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THE
ARKANSAS TRAVELLER'S
SOISTQSTER :
CONTAINING THB
Celebrated Story of the
Arkansas Traveller,
With the Music for
Violir 01 Piano*
AND ALSO
AD Extensive and
Choice Collection of
New and Popular
Comic and Sentimental Songs
HEW TOEK:
DICK & FITZGERALD, PUBLISHBB8
18 Awn STREET.
Act of CongreM in the year 1864, tj
DICE ft FITZGERALD,
* *.J th* CliarkU* &&$ tj Ipitrtot Goon for the Southern District of New York.
* v :*: ^.*
tt 1 1 tt t *
MM
A lOTTLB SONO OF LlTTLK THINH9 82
ALL MANKIND ARK WORMS J9
AM I NOT. FONDLY THINE OWN ? 81
ANN IK LAURIE 48
A VERY GOOD HAND AT IT 87
BACHELOR BARNEY O\NEIL 62
vsTCISELLING THE BtlRPAL-CLUB 89
COME, SIT THEE DOWN 86
DOCTOR OTooLE 66
DON GIOVANNI 47
FLOW GENTLT, SWEET AFTON 67
HIGGINS'S BALL 67
HIGHLAND MARY 84
I'D BE A BLUE-BOTTLE 86
I'LL BE NO SUBMISSIVE WIFE 60
JAKE SCHNEIDER'S DAUGHTER 26
JANE O'MALLEY 58
KATHLEEN O'EEGAN 81
KATTY O'KANN 28
LITTLE MORE CIDER 80
LODGINGS IN PAT MCGARADIE'S &4
MEET ME, Miss MOLLY MALONB 65
MONEY is YOUR ONLY FRIEND 16
MY OWN NATIVE LAND . . 27
Not KO! tt
OH, WHISTLE. AND I'LL COME TO YOU. MY LAD .4*
PADDY O'FLANAG-AN '. '"
PARODY ON "MOTHER. I'VE COME HOME TO DiE r **
PHILIP THE FALCONKR fc
PRAYER-BOOKS AND CORKSCREWS t>
RORY O'MORE - 4f
ROOT, Hoo, OR DIE *
BAI BRILL AND SQUINTING WILL 5 r
SUE WAS SISTER TO THE ANGELS 23
SOCIAL SENTIMENTS 71
THE A RKANBAS TRAVELLER 5
THE BANKS < >F CLAUDY , . 56
THE DUTCH MUSICIAN 9
THE FINE OITLD IRISH GINTLEMAN , ..... 60
THE GAY LITTLE POSTMAN 68
THE HAZEL-DICLL 59
THE HUMBUGGED HUSKAND . . 44
THE INDIAN'S PRAYKR 42
THE LANDLADY OF F RANGE 58
THE NEUTRAL ENGLISH GENTLEMAN ,.... 1-2
THE SAILOR-BOY'S GOOD-UY 43
THE SEVEN DAYS' F IGHT 14
THE SHIELD, THE FISHHALL, AND THE SEWING-MACHINE 28
THE THEATRE ON A BENEFIT NIGHT 17
i'K? WEDDED BACHELOR 20
TIT FOR TAT 88
TOASTS FOR ALL TIMKS ... 71
V AOOB SCHNAPPS AND PKDER SCHPIKK 41
TFE
ARKANSAS TRAVELLER'S
SONG-BOOK.
THE ARKANSAS TRAVELLER,
By MOSE CASK.
(Published, in sheet-music form, by BLODGETT & BRADFORD, Musio
Publishers. Buffalo.)
THIS piece is intended to represent an Eastern man's ex-
perience among tl>e inhabitants of Arkansas, showing theii
hospitality and the mode of obtaining it.
Several years since, ho was travelling the stafb to Little
Bock, the capital. In those days, railroads had riot been
heard of, and the stage-lines were very limited; so, under
the circumstances, he was obliged to travel the whole dis-
tance on foot. One evening, about dusk, he came across a
small log house, standing fifteen or twenty yards from the
road, and enclosed by a low rail fence of the most primitive
description. In the doorway sat a man, playing a violin'
the tune was the then most popular air in that region
namely, " The Arkansas Traveller." He kept repeating the
first part of the tune over and over again, as he could not
pluy the second part. At the time the traveller reached
the house it was raining very hard, and he was anxious to
obtain shelter from the storm. The house looked like any
thing but a shelter, as it was covered with clapboards, and
'he rain was leaking into every part of i*. The old mar/s
laughter Sarah appeared to be getting supper, while a
1*
THE ARKANSAS TRAVELLER.
small boy was setting the table, and the old lady sat in the
doorway near her husband, admiring the music.
L'he stranger, on coming up, said, "How do you do?"
The man merely glanced at him, and, continuing to play
replied, " I do as I please."
Stranger. How long have you been living here?
Old Man. D r ye see that mountain thar? Well, that was
thar when I come here.
S. Can I stay here to-night?
0. M. No 1 ye can't stay here.
/S. How long will it take me to get to the next tavern?
0. M. Well, you'll not get thar at all, if you stand thar
foolin' with me all night! (Plays.)
4 * *
^EE*EScEES
THE ARKANSAS TRAVELLER.
S. We'll, how far do you cull it to the next tavern?
0. M. I reckon it's upwards of some distance ! (Play*
again, as above.)
S. I am very dry do you keep any spirits in your
house ?
0. M. Do you think my house is haunted? They say^
thar's plenty down in the graveyard. (Plays as 'before.)
S. How do they cross this river ahead ?
0. M. The ducks all swim across. (Plays as before)
S. Row far is it to the forks of the road ?
0. M. I've been livin' here nigh on twenty years, and no
road ain't forked yit. (Pluys as before)
S. Give me some satisfaction, if you please, sir. Where
does this road go to ?
0. M. Well, it hain't moved a step since I've been here.
(Plays as before.)
S. Why don't you cover your house? It leaks.
0. M. 'Cause it's rainin'.
S. Then why don't you cover it when it's not raining?
0. M. 'Cause it don't leak. (Plays as before.)
S. Why don't you play the second part of that tune ?
0. M. If you're a better player than I am, you can play
it yourself. I'll bring the fiddle out to you I don't want
you in here ! (Stranger plays the second part of the tune.)
Biig
~.~ =5=:
THE ARKANSAS TRAVELLER.
0. Jf. Git over the fence, and come in and sit down I
didn't know you could play. You can board here, if you
want to. Kick that dog off that stool, and set down and
play it over I want to hear it agin. (Stranger plays the
second part again.)
0. M. Our supper is ready now : won't you have some
with us?
S. If you please.
0. M. "What will you take, tea or coffee ?
S. A cup of tea, if you please.
0. M. Sail, git the grubbin'-hoe, and go dig some sassa-
fras, quick 1 ( Old man plays the first part)
THE DUTCH MUSICIAN.
S. (to the little loy). Bub, give me a knife and fork, if you
(Old
Boy. We hain't got no knives and forks, sir,
S. Then give roe a spoon.
B. We hain't got no spoons neither.
S. Well, then, how do you do ?
B. Tolerable, thank you; how do you do, sir?
man plays the first part again !)
The stranger, finding such poor accommodations, and
thinking his condition could be bettered by leaving, soou
departed, and at last succeeded in finding a tavern, with
better fare. He has never had the courage to visit Arkan-
sas since !
THE DUTCH MUSICIAN,
A Favorite Serio-Comic German Buffo Song,
As sung by TONY PASTOR.
. For the benefit of the English reader, this song is given
with the words spelled as pronounced in our language. As it is
in the original, a duett, we give it here as such, although sung by
Mr. PASTOR as a solo, and with immense success.)
HE.
SHANUS maidschen, wans canst du mauken ?
Canst du shpiela ? canst du shpiela ?
SHE.
Ich can spiel so kliena trumm-el,
Rub-a-dub-a-dub I dans iest mien trammel '
10 THE DUTCH MUSICIAN.
HE.
Siianus maidschen, wans canst du mauken?
Canst du shpiela? caiisi du shpiela?
SHE.
Ich can spiel so kliena fi'fel,
Swill-li-willi-wil! dans rest mien fifel!
Rub-a-dub-a-dub! dans iest mien trummel;
My swil-li-willi-wil !
My rub-a-dub-a-dub !
Dans iest mien trummel 1
HE.
Shanus maidschen, wans canst du mauken ?
Canst du shpiela? canst du shpiela?
SHE.
Ich can spiel so lo'iena gyka,
Faffa-la-la I dans iest mien gyka ;
Swil-li-willi-wil 1 dans iest mien fifel;
Rub-a-dub-a-dub I dans iest mien trummel:
My falla-la-la I
JO" swil-li-willi-wil I
My rub-a-dub-a-dub !
Dans iest mien trummel I
HE.
Shanus maidschen, wans canst du mauken T
Canst du shpiela ? canst du shpiela ?
SHE.
Ich can spiel so klieaa bassgyke
Zoom-zoom-zoom ! dans iest mien bassgyke !
Falla-la-la 1 dans i.est mien gyka;
Swil-li-wil-li-wil ! dans iest rnien fifel ;
Rub-a-dub-a-dub ! dans iest mien trummel;
My zoom-zoom-zoom 1
My falla-la-la!
My swil-li-willi-wil !
My rub-a-dub-a-dub!
Dans iest mien trummel !
THE TTUTCH MUSICIAN. 11
|
HE.
Shan-us maidscheu, wans canst du maukem?
Canst du shpiela? canst du shpiela?
SHE.
Ich can spiel so kliena bombass
Tra-ra-ra ! dans iest mien bom.baas ;
Zoom-zoom-zoo rn 1 dans iest mien bassgykef
Falla-la-la ! dans iest rnien gyka 1
Swil-li-willi-wil! dans iest mien fifel;
Rub-a-dub-a-dub ! dans iest mien trummel.
My tra-ra-ra !
My zoom-zoom-zoom !
My falla-la-la!
My swil-li-wiUi-wil !
My rub-a-dub-a-dub !
Dans iest mien trummel 1
HE.
Shanus maidschen, wans canst du mauken?
Canst du shpiela ? canst du shpiela ?
SHE.
Ich can spiel so klienu triangle
Hic-moc-moc ! dans iest mien triangle ;
Tra-ra-ra! dans iest mien bombass;
Zoom-zoom-zoom 1 dans iest mien bassgyke;
Falla-la-la I dans iest mien gyka;
Swil-li-willi-wil 1 dans iest mien fifel ;
Rub-a-dub-a-dub I dans iest mien trummel ;
My hic-moc-moc I
My tra-ra-ra I
My zoom -zoom-zoom I
My falla-la-la I
My swil-li-willi-wil I
My rub-a-dub-a-dub !
Dans iest mien trummel !
HE.
Shanus maidschen, wans canst du mauken ?
Canst du shpiela ? canst du shprela ?
II THE NELrRAL ENGLISH GENTLEMAH.
SHE.
Ich can spiel so kliena drudlesock
Qua-qua-qua ! dans iest mien drudlesock ;
Hic-moc-moc 1 dans iest mien triangle ;
Tra-ra-ra! dans iest mien bombass;
Zoom-zoom-zoom ! dans iest mien bassgyke;
Falla-la-la! dans iest rnien gyka;
Swil-li-willi-wil ! dans iest mien fifel;
Rub-a-dub-a-dub ! dans iest mien trummeL
My qua-qua-qua !
My hic-moc-rnoc I
My tra-ra-ra !
My zoom-zoom-zoom !
My falla-la-la !
My swil-li-willi-wil I
My rub-a-dub-a-dub !
Dans iest mien trummeJ *
THE NEUTRAL ENGLISH GENTLEMAN,
AIE "Fine Old English Gentleman."
in his island-home that lies beyond the sea,
BehoM the gre-at original and genuine " 'Tis He;"
A paunchy, fuming son of beef, with double weight of chin,
And eyes that were benevolent, but for their singular ten-
dency to turn green whenever it is remarked that his
irrepressible American cousins have made another
treaty with China ahead of him, and taken Albion in
This neutral English gentleman, one of the modern time.
