’t need to be an opera singer to hit the notes. It’s democratic music.
Fact-Checking the "Johnny" Myths
There is a common misconception that "Johnny" refers to a specific historical figure—perhaps a prince or a fallen soldier. Honestly? There’s zero evidence for that. In 18th-century English folk song, "Johnny" or "Jack" was simply the "Everyman." He’s the generic boyfriend.
Another myth is that the song is about the Jacobite risings. While many Scottish songs from that era are coded political messages, most scholars agree that this one is exactly what it looks like on the surface: a song about a fair. The "fair" was the center of the social universe. It was where you bought your tools, your clothes, and your fun.
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The "matter" isn't a political revolution. It’s the universal human experience of being stood up.
How to Actually Use This Song Today
If you're a parent or a teacher, you're probably still using this song. But there’s a way to make it more interesting than just singing about ribbons.
The song is a perfect entry point into talking about history and economics with kids. What would a "fairing" be today? Instead of a bunch of blue ribbons, maybe Johnny is late because he’s trying to get a limited-edition drop at the mall.
Actionable Insights for the Curious:
- Listen to the 18th-century arrangements: Look for recordings by groups like The City Waites. They use period instruments like the cittern or the hurdy-gurdy. It sounds completely different—much more rhythmic and a bit more "pub-like" than the tinkling piano versions in kids' books.
- Compare the lyrics: If you find an old songbook from the 1800s in an antique shop, check the lyrics for "Johnny's So Long at the Fair." You’ll often find verses about "looking-glasses" and "lace" that have been cut out of modern versions.
- Trace the melody in pop culture: Keep an ear out for the tune in movies. It’s often used as a musical shorthand for "innocence gone wrong" or "creepy childhood memory."
- Analyze the "Earworm" effect: Use the song as a test case for melodic repetition. Try hum it, then try to stop. It’s harder than you think because the "resolution" of the melody feels so final.
Dear Dear What Can the Matter Be isn't just a relic. It’s a surviving piece of 1700s pop culture that managed to outlast the empires it was born into. It’s a reminder that whether it’s 1792 or 2026, we’re all just waiting for someone to show up with the things they promised us.
Next time you hear that jaunty little tune, remember the anxious narrator. She wasn't just singing a nursery rhyme. She was wondering if her life was about to change because of a guy who couldn't stay away from the festivities long enough to bring back some hair ties.
To get the full experience of how this song evolved, you should look up the original sheet music from the British Library's digital archives. Seeing the archaic typography and the original "harpsichord" arrangements really hammers home that this was the "Shape of You" of its day—inescapable, catchy, and deeply relatable to everyone who’s ever been left waiting.