HONORING MY FATHER AND MY MOTHER
     
                          A Command Performance
     
                                 VOL. II
     
                       SONGS AS REMEMBERED AND SUNG
     
                      BY AGNES AMELIA RANSOM BURTON
     
                                     
                                                     
                     (c) 1978  Au Courant Publishers (Lynn Ransom Burton)
                     (c) 2006  Lynn Ransom Burton
                           All rights reserved.
                                
      
     
     
     
     
                                S O N G S
     
                          AS REMEMBERED AND SUNG
     
                                    By
     
                        AGNES AMELIA RANSOM BURTON
                              (1886 - 1969)
     
     
     
                            Compiled & Edited
     
                                    by
     
                            Lynn Ransom Burton
     
     
                            University of Utah
     
                                  Summer
     
                                   1957
     
     
     
                                 FOREWORD
     
          These are the songs sung by Agnes Amelia Ransom Burton.
          They play an important part in her life and in
          the lives of her friends and neighbors, her eleven
          children, thirty-two grandchildren, and twelve
          great-grandchildren, not to mention the lives of
          numerous neighbor children throughout southern Idaho and
          northern Utah.
          Agnes Amelia Ransom Burton was born October 15, 1886, in
          Trenton, Utah, daughter of James Rowley Ransom and Agnes
          Elizabeth Austin Ransom. After her marriage to Caleb
          Johnson Burton, they lived in various towns in southern
          Idaho (Downey, Cleveland, Dayton, Preston) until 1932,
          when they moved to Utah.
          In Utah they lived in Thatcher and Brigham City, and
          after her husband's death she lived in Brigham City,
          Logan, and presently in Salt Lake City.
          It has been a pleasure to collect these songs. My mother
          was very cooperative and patient with me as I
          attempted to draw from her memory these remarkable lyrics
          --some complete, others quite fragmentary. Church hymns
          and Primary songs are, with few exceptions, not included
          here. I am very grateful for her help and, of course,
          this collection, hers in the first place, is
          dedicated to her.
     
                                        Lynn Ransom Burton
                                        144 Williams Ave.
                                        Salt Lake City, Utah
                                        July 19, 1957
     
          Postscript
          Agnes Amelia Ransom Burton died April 4, 1969, in Brigham
          City, Utah. Her posterity at that time numbered 11
          children, 40 grandchildren, and 53 great-grandchildren.

          No effort has been made to compare her versions of the
          songs collected here with published versions, traditional
          versions, or regional versions. That was not the purpose
          of this collection. Nor has there been any effort to
          remove words or expressions which now are considered
          unsavory and insensitive.

          All rights to the use of this material as a collection of
          songs remembered and sung by Agnes Amelia Ransom Burton
          are retained by the compiler. Any use of this collection
          in whole or in part by a person or persons other than
          the compiler is prohibited without the written
          permission of Mr. Lynn Ransom Burton,
          130 North 100 West, Brigham City, UT 84302. (1989).
     
 
     
                                    1
     
                           Where are you going, my pretty maid?
                         Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
                           I'm going away, kind sir, she said,
                         Away down to the Rio Grandie.
     
          Chorus:             Hi away, away, away, away, away, away
                           I'm going away, kind sir, she said,
                              Away down to the Rio Grandie.
     
                           May I go with you, my pretty maid?
                         Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
                            You may, if you want, kind sir, she said,
                           Away down to the Rio Grandie.
     
                           Oh, where is your fortune, my pretty maid?
                         Hi O, Hi O, Hi O.
                           My face is my fortune, kind sir, she said,
                         Away down to the Rio Grandie.
     
          Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Ransom, before 1900.
     
   
     
     
     
                                      2
     
                          Three black crows sat upon a tree
                          Three black crows sat upon a tree
                          Three black crows sat upon a tree
                          They were as black as crows could be.
     
                          One of the crows said to his mate
                          One of the crows said to his mate
                          One of the crows said to his mate
                         "What shall we do for some to eat?"
     
                         "There is a horse on yonder hill
                          There is a horse on yonder hill
                          There is a horse on yonder hill
                          And if he's not gone he's there still."     
                         
                         "We'll go and perch on his breast bone
                          We'll go and perch on his breast bone
                          We'll go and perch on his breast bone
                          And pick his eyes out one by one."
     
     
          Learned as a child, from her brother, William Ransom.
     
     
     
     
     
     
                                             3
     
                 There was a frog lived in a well, ah ha,
                 There was a frog lived in a well,
                 And in a mill a mouse did dwell, ah ha.
     