With "William, Duke of Normandy, his ancestors, he boasts,
CJame over from the shores of France to whip the Saxon
hosts :
ind this he makes a source of pride ; but wherefore there
should be
<$uch credit to an Englishman, in the fact that he is de-
scended from a nation which England is forever pre-
tending to regard as slightly her inferior in every
THE NEUTRAL ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. 13
and particularly behind her in military and na-
val affairs, we cannot really see
This neutral English gentleman, one of the modern time.
He deals in Christianity Episcopalian brand
And sends his missionaries forth to bully heathen-land;
Just mention "slavery" to him, and, with a joyous sigh,
He'll say it's 'orrid, scandalous, although he is ready U
fight for the cotton raised by slaves, and forgets ho\*
he bothered the Chinese to make them take opium ;
and blew the Sepoys from the guns because the poor
devils refused to be enslaved by the East India Com-
pany, or phi-lan-thro-py
This neutral English gentleman, one of the modern time.
He yields to Brother Jonathan a love that passeth show:
" We're Hanglo-Saxons, both of us, and can't be foes, you
know"
But, 'as a Christian gentleman, he cannot, cannot hide
His horror of the spectacle of four millions of black beisga
being held in bondage by a nation professing the largest
liberty in the world ; though, in case of an anti-slavery
crusade, the interest of his Manchester factors would
imperatively forbid him to take part on either side
This neutral English gentleman, one of the modern time.
Now seeing the said Jonathan by base rebellion stirred,
And battling with pro-slavery, it might be thence inferred
That British hearts would be with us in this most holy strife ;
But instead of that, John Bull's sympathy is labelled " Neu-
trality," and consigned to any rebel port not too closely
blockaded to permit English vessels loaded with muni-
tions to slip in. And when you ask Mr. Bull what he
meant by his inconsistent conduct, he becomes notori-
ously indignant, rolls up his eyes, and says, "I can't
endure to see brothers murdering each other, and keep-
ing me out of my cotton I can't, upon my life"
This neutral British gentleman, one of the modern time.
Supposing Mr. Bull should die, the question might arise,
" Will he be wanted down below, or wafted to the skies ?"
2
14 THE SEVEN DArs' FIttHT.
Allowing that he had his choice, it really seems to me,
The moral English gentleman would choose a front seM
with his Infernal Majesty: since Milton, in his blank-
verse correspondence with old Trine, more than once
hinted the possibility of Nick's rebellion against Hoaven
succeeding. And as the Lower Secessia has cottoned
to England through numerous Hanoverian reigns, such
a choice on the part of the pliilanthropical Britisher
would be simply another specimen of his neutral-i-ty
The neutral British gentleman, one of the modern time.
THE SEVEN DAYS' FIGHT,
AIR " Louisiana Lowlands."
'WAY down in Old Virginia, not many months ago,
McClellan made a movement he made it very slow;
The rebels they soon found it out, and pitched into our rear;
They got the very d 1, for they found old Kearney there I
Chorus.
In the old Virginia Lowlands, Lowlands, Lowlands,
In the old Virginia Lowlands, k>wl
Again at Savage' Station, we met the rebel foe
That General Sumner whipped them, their list of killed will
show;
Then " Fighting Josy Hooker" came up with his train-f-
He met them on the third day, and whipped them over
again.
In the old, etc.
The rebels they still followed us, their numbers two to one,
But Little Mac he let them know that Yankees would not
run
Mac thought that he would stop the fun, and bring it to an
end
Tho only way to do that was, for Couch's men to send.
In the old, etc.
THE SEVEN DAYS' FIGHT. 15
When we heard that Mac had sent for us, with joy our
hearts did fill,
And we were quickly ready on the top of Malvern hill ;
The rebels they commenced the fight, but we were not dis-
mayed
They might as well have met the de'il, as Howe and hia
brigade 1
In the old, etc.
The rebels they began the fight by throwing shot and
shell:
That was a game, they soon found out, that Couch's men
could them excel.
We fought them from the morning's dawn until the setting
sun
Among the killed and wounded, why, they had three to
one I
In the old, etc.
The Ninety-third the Twenty-third were early on the
ground ;
The Sixty-first, New York Chasseurs, soon showed them-
selves around ;
Then came the First Long Island we all did our work
quite well,
As many a wounded rebel from experience can tell.
In the old, etc.
When we came to James River, the boys began to cheer,
As they saw the little Monitor up the river she did steer.
The rebel General got scared, and unto his men did say
" Here comes a Yankee earthquake, we'd better gel away."
In the old, etc.
Now, all ye politicians, a word I have for you :
Let our Little Mac alone, for he is tried and true;
And you have found out lately that he is our only hope
For twice he saved the capital likewise McDowell and
Pope.
In the old, etc.
16 MONET IS TOUR ONLT BRIEND.
Now I think I will finish, and bring it to an end,
With three cheers for Little Mac he's every soldier's
friend :
I would like all agitators and politicians to understand,
If one can save the Union, why Little Mac's the man.
In the old, etc.
MONET IS TOUR ONLY PRIEND,
A Matter-of-Fact Comic Song,
AIE " Green grow the Eushes, !"
OF friendship I have heard ranch talk;
But you will find it, in the end,
That if distressed at any time,
Then money is your only friend.
Chorus Yes, money is your only friend
Money is your only friend ;
Where'er you go, you'll find it so-
You must have money for to spend.
If you are sick, and like to die,
And for the doctor then you send,
You must to him advance a fee
Ttren money is your only friend.
Yes, money, etc.
If you should have a suit at law,
On which you all your hopes depend,
The lawyers want to see your cash
Then money is your only friend.
Yes, money, etc.
Then let me have a store of gold,
From every ill it will defend :
In every exigence of life,
Dear money is your only friend.
Yes, money, etc.
THE THEATRE ON A BENEFIT NIGHT. 11
THE THEATRE ON A BENEFIT NIGHT f
Or, the Bowery Third Tier,
AIB " Paddy's Curiosity-Shop."
MR. BLUBBS is my name, you must know,
And I'm a genteel sort of man;
A nice little wife I have got,
Whom I always treat wben I can.
To the theatre we went 'tother night
'Twas a benefit night, d'ye see ;
A rich treat I thought we should have,
And so thought my sweet Mrs. B.
Chorus.
There's a small chance of seeing the sights,
It's a fact, as my song it will show,
To those who on benefit nights
To the Bowery Theatre will go.
'Twas six when our lodgings we left,
And to the theatre we went ;
But the crowd there it soon got so great,
All manner of shapes we were bent.
At length up the stairs we were crammed
Some joked, and called it a spree,
To see how my limbs they were jammed,
In protecting my dear Mrs. B.
There's a small chance, etc.
In the Ihird tier we quickly were poked ;
Of our purses we both soon were eased ;
We were stuck 'mongst a lot of fast ladies,
Who seemed to act just as they pleased.
The place was so dreadfully hot,
With myself, 'gad, it didn't agree;
It soon made me awfully sick,
And so it made poor Mrs. B.
There's a small chance, etc.
2*
18 THE THEATRE ON A BENEFIT NIGHT.
We didn't know what for to do,
For we couldn't make our way out;
We were jammed up like plums in a pudding,
And were shamefully knocked all about.
"You fool, take your hat off!" says one;
And another, alluding to me,
Says, "I wonder where he picked her up?"
What an insult to poor Mrs. B. 1
There's a small chance, etc.
At last we got settled a bit,
Not heeding at all what was said;
But we hadn't been sitting down long,
When I got such a thump on the head!
My hat was knocked over my eyes,
And I was quickly unable to see :
"Lord! I want to skedaddle," says I;
"So do I," says my dear Mrs. B. .
There's a small chance, etc.
We managed to squeeze our way out
My nose being nearly cut in two;
My wife's clothes were all sadly torn,
And my visage was quite black and blue.
I went off to get my wounds dressed,
But the doctor first asked for his fee :
I hadn't a postage-stamp left,
And neither had poor Mrs. B.
There's a small chance, etc.
We made the best haste to our home,
And a pretty nice state we were in
Broken nose, broken bonnet and hat,
And our pockets both eased of their tin I
And, although we went to the play,
Not the first single scene di'd we see:
I ne'er went to the theatre since,
Nor I never brought sweet Mrs. B.
There's a small chance, eta
ALL MANKIND ARE WORMS. 19
ALL MANKIND ABE WORMS,
A Highly Popular Comic Song,
Sung by all the Coinic Vocalists.
AIR " Bow, wow, wow I" i
As all we mortals turn to clay, /
"When closed our mortal terms, sir,
I tVInk we may with reason say
That all mankind are worms, sir.
But as there's some may doubt this truth,
And I like to be exact, sir,
Tour patience kindly grant me, while
I'll try to prove the fact, sir.
Chorus Bow, wow, wow, etc.
The Dandy he's a tape-worm,
Made up of stays and lace, sir;
The Tailor he's a cabbage-worm,
That cuts your leaves with grace, sir.
The Lover he's a glow-worm,
That shines but to allure, sir;
The Husband he's a ring-worm,
That old wives best can cure, sir.
Bow, wow, wow, etc.
The Glutton he's a meal-worm,
Still feeding night and day, sir;
The Drunkard he's a still-worm,
That drinks his all away, sir.
The Brewer he's a malt-worm,
A very -jolly one, sir;
The Farmer he's a grub-worm,
That grubs on in the sun, sir.
Bow, wow, wow, eta
The Scholar he's a book-worm,
That besfe on learning feeds, sir ;
The Mier he's a muck-worm,
That on a dunghill breeds, sir.
THE WEDDED BACHELOR.
The Rogue he's but a blind-worm,
That works on in the dark, sir;
The Coquette she's a bait-worm,
That a-ngles for a spark, sir.
Bow, wow, wow, etc.
The Idler he's a slow- worm,
"With laziness he's rife, sir;
The Soldier he's a blood- worm,
Still feeding upon life, sir!
A Maid she is a si Ik- worm,
That changes every way, sir;
And Love " a worm i' the bud" is,
That eats our peace away, sir.
Bow, wow, wow, etc.
And thus I think I've proved to you
That all mankind are worms, sir
Of different kinds and natures, too,
And different shapes and forms, sir:
And since that all our bodies go
To the worms at our tail-end, sir,
Let's hope, like jolly butterflies,
That we may all ascend, sir !
Bow, wow, wow, eta
THE WEDDED BACHELOR,
A New Parody,
Nor a drum was heard, not a signal-note,
As the parties to the altar we hurried;
But each person took their farewell look
Of the bachelor about to be married.
"We married him quickly, at dead of night,
The state of bachelorhood turning,
By the struggling moonbeams' misty light>
And our candles dimly burning.
PAD! ^FLANAGAN. Sf
satins enclosed his breast,
costly attire surround him;
to the bachelor's plain style of dress,
the priest's cloaK iblded around him.
and short were the prayers we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow;
Bui, as we gazed in his face, we plainly read
That he bitterly thought of the morrow!
We thought, as we stroked down his narrow bed,
And smoothed his hmely pillow,
How the mop and the broomstick would fly o'er his head,
And we far away on the billow.
Lightly they'll talk of the one that's gone,
And be-fore his dear spouse upbra'id him ;
But they'll little expect, if they let him pass on,
He'll follow the samples they've made him.
But half of our heavy task was done,
"When the bell tolled the hour for retiring ;
And we knew, by the jingling and rattling of tins,
That a horning was about transpiring.
Sadly and dearly he did repent
Of the step taken in matrimony;
Almost broken-hearted he did lament
" Oh, leave me ALONE for my glory 1"
PADDY OTLANAQIN,
TWAS Paddy O'Flanagan set out one morning
From Dublin, sweet city, to London on foot,
In an old tattered jacket, all foppery scorning,
With a shoe on his leg and his neck in a boot.
Muslm whack 1 in no time he walked over the water,
And soon set his head on England's famed shore;
While for joy ot his safety his stomach did totter
HP SUUK Teddy O'Reilly and Mollj Asthore,
22 PADDY 0' FLANAGAN.
"With his phililu hubbuboo hugamaurainee,
Musha gra, botheration, and smalliloo huh I
A- place he soon got when in London arrived, sir,
To brush up a gemman, and wait on his coat
Where he soon learned to know that jist four beans make
five, sir,
And could tell you a tale with his tongue down his throat.
Now one day, white Pat was hrs master attending,
In his study, where letters around h4m did lay,
When hf begged hard for one to his friends to be sending,
As 'twould save him from writing, and be the best way.
"With his phililu, etc.
Soon after, being sent with a basket and letter,
Crammed full of live pigeons to give to a friend,
Enraged at their fluttering, he thought it was better
To set them at large, and their misery end:
Then on, jog he went, to the place where directed,
But the door had no knocker so, what does he do ?
Taith, he knocked at the next, where the servant attend-
ing
Cried Pat, "It's your knocker I want, and not you I"
With your phililu, etc.
Being brought 'fore the gemman, he gave him the note,
Who said, " In the letter here's pigeons, I find."
41 Be jabers," says Pat, "that's a very good joke,
For they fled from the basket, and left me behind I"
The gentleman swore for the loss he must pay,
Or on losing his place for certain depend ;
Pat replied, " To your offer I'll not once say nay,
If you'll be so kind as the money to lend !"
With my phililu, etc.
Being pleased with the joke, poor Pat got forgiven,
For, though blunder on blunder, no harm there wai
meant:
And if he's not dead, with his master he's living
And when not out of humor, is always content
KATTY O'RANN. 23
SSTay, more, Paddy Flanagan joins in the wish
That the cares 6f our friends may soon find a decrease;
That war may be drowned on dry }and with the fish,
And the world forever taste blessiLgs of peace.
"With my phililu, etc.
KATTY O'RAKB,
WAR no.tfatrick O'Lilt, sure, a broth of a lad,
Who Gartered what money and baubles he had,
~"*r .ue fbve of his sweetheart, Miss Katty O'Rann?
Since ne fell deep in love, 'faith ! no longer the spade
He handled, or followed the turf-cutting trade ;
But sang day and night to make his heart light,
And swore for his Katty he'd die or he'd fight:
Thus did Patric v nT.nt. for Miss Katty O'Rann.
Chorus Ri tol de rol, etc.
He sang out bis love in a sorrowful strain :
His warbling*she heard, but she laughed at his pain
Which he could not bear from Miss Katty O'Rann.
'Twas enough to have melted the heart of a stone
To have heard the poor lad sing, sigh, mutter, and moan,
Wiiile she turned up her nose, which stood always awry,
And plump on another she cast her sheep's eye,
Crying, " Pat, you won't do for Miss Katty O'Raon."
Ri tol de rol, etc.
As he found no impression he made on the maid,
'Faith, he shovelled himself out of life with his spade,
Determined to perish for Katty O'Rann:
For, with spade, axe, and mallet, about his neck tied,
He plunged in the Li'ffey, and there for her died !
As he sunk from the shore, he cried, u Katty, no more
Shall you trouble my spirit, or make my bones sore;
So bad luck to you, beautiful Katty O'Rann 1"
Ri tol de rol etc.
24 PHILIP THE FALCONER.
PHILIP THE FALCONER,
YOUNG Philip the falconer's up with the day,
With his merlin on his arm,
And down the mill meadows has taken his way
To hawk and pray where's the harm?
Philip is stalwart, and Philip is young,
And Philip, they say, has a musical tongue.
The miller's young sister is fresh and is fair,
And Philip he always is hawking there !
For he vows and declares, believe it or not,
There's not in the kingdom, for herons, such a spot.:
And falcons, they say, to fly true to their prey,
Should be trained in the morning early.
The miller's to market to buy him some corn,
For work it should never stand still;
A maiaen is loitering under the thorn,
In the meadow below the mill;
And Philip's grown tired of a bachelor's life
Thinks the miller's young sister would make a good wife:
And so comes a whisper, and so comes a smile,
And then a long leave-taking over the stile.
Oh, when he returns from market, I guess,
The miller will find he's a sister the less 1
For maidens, they say, do not always say " Nay, 1 *
When they're asked in the morning early.
The miller's returned to a comfortless home,
No maiden's sweet voice is there ;
He sought o'er the hills, through the valleys and fielcK
For comfort his spirits to cheer.
But the birds sang less sweetly, the streams murmured lo\v
The winds were all cross, and the mill wouldn't go:
But he met little Mary just down by the lea [hearts free
Now they both had long loved, when they thought thei
" Mary," he said, and her hand pressed the while,
" Shall we talk of our wedding just down by the stile ? n
She blushed, turned away, but she didn't say "Nay,"
So the? married orm morning early.
JAKE SCHNEIDER'S DAUGHTER.
HE WAS SISTER TO THE ANGELS.
SHE was sister to the angels-
For we knew we could not trai.
In that form of radiant beauty,
Any stain of earthly race ;
Like a sunbeam was her laughter,
And of heaven's own blue her eye;
Ai*d we wondered not they took her
r io their home beyond the sky:
Like a shadow that comes flitting
Through some bright and sunny beam.
She has passed away before us,
And has left us but a dream.
There are flowers that fade in summer,
That the spring-time may restore;
But the heart grows sad and weary,
Ere the winter-time is o'er.
In a thousand sunny places
We their beauteous forms may view
But they seem not half so lovely
As the flowers our childhood knew.
So in all that's fair around us,
We in part recall that face,
That had less of earth than heaven,
Yet of each had left a trace.
JAKE SCHNEIDER'S DAUGHTER.
A Parody on " Lord Ullin's Daughter."
By JOHN F. POOLE.
Mit der Tune of u Whack row de dow.*
A VELLER, in der Jersey clime,
Cries, "Poatmau, do not dairy)
Uii I'll gif you a pretzel vine
To row us o'er der verry."
I
JAKE SCHNEIDER'S DAUGHTER.
11 Now who vould cross der Shersey creek,
Dis dark und muddy vater ?"
"Oh, Pm Yon Schunk," der veller shpeak,
" Un dis Jake Schneider's daughter,"
Chorus.
Whack row de dow,
A hunkey boy vos Jacob Schneider;
Whack row de dow,
De gal vos shtole avay 1
" Ve've left her vader's house pehind
Across der shtream I'll dake her;
Un if der mrnishder ve vind,
Mrs. Yon Schunk I'll make her.
Old Schneider's men pehind us ride,
Dey shvear dey'll cut mine vizon !
Den who vill sheer mine ponny pride,
If I am daked to brison?"
Whack row de dow, etc.
Out shpoke der poatman, " You sha'nt vail;
To go, by tarn, I'm ready 1
It ish not vor your pretzel shtale,
But vor your bretty lady.
Shust help der poat vrom off dese logs-
Too heavy 'tis to carry;
Un, dough der mud ish vull of vrogs,
I'll row you o'er der verry."
Whack row de dow, etc.
Shust den^der rain pegin'd to vail
Der pull vrogs sh topped deir squeaking;
Der lady virst mit vright did bawl,
Dor vet soon set her shrieking.
Un den, ash louder plowed der vind,
Un ash der night grow'd drearer,
Dey heard der Deutschenmen pehind
Deir drampling sounded nearer !
Whack row de dow, etc.
MY OWN NATIVE LAND.
"Hurry up your gakes I" der lady sard,
" Dough dempests round us gader;
I doesn't vant a proken head,
Un so von't inoet mine vader."
Der poat vos launched ubon der creek,
Der lovers vent on poard it ;
Der vaters re-shed in trough each leak,
Un loud der shtorm roared it.
Whack row de dow, etc.
Un ven ha-lf vay across dey got,
Trough mud un vater shteering,
Olt Schneider reached der vatal shpot,
His wrath vos changed to shvearing.
For in der poat, in her pest clothes,
His shild he did dishgover;
Yon lovely hand shtretched vrom her nose,
Un von vos rount her lover.
Whack row de dow, eta
"G-ome pack, gome pack !" alout he cried,
" Yorgive your volly I vill."
"Nien! nary pack 1" Yon Schunk replied,
" You may go to der tuyfel !"
Der lovers vent. He turned around,
Mit curses loud un blenty,
Yent to his home, and dere he vound
His money-trawer vos empty.
Whack row de dow, etc.
HY OWN NATIVE LAND,
TVB roved over mountain, I've crossed over flood ;
I've traversed the wave-rolling sand :
Though the fields were as green, and the moon shone as
bright,
Yet it was not ay own native land.
No, no, no, no, no no, no, no, no, nol
28 THE SHIELD, FISHBALL, AND SEWING-MACHINE.
Though the fields were -as green, and the moon shone aa
bright,
Yet it was not my own native land.
The right hand of friendship how oft I have grasped,
And bright eyes have smiled and looked bland;
Yet happier far were the hours that I passed
In the West in my own native land.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yesyes, yes, yes, yes, yea!
Yet happier far were the hours that I passed
In the West in my own native land.
Then hail, dear Columbia, the land that we love,
Where flourishes Liberty's tree;
The birthplace of Freedom, our own native home,
'Tis the land, 'tis the land of the free 1
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
The birthplace of Freedom, our own native home,
'Tis the land, 'tis the land of the free 1
THE SHIELD, THE FISHBALL, AND THE SEWINO-
MACHINE ;
Or, Love, Arsenic, and Percussion-Caps.
Written and sung, with unusual applause, by TONY PASTOR, the fa-
mous clown and comic vocalist.
AIR" In the Merry Month of May."
MY song is of a u Peeler" gay,
A fancy chap that once I knew,
His " beat" 'twas up and down Broadway,
And he looked so fine in his suit of \)luel
The girls would smile as he'd pass by ,
But one there was that met his eye
He thought her the fairest that ever he'd seen
She worked in a shop on a sewing-machine.
(Spoken.) Big thing on the sewing-machine.
Chorus My song, etc.
THE SHIELD, FISHBALL, AND SE WING-MACHINE.
Each even she'd come at six o'clock,
The Peeler for her would wait the wm'le;
The wagons and stages at once he'd stop,
And hand her across with a wink and a smile.
But he had a rival, five feet in his boots,
A sort of a cook down at Meschutt's;
A nice young man of 1'imited means
He was chief-engineer of the pork and beans!
Big thing on the pork and beam
My song, etc.
Says the Peeler, " I'll cut out this ' Fishball.' "
To " Sewing-Machine" he s'howed the cash ;
Upon her each night he used to call,
Which quickly settled poor Cooky's hash.
One night he called, the maid to see,
And found her squat on the Peeler's knee ;
And, what with affright there made him stand,
She was playing away with his club in her hand.
Big thing on the club.
My song, etc.
Cried he, " For to live is now no use 1"
He crept into the coffee-can through the spout;
But, without ever cooking poor Cooky's goose,
He was only half boiled when the fire went out
But, as he was resolved to die,
He swallowed the shell of an oyster-pie,
Then rammed it down with a loaf of bread-
It stuck in his throat, and choked him dead !
Big thing on the Cooky.
My song, etc.
When "Sewing-Machine" the tiews did hear,
For a pound of arsenic she went out ;
She drank it off in a quart of beer,
And threw up till she turned right inside out I
"When the Peeler heard of these sad mishaps,
He swallowed a pound of percussion-caps;
3*
LITTLE MORE CIDER.
Then a gallon of brandy his heat increases,
Till they bursted and b3w him all to pieces !
Big thing on the percussions.
My song, etc.
LITTLE MORE CIDER.
I LOVE the white girl and the black,
And I love all the rest ;
I love the girls for loving me,
But I love myself the best.
Oh, dear, I am so thirsty 1
I've just been down to supper
I drank three pails of apple-jack,
And a tub of apple-butter I
Chorus Oh, little more cider too,
A little more cider too ;
A little more cider for Miss Dinah,
A little more cider too !
"When first I saw Miss Snowflake,
'Twas on Broadway I spied her;
I'd give my hat and boots, I would,
If I could been beside her.
She looked at me, and I looked at her,
And then I crossed the street;
And then she smiling said to me,
"A little more cider sweet."
Oh, little more cider, etc.
Oh, I wish I was an apple,
And Snowflake was another;
Oh, wliat a pretty pair we'd make,
Upon a tree together 1
How bad de darkeys all would feel,
When on the tree they spied her,
To think how happy we would be
When we're made into cider !
Oh, little mor cider, ato.
KATHLEEN O'REGAN. 31
But now old age comes creeping on
"We grow down, and don't get bigger;
And cider sweet am sour then,
And I am just de nigger.
But let de cause be what it will,
Short, small, or wider,
She am de apple of my soul,
And I'm bound to be beside her.
Oh, little more cider, etc.
KATHLEEN O'REGAN,
A BOY in my teen-s, just before I reached twenty,
Among the young lasses would cast a hawk's eye:
Fresh lilies and roses, and posies in plenty,
Graced Kathleen O'Regan, the pride of Athy.
She'd say, "Pat, be aisy! ah, why do you teaze me?
I dread to come near you, and cannot tell why."
"My sowl! neither Jenny nor Nell of Kilkenny
Are dear as sweet Kathleen, the pride of Athy."
" Arrah, Pat, you know that my father and mother
Both think me too young to be married oh, fie !
To stay awhile longer I know they would rather;
Then can't you have patience ?" " Dear Kathleen, not L*
She smiled like a Cupid, which made me -look stupid
My eyes fixed with love, when I found she'd comply;
So bloomed every feature, like soft tints of Nature,
Of Kathleen O'Regan, the pride of Athy.
Then war drove me on to where battle was raging,
Sha kissed me, I pressed her with tears in each eye:
We sighed, groaned, and blubbered she cried so engaging
" Remember poor Kathleen, and once-loved Athy,
Where oft, in its bowers, you've pulled me sweet flowers
If e'er you forget it, I'll certainly diel"
" My Kathleen, to you, love, I'll ever be true, love,
Sweet Kathleen O'Regan, the pride of Athy/
32 A LITTLE SOW OF L. xTLE THINGS.
A LITTLE SONG OF LITTLE THINGS,
A Little Comic Ditty,
Bung by the late JOHN WINANS, at the National and Bowery Theatres,
AIR "Fine Old Ir>3h Gentleman."
I'LL sing to you a little song, in little jingling rhymes,
'Bout little folks and little things in these funny little times,
Their little ways, their little deeds though perhaps I've
little cause,
And very little skill, indeed, to merit your applause
For this is a little history of little modern times.
The little joys of former times have nearly passed away ;
There's very little labor now, and very little pay :
All things with being little here we honestly may charge,
If we except the taxes, which you'll own are very large
For this is, etc.
We've very little orators, who take no little pains
To show the world at large that they have very little bramv
We've little men in Congress, who are no little bore,
Besides a little bank-bill to oppress the little poor
For this is, etc.
We've little swells about the town, who've a very little
purse ;
And pert and prudish little maids, with a little child at
nurse ;
And little foppish dandy sparks, whose credit's very queer,
Who strut their little forms about to quiz the little fair-
For this is, etc.
And then we've pretty little girls, who pore o'er little
sonnets,
With little waists and little feet, arid little fancy bonnets,
Who paint their pretty little cheeks, and play their little
parts,
To win the little men's sweet smiles, and please their little
hearts For this is, etc.
TIT FOR TAT. 33
We've little balls and little routs, where little people go,
To sport their little figures and to sport their little toe;
Littlo sparks and little clerks, just broke from tiieir mamma ;
And little boys who think they're men, with a little sweet
cigar
For this is, etc.
A little smart apology, and then my song is done :
IVe spoke a litAe freely, just to cause a little fun;
My object being, of little devils blue all to disarm,
So if I've gained that little end, I've done but little harm
In this my little history of little modern times
TIT FOE TAT,
A highly Popular Comic Song,
Sung by all the celebrated vocalists.
AIR* The Tickling-Man. 1 '
MR. TIBBS, as they tell me, was not half so bold
As his gay little wife, a most terrible scold,
Who was witty, and pretty, and smart, and all t-hat:
But in truth she'd some reason to scold, I'm afraid,
For she lately detected him kissing the maid !
So he very much stared when she told him one day
" My love, if you like, you may go to the play,
Which is witty, and pretty, and smart, and all that."
Now Tibbs was a lover of plays that were witty,
But much more in love with his wife's maid, sweet Kitty,
Who was witty, and pretty, and srirart, and all that.
With lawless emotion his bosom now burned,
And in secret, alone, by the garden returned;
The moon, with her horns, was just rising to view
Fatal vision, which told him that he was horned tool
Though so witty, and pretty, and smart, and all that.
HIGHLAND MART.
gods ! at that moment his optics descried
His wife, with a tall, dashing youth at her side,
Who was witty, and pretty, and smart, and all that
Mr. Tibbs, bolting out, cried, ,with dreadful grimace,
u Vile woman,! now dare look your spouse in the facvJ"
Shre screamed, and exclaimed, " You base wretch 1 in good
time
My maid has confessed all your wicked design
For she's witty, and pretty, and smart, and all that
" I'm resolved on revenge I your steps have waylaid.
And my cousin, the captain, I've brought to my aid-
He is witty, and pretty, and smart, and all that;
With him you may settle the case in dispute,
And I'll give you, gratis, this lesson to boot :
When next with my maid you would kiss, and all that,
Pray remember your wile may return 'tit for tat,'
If she's witty, and pretty, and smart, and all that 1"
HIGHLAND MARY,
YE banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,
Green be your woods, arid fair your flowers,
Your waters never drum lie !
There Simmer faust unfauld her ro"bes
And there the langest tarry ;
For there I took the last fareweel
0' my sweet Highland Mary.
How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk
How rich the hawthorn's blossom,
As, underneath their fragrant shade,
I clasped her to my bosom !
The golden hours, on angel-wings,
Flew o'er me and my dearie ;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.
AM I NOT FONDLY THINK OWN?
Wi' monie a vow and locked encbracx
Our parting was fa* tender;
And pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder :
But oh, fell Death's untimely frost,
That nipped my flower sae early !
Now green's the sod and cauld's the clay
That wraps my Highland Mary 1
Oh, pale, pale now those rosy lips,
I aft hae kissed sae fondly !
And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly I
And mouldering now in silent dust,
That heart that lo'ed me dearly;
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary.
AM I NOT FONDLY THINE OWH?
THOU, thou, reign'st in this bosom
There, there, hast thou thy throne ;
Thou, thou, know'st that I love thee
Am I not fondly thine own ?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, am I not fondly thine own?
Then, then, e'en as I love thee,
Say, say, wilt thou love me ?
Thoughts, thoughts, tender and true, love,
Say wilt thou cherish for me ?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, say wilt thou cherish for me ?
Speak, speak, love, I implore thee !
Say, say, hope shall be thine :
Thou, thou, know'st that I love thee
Say but thou wilt be mine I
Yes, yes, yes, yes, say but theu wilt be mine.
HO COME. SIT THKE DOWN.
I'D BE A BLUE-BOTTLE,
A Popular Parody,
Sung by Mr. J. REEVE, in Buckstone' s Burletta, "Billy Taylor.*
AIR" Fd be a Butterfly."
I'D he a blue-bottle, buzzing and blue,
With a chirny proboscis, and nothing to do
But to dirty white dimity curtains, and blow
The choicest of meats when the summer days glow.
Let the hater of sentiment, dewdrops, and flowers,
Scorn the insect that flutters in sunbeams and bowers;
There's a pleasure which none but the blue-bottle knows
'Tis to buzz in the ear of a man in a doze I
How charming to haunt a sick-chamber, and revel
O'er the invalid's pillow, like any blue devil I
"When pursued, to bounce off to the window, aad then
From the pane to the counterpane bounce back again!
I'd be a blue-bottle, buzzing and blue,
With a chimy proboscis, and nothing to do
But to^dirty white dimity curtains, and blow
The choicest of meats when the summer days glovr *
COME, SIT THEE DOWN,
COME, sit thee down, my bonny, bonny tove,
Come, sit thee down, by me, love,
And I will tell thee many a tale
Of the dangers of the sea ;
Of the perils of the deep, love,
Where angry tempests roar.
And the raging billows wildly dash
Upon the groaning shore 1
Come, sit thee down, my bonny, bonny love,
Come, sit thee down by me, love,
And I will tell thee many a tale
Of the dangers of the sea
GOOI HAKD AT IT.
The ifcios are flaming red, my lve,
The skies are flaming red, love,
And darkly rolls the mountain-ward,
And rears its monstrous head ;
"While skies and ocean blending,
And bitter howls the blast
And one daring tar, 'twixt life and deatn
Clings to the shattered mast I
Come, sit thee down, etc.
A VERT GOOD HAND AT IT,
A Pavorite Comic Song,
Sung by WILLIAM REEVE, comedian and comic vocaliti
Am "Jeremy Diddler."
To New York I just came 'tother day,
With my pockets all laden with cash, sirs;
I soon took a walk through Broadway,
For I thought I would cut such a dash, sirs.
There I met with Miss Brnily Lee,
And an " open house" being quite handy,
I asked her to step in with me,
And there take a small drop of brandy.
Chorus Tol lol de rol, etc,
She quickly then gave her consent
We went in, and to drink did begin it:
She ordered a bottle of wine,
And guzzled it off in a minute !
At that I began to look blue
Thinks I, "Now it's no use to stand at it"
Hays she, u Sir, believe me it's true
i m reckoned a very good hand at it I"
Tol lol de rol, eta.
4
A VERT OOI> HAXD AT IT.
Then she said that hex stomach felt queer--
Some victuals would give it relief, sirs;
Then she knocked in just five oyster-stews,
Then a large plate or two of roast beef; sift.
She said that the lobsters looked nice
If I'd be so kind as to stand a bit;
She boiced off two in a trice,
For she's reckoned a very good hand at it.
Tol lol de rol, etc.
"We wandered the streets all the day,
And saw what sights there were to see;
At length unto rne she did say,
" I should like a good strong cup of tea."
We quick headed off for Meschutt's
To walk in we didn't long stand at it;
Tl*xo she took tea and cakes for an hour
Oh. she's reckoned a very good hand at it!
Tol lol de rol, eta
Then next pork and beans caught her eye,
So she called up the waiter so swellish,
Ajid ordered a very large plate,
With an oyster-pie just for a relish 1
She then took a fancy to hash,
And asked me if I wouldn't stand a bit;
fihe swallowed just six plates of that,
For she's reckoned a very good hand at it.
Tol lol de rol, eta
I found I was wanting some rest,
So I thought I'd look out for a bed, sirs ;
She said that she thought 'twould be best,
If I'd occupy half hers instead, sirs.
In a moment I gave my consent
Her dwelling it was rather grand a bit ;
Twas tasty and nice, and all that,
For she's reckoned a very good hand *i it.
Tol lol de rol, eta
CHISELLING THE BURIAL-CLUB. 89
Next morning quite early I rose,
But I found such a pain in my head, sirs I
She had bolted away witli my clothes,
And left me alone in the hed, sirs.
So, young men, I be-g you take care,
And love from your knobs pray abandon it;
Or, like ine, you'll be caught in a snare,
By one that's a very good hand at it.
Tol lol de rol, etc.
CHISELLING THE BUKIAL-CLUB,
AIB "Paddy's Curiosity-Shop."
MY old woman one day says to me,
U A thought lias popped into my head
How hard up our young ones would be,
If supposing as how you was dead I"
Says I, " Old gal, tip us your fin
You shall never be hard up for grub'
For to-morrow I'll muster some tin,
And belong to the Burial-Club."
Chorus Tol lol de roL, etc.
I arose up next morning at nine,
Round rny neck put my Sunday cravat;
To my boots gave a jolly good shine,
In the water-pail dipped my silk hat.
Just a dollar I had to a cent ;
With brickdust I my cheeks gave a rub- -
Then to the committee I went,
And entered the Burial-Club.
Tol lol de rol, eta
Then I sent my old woman one day
(As a queer thought came into my head)
To the committee, and told her to say
As how her poor husband was dead 1
40 CHISELLING THE BURIAL- CLUB.
She went, and she pitched th*em a tale-
With onions her eyes gave a rub;
So they gave her some cash on the nail,
So we chiselled the Burial-Club.
Tol I'ol de rol, eta
We next sent some notes to our friends,
My wife and I shoved them about
With " Mister John Johnson intends
On giving a jolly blow-out 1"
We'd a lot of pig's-feet and some bread,
Six gallons of soup in a tub ;
In fact, they were very well fed,
At the expense of the Burial-Club !
Tol lol de rol, etc
I served out the soup in good style,
To show how genteel I had been ;
And the old woman showed 'em, the while,
How fast she could put away gin I
We ate one another, almost
And, after we'd finished the grub,
The old woman gave us a toast :
"Here's long life to the Burial-Club!"
Tol lol de rol, etc.
We had a bass- fiddle and rife,
A banjo, and cracked tambourine;
But, while dancing, 1 noticed my wife
Steal off with a fellow called Green 1
She told me, right bang to my head,
She wished Pd been choked by the grub,
For she'd marry him when I was dead,
With the blunt from the Burial-Club.
Tol lol de rol, eta
We kept up the dancing all night,
Till we couldn't dance any more;
And at last we were put in a fright,
By a thundering knock at the door
YACOB SCHNAPPS AND PEDER SOHPIKB. 41
When a man in black popped in his head,
Like the devil in search of his grub.
With " I've come for the man that's dead-~
I belong to the Burial-Club !"
Tol iol de rol, etc
Our party rushed out of the room, ^
After breaking the tables and chairs;
The old woman snatched up the broom,
And knocked Mister Devil down-stairs 1
We were both taken by the police,
And locked up all night without grub;
And then got a twelvemonth apiece,
For defrauding the Burial-Club!
Tol Iol de rol, etc.
YACOB SCHNAPPS AND PEDER SCHPIZE,
A Parody on "Robin Ruff and G-affer Green,"
By JOIIN F. POOLE.
YACOB SCHNAPPS.
I> I had but a dousand a year, Peder Schpike,
If I had but a dousand a year,
Vot a veller I'd pe, un I'd have sooch a shpree,
If I had but a dousand a year, Peder Schpike.
If I had but ein dousand a year.
PEDER SCJIPIKE.
Vot der tuyfel vas got in your head, Tacob Schnappa T
You ish gra/.y as dunder, I fear!
But I'll listen mit you : dell me, vot vould you do,
If you had but a dousand a year, Yacob Schnapps,
If you had but ein dousand a year?
YACOB SCHNAPPS.
Tot I'd do? I'd puy lots of goot tings, Peder Schpike,
Cwetzer-Kaese, buddings, pretzels, un'bier;
42 THE INDIAN'S PRAYER.
I vould puild a pig house, have a couple of frowa,
If I had but a dousand a year, Peder Schpike,
If I had but a dousaud a year.
PEDER SCHPIKE.
But subbose you gets sick on yo ir ped, Yacob Schnapps,
Mit trinking too much lager-bier?
Un ven you grows old, if your frows 'gin to schold,
Den vot ish your dousand a year, Yacob Schnapps,
Den vot ish your dousaud a year ?
YACOB SCHNAPPS.
Yot, a man sich as me to get sick, Peder Schpike ?
I dinks dat vould pe butty queer :
Mine life I'd insure, uu from Death pe secure,
If I had but a dousand a year, Peder Schpike,
If I had but a dousand a year.
PEDER SCHPIKE.
Dere's a place vot ish petter as dis, Yacob Schnapps.
YACOB SCHNAPPS.
Taw, der shtate von New Yarsey ish near!
POTH TOGEDER.
Let us poth emigrate to dat peautifool shtate,
Un ve'll soon make a dousand a year yaw, iBteed,
Ye vill soon make a dousaud a year !
THE INDIAN'S PRAYER,
LET me go to my home in the far distant land,
To the scenes of my childhood in innocence blest;
"Where the tall cedars wave, and the bright waters flow
Where my fathers repose, let me go, let me go-
Where my fathers repose, let me go, let me go I
OH, WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO TOO. 43
Let me go to the spot wli^ere the 'cataract plays.
Where oft I have sported in boyhood's bright days,
And greet my poor mother, whose heart will overflow
At the sight of her child : let me go. let me go
At the sight of her child, let me go, let me go !
Let me go to my sire, by whose battle-scarred side
I have sported so oft in the morn of my pride,
And exulted to conquer the insolent foe :
To my father, the chief, let me go, let me go
To my father, the chief, let me go, let me go!
And oh, let me go to my wild forest-home,
No more from its life-cheering pleasures to roam:
'Neath the groves of the glen let my ashes lie low;
To iny home in the woods let me go, let me go-
To my home in the woods let me go, let me go 1
OH, WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU,
OH, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad,
Oh, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad;
Though father and mither and a' should go mad,
Oh, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad I
But warily tent, when ye come to court me,
And come na unless the back-yett be a-jee ;
Syne up the back stile, and let naebody see
And come as ye were nae comin' to me
Oh, come as ye were nae comin' to me I
Oh, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad,
Oh, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad ;
Though father and mither and a' should go mad,
Thy Jeanie will venture wi' ye, my lad.
At kirk or at merket, whene'er ye meet me,
Gang by me as though ye cared nae a flie;
But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black e'e,
Yet look as ye were nae lookin' at me
Oh, look as ye were nae lookin' at me I
THE HITMBUGGED HUSBAND.
Oh, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad,
Oh, whistle, and I'll come 10 you, my lad;
Though father and mither and a' should go mail,
Oh, whistle, and I'll came to you, my ladl
Ay, vow and protest that ye care nae for me,
And whyles ye may lightly my beauty awee;
But coun nae anither, though jokin' ye be,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me I
THE HUMBUGGED HUSBAND, (A Parody.)
As sung by the Hutchinson Family
AIR "Alice Grey. 1 '
SHE'S not what Fancy painted her
I'm sadly taken in ;
If some one else had won her, I
Should not have cared a pin !
I thought that she was mild and good
As maiden e'er could be :
I wonder how she ever could
Have so much humbugged me I
They cluster round and shake my hand,
They tell me I arn blest;
My case they do not understand
I think that I know best.
They call her "fairest of the fair,"
They drive me mad and madder :
What do they mean by it? I swear
I only wish they had her I
T Tis true that she has lovely locks,
That on her shoulders fall
What would they say, to see the box
In which she keeps them all?
Her taper fingers, it is true,
Are difficult to match
What would they say, if they but knew
How terribly they scratch ?
THE SAILOR-BOY ' GOOD-BY.
THE SAILOR-BOY'S GOOD-BY.
AIK " Woodman, spare that Tree. 1 *
MY mother dear, I go
Far o'er the distant sea
But let me gladly know
A blessing fond from thee.
The fate that makes us poor,
Calls forth the parting sigh,
And drives me from thy door-
My mother dear, good-by 1
And when in distant lands
I make my exiled prayer,
And raise my folded hands
To Him who'll guide me there
I'll crave for thee each joy,
And He will hear my cry;
Then, smiling, .kiss thy boy
My mother dear, good-by 1
This poor but pretty cot,
On which the sunset gleams,
Will ne'er be once forgot
'Twill mingle in my dreams.
And when from distant climes
Thy truant boy comes nigh,
We'll share the happy times-
My mother dear, good-by !
The thoughts of thy dear form,
Thy cherished voice so kind,
Will cheer me in the storm,
Amid the howling wind.
I dare not now remain ;
But quick the time will fly,
When we shall meet again-
My mother dear, good-by 1
tf BOOT, HOG, OR DIK.
BOOT, HOG, OR DIE,
I'M ri-ght from ole Yirginny, wid my pocko full ob news
I'm worth twenty shillings, right square in my shoes;
It doesn't make a dif of bittereuce to neider you nor T
Big pig or little pig Root, hog, or diof
Chorus.
I'm chief cook and bottlo- washer,
Cap'n ob de waiters ;
I stand upon my head
When I peel do apple- umplinof
I'se de happiest darkey on de top ob de earth ;
I get fast as a 'possum in de time ob de dearth;
Like a pig in a 'tater-patch, dar let me lie,
'Way down in ole Yirginny, whar it's Root, hog, or cdof
I ? m chief cook, etc.
De New York dandies dey look so very grand
Ole clothes hand me down, gloves upon de hand
High-heel-boots, mustaches round de eye,
A perfect sick family ob Root, hog, or die 1
I'm chief cook, etc.
De New York gals dey do beat dem all ;
Dey wear high-heel shoes for to make demselfs tall j
If dey don't hab dera, de Lor' how dey'll cry!
De boys hab got to get dem, or else Root, hog, or die ?
I'm chief cook, etc.
De Shanghie coats dey' r e gettin' all de go
Whar de boys get dem, I really don't know;
But dey're bound to get uem, if ley don't hang too high,
Or else dey make de tailors run, Root, hog, or die 1
I'm chief cook, etc
"I STAND upon the soil of freedom," cried a stump orator.
"No," exclaimed his shoemaker, "you stand in a pair of
boots that have never been naid fo^)"
DON GIOVANNI. 47
DON GIOVANNI,
A Mysterious Melodrama,
VK6 into rhyme by W. T. MON-OBIBJT.
AIR" A Frog be would a wooing go."
THERE lived in Spain, as stones tell, oh,
One Don Giovanni
Among the girls a deuce of a fellow ;
And he had a servant they called Seporello,
With his primo, buffo, canto, basso
"Heighol" sighed Don Giovanni.
He serenaded Donna Anna,
Did Don Giovanni;
He swore she was more sweet than manna,
Then into her window he stole to trepan her,
With his wheedle, tweedle, lango dillo
wicked Don Giovanni 1
The commandant, her guardian true,
Caught Don Giovanni :
Says he, "You're a blackguard 1 run, sir, do"
"I will," says Giovy, and run him through,
With his carte-o, tierce-o, thrust-o, pierce-o,
And away ran Don Giovanni.
He jumped in a boat, and was cast away
Wrecked Don Giovanni;
Says he, "I shall keep the police here at bay," [p7
Then some fishermen's ribs boned, and made their lives
With his stop-'em, pop-'em, seize-'em, squeeze-'em
What a spark was Don Giovanni 1
A wedding he met, and the bride 'gan to woo-
Fie, Don Giovanni !
"I am running away, will you run away too?"
Says he. " Yes," says she, "I don't care if I do"
With a helter-skelter, hesto, presto
What a devil was Don Giovanni '
48 ANNIE LAURIE.
To a churchyard he came oh, what brought him tnere,
Lost Don Giovanni?
The commandant's stone statue it made him stare,
Like "Washington's statue at Union Square,
With his saddle, bridle, falchion, truncheon
"Give me a call," said Don Giovanni.
To call on Giovanni the statue wasn't slow,
Bold Don Giovanni.
"Will you sup with me, Mr. Statue ?" said he. It cried, "
For you must sup with me in the regions below,
Off my brinostone, sulphur, pitch-o, smoke-o !"
"I'll be d d if I dol n cried Giovanni.
ANNIE LAURIE,
MAXWELLTON braes are bonnie,
"Where early fa's the dew,
And it's there that Annie Laurie
Gi'ed me her promise true
Gi'ed me her promise true,
"Which ne'er forgot will be,
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me down and dee.
Her brow is like the snow-drift,
Her neck is like the swan,
Her face it is the fairest
That e'er the sun shone on
That e'er the sun shone on,
And dark blue is her e'e ;
And for bonnie Annie Laurie, etc.
Like dew on the gowan lying,
Is the fa' o' her fairy feet;
And like winds in summer sighing,
Her voice is low and sweet
Her voice is low and sweet,
And she's a' the world to me:
And for bonnie Annie Laurie, etc.
RORY O'MORE.
EOBY O'MOEE,
YOUNG Rory O'Mare courted Kathaleen Bawn
He was bold as a hawk, and she soft as the dawn;
He wished in his heart pretty Kathaleen to please,
And he thought the best way to do that was to tease.
VNow, Kory, be aisy," sweet Kathaleen would cry,
fteproof on her lip, but the smile in her eye ;
44 With your tricks, I don't know in truth what I'm about
Faith, you've teased till I've put on my cloak inside out."
44 jewel," says Rory, "that same is the way
Tou've thrated my heart for this many a day;
And 'tis plazed that I am, and why not, to be sure ?
For 'tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More.
"Indeed, then," says Kathaleen, "don't think of the like,
For I half gave a promise to soothering Mike ;
The ground that I walk on he loves, I'll be bound."
"Faith," says Rory, "I'd rather love you than the ground. 11
"Now, Rory, I'll cry, if you don't let me go;
Sure I dream every night that I'm hating you so."
"Ohl" says Rory, "that same I'm delighted to hear,
For dhrames always go by conthraries, my dear;
O jewel, keep dhraming that same till you die,
And Morning will give dirty Night the black lie;
And 'tis plazed that I am, and why not, to be sure ?
Since 'tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More.
11 Arrah, Kathaleen, my darling, you've teased me enough,
And I've thrashed, for your sake, Dinuy Grimes and Jim Duff;
And I've made myself, drinking your health, quite a baste;
So I think, after that, I may talk to the praste."
Then Rory, the rogue, stole his arms round her neck
So soft and so white, without freckle or speck
And he looked in her eyes, that were beaming with light,
And he kissed her sweet lips, don't you think he was right?
"Now, Rory, leave off, sir! you'll hug me no more
That's eight times to-day that you've kissed me before."
"Then here goes another," says he, "to make sure,
For there's luck in odd numbers," says Rory O'More.
5
5>0 THE FINE OULD IRISH GINTLEMAIT.
THE PINE OULD IRISH GINTLEMAN,
I'LL sing you a fine ould song, made by a find ould Paddy's
pate,
Of a fine ouki Irish gintlernan, who had the divil a taste of
an estate,
Except a fine ould patch of pitatys that he liked exceed-
ingly to ate,
For they were beef to him, and mutton too, and barring a
red herring or a rusty rasher of bacon now and thin,
almost every other sort of mate ;
Yet this fine ould Irish gintleman was one of the rale ould
stock!
His cabin- walls were covered o'er with fine ould Irish mud
Because he couldn't afford to have any paper hangings, and
between you and me he wouldn't give a pin for them
if he could ;
And jist as proud as Julius Sayzer, or Alixander the Great,
this independent ragamuffin stood,
With a glass of fine ould Irish whiskey in his fist, which
he's decidedly of opinion will do a mighty dale of
good,
To this fine ould Irish gintleman, all of the rale ould stock!
Now this fine ould Irish gintleman wore mighty curious
clothes
Though, for comfort, I'll be bail that they'd bate any of
your fashionable beaux;
For when the sun was very hot, the gintle wind right
through his ventilation garments most beautifully
blows ;
And he's never troubled with any corns, and I'll tell you
why because he despises the wakeness of wearing
any thing as hard as leather on his toes;
Tet this fine ould Irish gintleman was one of the rale ould
stock I
Now this fine ould Irish gintleman has a mighty curious
knack
1HE FINE OULD IRISH GINTLEMA.N. 61
Of flourishing a tremendous great shillaly in his hand, and
letting it drop down with a most uncompromising
whack ;
So, of most superior shindies, you may take your oath, if
you ever happen to be called upon, for it he very
nearly never had a lack;
And it's very natural, and not at all surprising, to suppose
that the fine ould Irish mud was well a3quainted
with the back
Of thks fine ould Irish giutleman, all of the rale oild stockl
This fine ould Irish gintleman he was once out upon a
spree,
And, as many a fine ould Irish giwtleman has done, and
more betoken will do to the end of time, he got
about as dhrunk as he could be ;
His senses was completely mulvathered, and the conse-
quence was that he could neither hear nor see ;
So they thought he was stone dead and gone intirely so
the best thing they could do would be to have him
waked and buried dacintly,
Like a fine ould Irish giutleman, all of the rale ould stock I
So this fine ould Irish gintleman he was laid out upon a
bed,
"With half a dozen candles at his heels, and two or threo
dozen, more or less, about his head ;
But when the whiskey-bottle was uncorked, he couldn't
stand it any longer, so he riz right up in bed
"And when sich mighty fine stuff as that is going about,"
says he, "ye don't think I'd be sich a soft-headed
fool as to be dead ?"
Oh, this fine ould Irish gintleman it was mighty hard to
kill!
" PAT, is it a son or a daughter that your sister haa
got?"
" Faith, I don't yet know whether I am an uncle or an
aunt."
58 PBAYER-BOOKS AND CORKSCREWS.
PRAYER-BOOKS AND CORKSCREWS,
A Song with a Moral,
AIR "Deny down."
TWELVE parsons once went to a 'Squire's to dine,
Who was famous for giving good ven'son and wine;
All great friends of the cloth, with good living in view,
Quite grace-full they sat down, as parsons should do.
Chorus Derry down, etc.
A wicked young whipster, our worthy 'Squire's cousin.
Whispered, " Cousin, I boldly will lay you a dozen,
Though here we've a dozen of parsons, God wot,
Not one of the twelve has a prayer-book got!"
Derry down, etc.
"Agreed!" cried the 'Squire; " coz, we must not be loth
Such a wager to lay, for the sake of the cloth ;
The parsons, no doubt, to confute you are able,
So we'll bring, with the dinner, the bet on the table."
Derry down, etc.
Dinner came cried the 'Squire, "A new grace I will say;
Has any one here got a prayer-book, pray?"
Quite glum looked the parsons, and with one accord
Cried, " Mine's lost" u Mine's at home"" Mine's at church,
by the Lordl" Derry down, etc.
Quoth our cousin, " Dear 'Squire, I my wager have won,
But another I purpose to win ere I've done:
Though the parsons could not bring a prayer-book to view,
I the same bet will lay they have each a corkscrew I"
Derry down, etc.
44 Done done!" roared the 'Squire. "Hello, butler 1 bring
nearer
That excellent magn-Jin of ancient Madeira."
JANE O'M ALLEY. 63
Twas brought. "Lot's decant it a corkscrew, good
John."
Here each of the parsons roared out, " I've got one I"
Derry down, etc.
MORAL.
But let us not censure oir parsons for this
When a thing's in its place, it can ne'er come amiss:
Praj w-books won't serve for corkscrews; and I'm such a
sinner,
Though a sermon I like, I don't want it at dinner.
Derry down, eta
JANE O'MALLET,
I'LL tell thee a tale of a maiden's veil,
It was worn by Jane O'Malley ;
On the Highland green her form was seen,
But she now sleeps in the valley 1
Chorus She now sleeps,
She now sleeps in the valley.
One year ago, when the sun was low,
Along with Elwyn Ally,
To chat and talk, she took a walk
But she now sleeps in the valley 1
She now sleeps, etc.
They talked of love she stood above
A rocky cliff, with Ally :
Uas 1 she fell he could not save
And she now sleeps in the valley 1
She now sleeps, etc.
"Ilwy searched the ground till the spot was found,
Where struggled Jane O'Malley
Where the rock was cleft, h-er veil was left,
And she now sleeps in the valley !
She now sleeps, etc.
6*
64 LODGINGS IN PAT M J GARADIB'S.
LODGINGS IN PAT McGABADIFS.
A Rollicking Irish Song,
Sung by FRED MAY.
AIB " Barney McFinnegan."
SOME folks know the way for to thrive,
In spite of the we rld's adversity
And enjoy all the good things alive,
"When others are dying from scarcity.
Two Paddies, I very well know,
They made of misfortune a paradise ;
They came from sweet Donoghaloo,
And took lodgings in Pat McGraradie's.
Chorus Whack, fol de rol, etc.
Now they spoke to a grocer hard by,
And prevailed on the man for to tick 'em;
But the payment was " all in my eye,"
For the rascals intended for to trick him.
So they ate as they ne'er did before,
And smacked their lips wid the rarities
Saying, " Mate and drink in the store,
And lodgings in Pat McGaradie's I"
Whack, fol de rol, etc.
They brought in every night, to their pad,
The boys just come o'er to the shearing;
Be the hokey ! and that was the squad
That could give the victuals a tearing!
"Fire away, lads I there's plenty o' more-
Taste your lips wid the rarities ;
There's mate and dhrink in the store,
And lodgings in Pat McGaradie's!"
Whack, fol de rol, eto
Sure, they made knives of their fists
(For there's many a rule in the navy),
And Paddy was up to the wrists,
Dealing them handfuls of gravy !
LODGINGS ~.N PAT Al'GARADIE'S.
" Slash away, till your bellies are sore
Show them your ateing dexterities.
There's mate and dhrink in the store,
And lodgings in Pat McGaradie's !"
Whack, fol de rol, eto
The porter and ale were marked " tay,"
And the whiskey "spice" and "onions;"
And they cried, " Let us all tear away,
And give our stomachs new linings 1
Such luck Diver happened before
Fill up yer cups wid the rarities;
There's mate and dhrink in the store,
And lodgings in Pat McGaradie'sl"
Whack, fol de rol, eta
The dogs, from all quarters around,
Were never before so befriended ;
And while the good things did abound,
The beggars were duly attended.
" Now let us be kind to the poor,
And we'll get a good name for our charities;
There's mate and dhrink in the store,
And lodgings in Pat McGaradie's!"
Whack, fol de rol, etc.
But, the grocer's account being due,
He asked for his money quite civil,
And was tould by the beggarly crew
To go and seek that from the divil !
With rage how he cursed and he swore 1
They had ruined him ateing his rarities;
He turned bankrupt, and shut up his store,
Through those doings at Pat McG-aradie's.
Whack, fol de rol, etc.
If a fellow has but one eye, let him get a wife, and I
will be his other I.
THE BANKS OF CLAUDY.
THE BANKS OP CLAUDY,
IT was on a summer's morning, all in the month of May,
Down by yon flowery garden, where Betsey did stray;
I overheard a damsel in sorrow to complain,
All for her absent lover, that ploughs the raging main.
I went up to this fair maid, and put her iu surprise ;
I own she did not know me, I being in disguise.
Said I, "My charming creature, my joy and he-art's delight,
How far do you travel this dark and rainy night?"
4i The way, kind sir, to Claudy, if you please to show
Pity a maid distracted, for there I have to go I
I am in search of a faithless young man. Johnny is his name,
All on the banks of Claudy I am told he does remain.
" If Johnny was here this night, he would keep me from all
harm
He is in the field of battle, all in his uniform :
As he's in the field of battle, his foes he will destroy
Like a ruling king of honor, he fought in the wars of Truy.''
"It's six weeks and better since your true-love left the
shore ;
He's cruising the wide ocean, where foaming billows roar*
He's cruising the wild ocean, for honor and gain
I was told the ship was wrecked off the coast of Spain."
When she heard the dreadful news, she fell, in despair,
To wringing of her hands and tearing of her hair.
" Since he is gone and left me, no man will I take ;
In some lonesome valley I will wander for his sake I"
His heart was filled with joy no longer could he stand;
He flew into her arms, saying, " Betsey, I am the man
I am the faithless young man whom you thought was slain,
And, since we're met on Claudy's banks, we'll never part
again."
FLOW GENTLY, SWEET AFTON. 61
BALL BRILL AND SQUINTING WILI*
A Simple little Ditty,
Are "The Girl I left behind me."
I LOVED a grrl called Pretty Sal,
In courtship so particular
Just three feet high, she'd but one eye,
Her breath was like the auricula.
Her flaxen pate and waddling gait
Did seem so like divinity
So sweet her leer, I cried, " Oh, dear,
I'll love you for infinity!"
A sent her word, on a fine card,
With figures emblematical,
That I would come and take her home-
In that I was dogmatical !
ut she said, "No I if I said so
From now to all infinity,
i'fa&t I should find it was her mind
With me to have no affinity 1"
One day, oh dear ! as you shall hear,
By my own incongruity,
I met Sal Brill with Squinting Will,
In closest contiguity.
Oh, then she said, " Sweet Will I'll wed,
To end all ambiguity;
Gibby, good-by 1 you're * all my eye'
We'll live in continuity."
FLOW GENTLY, SWEET APTON,
gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes;
Flow gently I'll sing thee a song in thy praise ;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream;
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
58 THE LANDLADY OF FRANCE.
Thou dove, whose soft echo resounds from the hill I
Thou green-crested lapwing, with noise loud and shrill I
Ye wild whistling warblers I your music forbear I
I charge you disturb not the slumbering fair.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides I
There oft, as mild evening weeps over the lea,
Thy sweet-scented groves shade my Mary and me.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes;
Mow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
THE LANDLADY OF FRANCE,
A Bare Old Comic Song,
AIR" Yankee Doodle."
A LANDLADY of France loved an officer, 'tis said,
And this officer he dearly loved her brandy, oh.
Sighed she, " I love this officer, although his nose is red,
And his legs are what his regiment call bandy, oh."
But when the bandy officer was ordered to the coast,
How she tore her lovely locks, that looked so sandy, oh !
"Adieu, my soul I" said she; "if you write, pray pay the
post
And, before we part, let's take a drop of brandy, oh."
She filled him out a bumper just before he left the town,
And another for herself so neat and handy, oh;
S they kept their spirits up by pouring spirits down,
For love is like the colic, cured with brandy, oh.
"Take a bottle on't," says she, " for you're going into campt
In your tent, you know, my love, 'twill be the dandy, oh.
"You're right, my love," says he, u for a tent is very damp,
"And 'tis better with my tent to take some brandy, oh."
THE HAZELOELL. 69
THE HAZEL-DELL,
CBj permission of the publishers, Messrs. "W. HALL & Bo*.)
IN the Hazel-Dell my Nelly's sleeping
Nelly, loved so long !
And my lonely, lonely watch I'm keeping,
Nelly lost and gone.
Here in moonlight often we have wandered
Through the silent shade ;
Now where leafy branches drooping downward,
Little Nelly's laid.
Chorus.
All alone my watch I'm keeping,
In the Hazel-Dell;
For my darling Nelly's near me sleeping-
Nelly, dear, farewell!
ID the Hazel-Dell my Nelly's sleeping,
"Where the flowers wave ;
And the silent stars are nightly weeping
O'er poor Nelly's grave.
Hopes that once my bosom fondly cherished,
Smile no more on me ;
Every dream of joy, alas ! has perished,
Nelly, dear, with thee.
Ali alone my watch, etc.
Now I'm weary, friendless, and forsaken,
Watching here alone ;
/ Nelly, thou no more wilt fondly cheer me
| With thy loving tone.
Tet forever shall thy gentle image
In my memory dwell ;
And my tears thy lonely grave shall moisten
Nelly, dear, farewell!
All alone my watch, eta
tfG I'LL BE NO SUBMISSIVE! WIFE.
I'LL BE NO SUBMISSIVE WIPE,
I'LL be no submissive wife,
No, not I no, not I ;
I'll not be a slave for life,
No, not I no, not I:
I'll be no submissive wife,
No, not I no, not I;
I'll not be a slave for life,
No, not I no, not 1 1
Think you, on a wedding-day,
That I said, as others say,
"Love, and honor, and obey
Love, and honor, and obey"?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not 1 1
Chorus,
" Love, and honor, and obey
Love, and honor, and obey"?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not I;
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not I;
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not I
I to dulness don't incline,
No, not I no, not I ;
Go to bed at half-past nine ?
No, not I no, not I !
I to dulness don't incline,
No, not I no, not I ;
Go to bed at half-past nine?
No, not I no, not T !
Should a humdrum husband say
That at home I ought to stay,
Do you think that I'll obey
Do you think that I'll obey ?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not !
Do you think that I'll obey
Do you think that I'll obey ?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, not 1
No, no, no, etc.
NO i NO! ei
NO! NO!
The celebrated Duett in the Burletta of " No,"
&. Bang by JAMES DUNN and Mrs. W. G. JONES, at the New Boworf
Theatre.
AIR " Isabel.**
HE. Will you not bless, with one sentence, a lover
Whose bosom beats only for you?
The cause of your anger I pr'ythee discover-
Pray tell me the reason for ?
SHE. No!
HE. Say, dearest, you still love me ?
SHE. No !
HE. Oh, how can you doom me to sorrow ?
Yet once again bless me with
SHE. No !
HE. And promise to meet me to-morrow:
Promise
SHE. No!
HE. Pr'ythee
SHE. No!
HE. Don't say no!
HE. Must we, then, dearest Maria, sever ?
And can you, then, part with me ?
SHE. N<rt
HE. Then swear by yon sun to be mine only ever ;
You cannot refuse me, love !
SHE. No!
HE. You hate not your fond lover ?
SHE. No!
HE. Your hand to my faithful heart pressing,
Say, does it offend you, love ?
No!
HE. Then to marry will not be distressing
Answer 1
SHE. Nol
HE. Once more.
SHB. Nol nol no) no!
6
62 BACHELOR BARNEY O'NEIL.
BACHELOR BARLEY O'NEIL,
Song by WILLIAM W. KEEVE, comedian and comic vocalist, at the
Theatres and Music-Halls.
AIR" Oh, dear, what can the matter be ?"
OOH, botheration I Miss Judy O'Flanagan,
Give roe my heart back, and make me a man agin ;
Such a conflict of passions I niver can stand agin
Och, blur an' ouris 1 what can I ail?
My legs do so trimble, my teeth do so chatter;
My heart is as soft as a basin of batter ;
Och, graraachree ! what the divil's the matter
With poor Misther Barney O'Neil?
One evening alone iu the fields I did meet her
"Och, Judy," thinks I, " yer a swate. lovely craiture."
Her cheeks were as round as a maily potatur,
Her step airy, light, and giriteel.
Her glance was as keen as a dart or an arrow ;
In one moment it shot me right plump to the marrow
And I felt like a rattlesnake in a wheelbarrow
Faix, it bothered poor Barney O'Neil 1
Now after a twelvemonth of coortship I'd tarried,
I bothered her so to consent to be married :
She gave it, and quickly was to the priest carried,
And I there made her Misthress O'Neil.
Our neighbors and frinds were all merry and frisky,
And, afther partaking of lashings of whiskey,
They bade us adieu, wishing joy to us briskly,
And a young Misther Barney O'Neil !
By night and by day did I swear I did love her,
"While she swately promised she'd ne'er prove a rover;
But the honeymoon scarcely a week had passed over,
When a divil was Misthress O'Neil!
At clawing, ochl faith, not a woman could bate her;
And thin, as to tongue, she'd the divil's own clatter;
Och, sure, but I soon wondered what was the matter
With poor Misther Barney O'Neil.
THE GAY LITTLE POSTMAN. 63
One evening, och I surely Ould Nick wouldn't match her,
Returnin' home airly, I happened to catch her
Wid her arras round the neck of a tall sarjint-major
Och, blur an' ouns, how I did feel !
Of Judy's foul parjury I did remind her,
And bundled the major quick out of the winder ,-
Manewhile, like a furnace, or blazing-hot cinder,
Burnt poor Misther Barney O'NeiL
Next mornin' the major was kilt in a dhuel;
Judy be wept him, and called the Fates cruel-
Fell sick of a fever, and cUad of hot gruel
Death quieted Misthress O'Neil.
I miss her, because she no longer can taize me;
No longer I roam like a man that is crazy,
So the rest of me life I'll spind parfectly aisy,
"Will Bachelor Barney O'Neil.
THE GAY LITTLE POSTMAN,
An Old-Style Comic Song,
As sung by all the comic vocalists.
AIR "Mr. Walker."
BUT a short way up-town, though I mustn't tell where,
A shoemaker married a maiden so fair,
Who a month after wedlock, 'tis truth I declare,
Fell in love with a gay little postman.
Her person was thin, genteel, and tall,
Her carroty hair did in ringlets fall;
And while the cobbler worked hard at his stall,
She was watching this gay little postman.
He was just four feet six in height,
But a well-made figure to the sight;
He walked like a monument bolt upright
Mr. Walker, the gay little postman.
64 THE GAY LITTLK FOS
His toes he turned out; he had bright black eyes,
His nose was more tba'n the common size,
And he really looked, without any lies,
Too genteel and neat for a postman.
Resolved she was tx> get in his way :
So, without any trouble, she met him one day,
And says she, " Have you got e'er a letter, I say,
For me, Mister gay little postman ?"
Says he, " I don't know yoi v Says she, " Good 1*
I live the next door, the second floor back ;
My husband's a cobbler 'tis all in your track."
"It's all right," says the gay little postman,
Next morning I can't tell you what she was at
She felt her heart suddenly beat pit-a-pat,
When she heard at the street-door a double "Rat-t
And in came the gay little postman.
"Here's a letter," says he the cunning elf!
"The postage is paid so't needs no pelf."
In fact, lie had writ-ten the letter himself,
And brought it. the gay little postman!
"With love in his eyes he then at her did stare;
Says he, "I ne'er saw a lady so fair;
I always was panial lo carroty hair
~ was," says the gay little postman.
"That your husband ill treats you I can't suppose"
"Yes, he gives rne bad words, and sometimes blows;
He's an ugly man, and has got no nose"
"I have!" says the gay little postman.
His kindness was such, that it knew no end;
And to prove that he really was a true friend,
He took her spouse three pair of shoes to mend-
Did Walker, the gay little postman.
MEET ME, MISS MOLLY MA LONE. 65
They were solod and heeled without delay;
To the cobbler he had so much to say,
He got the shoes, but as for the pay
"Chalk it down," says the gay little postman.
Ever since then, they've led a cat-and-dog life ;
Their home, bed, and board have been nothing but strife;
The cobbler was "done," and so was his wife,
By Walker, the gay little postman :
For, by way of a finish to this vile act,
The lady (depend on't, 'tis a fact)
Has brought him a boy, the image exact
Of Walker, the gay little postman I
MEET ME, MISS MOLLY MALONE,
A Parody on " Meet Me by Moonlight alone,"
Bung by GKO. C. EDESON, comedian and vocalist.
MEET me, Miss Molly Malone,
In the grove at the end of the vale ;
But be sure you don't come there alone-
Bring a pot of your master's strong ale,
With a nice bit of beef and some bread ;
Some pickles, or cucumbers green,
Or a nice little dainty pig ? s head
'Tis the loveliest tit-bit e'er seen.
Then meet me, etc.
Pastry may do for the gay,
Old maids may find comfort in tea ;
But there's something about ham and beef
That agrees a deal better with me.
Remember my cupboard is bare
Then come, if my dear life you prize ;
I'd have lived the last fortnight on air,
But you sent me two nice mutton-pies I
Then meet me, eto^
6*
> DOCTOR O'TOOLB.
DOCTOR O'TOOLE,
And Ms Illigant School,
As snug by ED BERRY, comedian and vocallat
AIR" Berry down."
IN this wonderful age, when most men go to co]>^
And every man's head has a hatful of knowledge
Twill soon be a wonder to meet with a fool,
When such men are abroad as Professor O'Toole
Great Doctor O'Tode, and his illigant school
There are very few men, like O'Toole, who can teach:
If the head won't respond, he applies to the breech!
And whacking them well, till with blows they are full,
"Let's knock in the larniu' 1" says Doctor O'Toole.
Great Doctor O'Toole, etc.
One morning, the Doctor went out to his walk,
And he saw on the door his own portrait in chalk:
That morning he flogged every boy in the scbool I
"It's a part of my system," says Doctor O'Toole.
Great Doctor O'Toole, etc,
" Get on with your lessons as fast as you can,
For knowledge is sweeter than eggs and fried ham t
Don't try to deceive me, like ducks in a pool,
Or 111 blow you to blazes !" says Doctor O'Toole.
Great Doctor O'Toole, etc
"And now, my dear children, bear always in mind
That wcrtie without meaning are nothing but wind;
Accept of all favors, make that the first rule,
Or you're a parcel of asses!" says Doctor O'Toole.
Great Doctor O'Toole, etc.
"If you go to a house, and they ask you to eat,
Don't hold your head down, and refuse the good meat
But say you will drink too, or, just like the mule,
You're unworthy of lessons from Doctor O'Toole."
Great Doctor O'Toole, etc.
HIQGINS'S BALL 67
"When your father and mother have turned their backa
Don't kick up a row with the dogs and the cats ;
Nor tie the pig's tail to the table or stool,
^or you're a parcel of divils!" says Doctor O'Toole.
Great Dortor O'Toole, etc.
"But give over fightin', and think of your sins,
Or I'll break every bone in your impudent skins I
Give over your ructions, don't think me a fool,
Or I'll punish you blackguards !" says Doctor O'Toole.
Great Doctor O'Toole, etc.
"Now the lessons are over, so run away home;
Don't turn up your nose at a crust or a bone :
Come back in the morning, for that is the rule,
And you'll get more instruction from Doctor O'Toob."
Great Doctor O'Toole, etc.
HIGGOTS'S BALL,
An Irish Narrative in
As sung by FRED MAY.
AiKr "Paddy O'Carroll."
ASRAH, haven't you heard of Higgins's ball,
Where Fashion's devotees so gay mustered all?
If not, and you'll listen to what I describe,
It's the joys of a trip to this musical tribe.
There was wealthy ould citizens there, d'ye see
The boys and the girls dressed as fine as could be,
And some out-and-out buffers, a dozen in all,
We made up our minds for a trip to the ball.
Chorus*
There was Barney O'Fagan and Timothy Hagac,
Miss Molly McGuffin and Judy McCall ;
Aunts, uncles, and cousins, and neighbors by dozens,
All welting the flure at ould Higgins's ball.
68 HIGGINS'S BALL.
Now, whin ready to start, how the people a.d stare!
We had aich of us got something patent and rare;
We made up our minds we the nation would stun,
And arrived just in time as the ball had begun.
There ould Higgins we saw in his new patent boots
(Spoken.) Bad lixjk to him ! sure, his ould father, Barney
Higgins, uiver wore any thing but brogues
Quite busy a-tunin' the fiddles and flutes ;
And a group of musicians, all of the right sort,
Whose noise and whose whims fill the room full of sport
There was, etc.
Now th.e time had arrived for the ball to begin,
And the music struck up such a terrible din !
Wid ould Misthress H. at the top o' the dance,
Each merry young couple did quickly advance.
Och ! thin, what wid treadin' on aich other's toes,
And knockin' our heads against many a nose,
Kickin' aich other's ankles, we welted the flure,
While Higgius kept time wid the bar of the dure.
(Spoken, by ould Higgins.) Hurrool lively, b'yes! See
here, Patsey Molloy, if I catch you steppin' on the
girls' skirts, I declare to my conscience I'll give you a
welt across the head wid the bar of the durel
There was, etc,
Now things went on well till McGinniss the snob
From me my young woman was tryin' to rob;
Arrah, thin such a terrible fight did ensue !
And the rest joinin' in, at aich other they flew.
Peggy Murphy called Higgins "an ould drunken sot"
(Spoken.) Divil's cure to him, so he was I He'd dhrink
the Atlauthic Say dhry, if it was built of whiskey
Whin away at her head flew the big pratee-pot 1
My valor, for Peggy, I very soon shows,
Jist by breakin' the bridge of ould Higgins's nose.
(Spoken.) Sarves him right, the dirty b laggard!
There was, et*
A PARODY. 69
Now they all \ett the place in such a terrible mess,
AH covered \*itb portions of oonnets and dress,
Until, quite e^hai'sted, they all foil asleep,
And there nfr.i. morain' they all lay in a heapl
(SpoKcn.) The dhrunken bastes, to sleep in their clothe^
Hk> pies!
Now if ever I venture to go there again,
There's one thing I'll tell, and that's mighty plain
I'll not forget soon, faix 1 if ever at all,
The illigant fight we'd at Higgins's ball.
There was, etc.
PABODY ON "MOTHER, I'VE COME HOME TO DIE,"
An Original Conglomeration of Titlesi
By E. T. JOHNSTON.
DEAR mother, I remember well
"That nice young gal from New Jersey ;"
She said, u Oh kiss, but never tell !"
"How are you, black-horse cavalry?"
11 Then let me like a soldier fall,"
"When the swallows homeward fly;"
" Come, landlord, fill the flowing bowl"
" Dear mother, I've come home to die."
Chorus.
" Call me pet names," " Annie Lisle,"
" A bully boy with a glass eye ;"
"Oh, let her rip! she's all 0. K."
" Dear mother, I've come home to die. w
44 Oh, hark ! I hear an angel sing"
"I'll be free and easy still!"
** 3/ love he is a sailor-boy,"
With " The sword of Bunker HilL"
A PARODY.
Oh, "Happy, happy be thy dreams,"
When you're "Comin' thro' the rye;*'
"I wish I was in Dixie's Land"
"Dear mother, I've come home to die."
Call me, etc.
'* Dear Tom," " 'Twas my grandma's advice,* 1
'' Don't ever fly your kite too high ;"
"I'm over young to marry yet,"
"Says the spider to the fly."
"We met by chance," at " Donnybrook Fair,"
Where "No Irish need apply:"
* I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls"
"Dear mother, I've come home to die."
Call me, etc.
"Yes, dearest, I will love the more,"
"I'll hang my harp on a willow-tree;"
"Our Billy was a butcher-boy,"
And " Sally is the gal for me."
M A dainty plant's the Ivy green,"
"Then, comrades, raise your banners high; n
"I wish I had a fat contract"
" Dear mother, I've come home to die."
Call ine, etc.
SNIGSBY keeps a diary since it has beccmo fo
Being in a poetical mood the other evening, he made inn
following entry, which may serve as a pattern to tilo af-
flicted:
" A nuther day is past and gon
Bill Jinking broke my demmy gon
I'm turuiu' in at half-past six
The moon's a dumplin', fiddle stix."
WHAT is the apparent difference between the Prince of
Wa*les, an orphan, a bald head, and a gorilla? The Prince
of Wales is the heir apparent, an orphan has ne'er a parent,
a bald head has no hair apparent, and a gorilla has a hairy
parent.
TOASTS FOR ALL TIMES. *U
SOOIAL SENTIMENTS]
OR,
Toasts for all Times,
A COBWEB pair of breeches, a porcupine saddle, a hard-
trotting horse, and a long journey, to the enemies of free-
dom and progress !
Firmness in the senate, valor in the field, and fortitude
on the waves.
Cork to the heels, cash to the pockets, courage to the
Hearts, and concord to the heads, of the soldiers of freedom.
Improvement to our arts, aud invention to our artists.
May the Tree of Liberty nourish around the globe, and
every human being partake of its fruits 1
May the skins of our foes be turned into parchment, and
our rights written thereon.
The three great Generals in power General Peace, Gen-
eral Plenty, and General Satisfaction.
89^9 SiUOBBS-g puijq o$ 9flioq eqi JQnns aojj
'eeui qjBd sn iw MOUI 'fciaui 9q 01 warn 9M
5 |MOq qoB9 jo pBaq eqi IB epiS9jd aouinn-poof) puy
qoB9 u8Ai[us edeaS uou sq:j jo eomf 9q^ A*Bpj
JO IUBM 9qi MOUX 'A^nunoo sio B^BJIOQ oqM 9q
uosud B jo epie^no 9q^ piiB '9snoq B jo eptsai
Otr^ 01 'pgjnoes ssead eq^ jo A^ioqij 9qi pue 'peuiB^uiBm A*jnf
A*q [BU-j 9q^ 'p8Aj8S9jd 9q U01108J9 jo mop88jj eqi A*B]^
PUB IBIOOS SUIUSAS eq^ pusds oj^
^uBSB8id B PUB 'jgn^s-pooS jo doap y
UOSB8-JI JO
p9J98!js 9q
J Jl^ 9jqBJ9U9A
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J8A8JOJ 'UJiq A*OJ5S8p O!J 8^888 ODj^
ano '
TOASTS FOR ALL TIMES.
May the devil never pay visits abroad, LX>r receive com-
pany at home 1
May Fortune fill the cup when Charity guides the hand
Great men honest, and honest men great.
A pot and a pipe, and a good-natured wife,
Just to make me feel happy the rest of my life.
Short shoes and long corns to our country's enemies.
Champagne to our real friends, and real pain to our sham
friends.
Friendship in marble, animosity in dust
Envy in an air-pump, without a passage to breathe
through.
May every honest man turn out a rogue.
Lenity to the faults of otners, and sense to diseover our
own.
Health of body, peace of mind, a clean shirt, and a dollar
in our pocket.
Here's to Columbia, the hope of the world I
Long may her navy, triumphantly sailing,
And army still conquer with courage unfailing,
Their thunder forever 'gainst tyrants be hurled 1
Here's to the man that raised the goose that gave the
quill that made the pen that signed the Declaration of In-
dependence !
May our laws guard our liberty, and our liberty our laws.
Let the hoary miser toil.
We such sordid views despise ;
Give us wine and Beauty's smile,
There each glowing rapture lies.
Addition to our trade, multiplication to our manufactures
aabtraction to our taxes, and reduction to useless offices.
All Fortune's daughters, except thw c^uetl Mis-Fortune.
THB iva.
GOOD BOOKS.
Sent Postjige-Paid on Receipt of Price.
Jack Johnson's Jokes for the Jolly $ ,25
Snipsnap's and Snickerings of Simon Snodgrass 25
Chips from Uncle Sam's Jack-Knife ,25
Yale College Scrapes 25
The Comical Adventures of David Dufficks 25
The Comic English Grammar 25
Laughing Gas ; or, W it, Wisdom and Wind 25
The Jolly Joker; or, a Laugh all 'Round 25
Uncle Josh's Trunk Full of Fun 15
Courteney's Dictionary of Abbreviations 10
Five Hundred French Phrases 10
The Chairman and Speaker's Guide 10
How to Talk and Debate 10
Mind your Stops; or, Punctuation Made Easy 10
Hard Words Made Easy 10
Chesterfield's Art of Letter-Writing- 10
Etiquette and the Usages of Society 10
How to Behave; or, The Spirit of Etiquette 10
Very, Very Funny 10
Blunders in Behavior Corrected 10
Courtship Made Easy 10
How to Woo and How to Win 10
The Comical Doings of a Funny Man 10
Ned Turner's Circus Joke Book 10
Ned Turner's Clown Joke Book 10
Ned Turner's Black Jokes 10
Charley White's Joke Book 10
Black Wit and Darkey Conversations 10
Charley Fox' s Ethiopian Comicalities 10
Broad Grins of the Laughing Philosopher 10
Christy's Bones and Banjo Songster 10
Christy's New Songster and Black Jokes 10
The Irish Boy and Yankee Girl Songster ,10
The Love and Sentimental Songster 10
The Lannigan's Ball Songster .10
Tom Moore's Irish Melodies 10
Send for Complete Descriptive Catalogue, mailed free.
DICK & FITZGERALD, Publishers,
18 ANN STREET, NEW YORK.
Popular Song Books, sent Free of Postage. Priee Ten Cents <
VI
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* ** Will be mailed, postage paid, on receif
of TEN CENTS, by the Publishers.
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Photomount
Pamphlet
Binder
Gaylord Bros., Inc.
Makers
Stockton, Calif.
CAT. IAN. 21. 1908
925314
THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