                 Oh, gentleman frog he took a ride, ah ha,
                 Oh, gentleman frog he took a ride,
                 A sword and a pistol by his side, ah ha.
     
                 Misses mouse came tumbling down, ah ha,
                 Misses mouse came tumbling down,
                 Dressed in a silk and satin gown, ah ha.
     
                 Old Mister Rat came riding home, ah ha,
                 Old Mister Rat came riding home,
                 Said: Who's been here while I've been gone? ah ha.
     
                 Oh, Mister Mouse, Oh he's been here, ah ha,
                 Oh, Mister Mouse, Oh he's been here,
                 And he wants me for to be his dear! ah ha.
     
                 Old Mister Rat laughed and shook his fat sides, ah ha,
                 Old Mister Rat laughed and shook his fat sides,
                 To think that a mouse would be a frog's bride, ah ha.
     
                 Oh, what is the wedding super going to be? ah ha,
                 Oh, what is the wedding supper going to be?
                 Cabbage head and ginger tea! ah ha.     
     
                 Oh, now I'll lay my book on the shelf, ah ha,
                 Oh, now I'll lay my book on the shelf,
                 If you want any more you may sing it yourself, ah ha.
     
                 Learned from her parents, about 1890.   
     
   
     
                                    4
     
                    "I am going far away, Nora, darling,
                     And leaving such an angel far behind,
                     It would break my heart in two
                     Which I fondly gave to you
                     And no other one's so loving, kind, and true.
     
                    "Come go with me, Nora, darling,
                     Bid your friends in dear old Ireland, good-bye,
                     And it's happy you will be
                     In the dear land of the free
                     Living happy with your Barney McCoy."
     
                    "I'd go with you, Barney, darling,
                     If my Mother and the rest of them were there,
                     It would break my poor Mother's heart
                     If from her I had to part
                     And go roaming with my Barney McCoy.
     
                    "So, farewell to you, Barney, my darling,
                     Bid your friends in dear old Ireland, good-bye,
                     And I know you will be blessed
                     In the dear land of the West
                     Living happy, my dear Barney McCoy."
     
                    Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
   
     
     
                                     5
     
                         I LOVE LITTLE WILLIE
     
                    I love little Willie, I do, Ma Ma
                    I love little Willie, I do, Ma Ma
                    I love little Willie, but don't you tell Pa
                    For he wouldn't like it, would he, Ma Ma?
     
                    He gave me a ring, ah ha, Ma Ma
                    He gave me a ring, ah ha, Ma Ma
                    He gave me a ring, but don't you tell Pa
                    For he wouldn't like it, would he Ma Ma?
     
                    We're going to be married, ah ha, Ma Ma
                    We're going to be married, ah ha, Ma Ma
                    We're going to be married, but don't you tell Pa
                         For he wouldn't like it, would he, Ma Ma?
     
                    And now we are married, ah ha, Ma Ma
                    And now we are married, ah ha, Ma Ma
                    And now we are married, and you can tell Pa
                    For he can't help it, can he, Ma Ma?
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                          6
          
                          I'll give to you a paper of pins
                          For that's the way that love begins
                          If you will marry
                          If you will marry
                          If you will marry me.
     
                          I'll not accept your paper of pins
                          That's not the way that love begins
                          And I won't marry
                          And I won't marry
                          And I won't marry you.
     
                          I'll give to you the key to my heart
                          That we may love and never part
                          If you will marry
                          If you will marry
                          If you will marry me.
     
                          I'll not accept the key to your heart
                          That we may love and never part
                          And I won't marry
                          And I won't marry
                          And I won't marry you.
     
                          I'll give to you the key to my chest
                          That you may have money at your request
                          If you will marry
                          If you will marry
                          If you will marry me.
     
                          I will accept the key to your chest
                          That I may have money at my request
                          And I will marry
                          And I will marry
                          And I will marry you.
     
               Learned from her parents, before 1900.


     
                                            7
                                                                                  
                                 JOHNNY BULL
     
                    Johnny Bull, he was an Englishman
                    He went on tramp one day,
                    With three-pence in his pocket
                    To cheer him on his way.
     
                    He traveled on for miles and miles
                    But no one could he see,
                    'Til he fell in line with an Irishman
                    Whose name was Patty Magee.
     
               (There are some lines missing here. The two meet with a Scottish man, whom they call Scott. They took the three-pence and bought a loaf of bread, then lay down to sleep.  They agreed that the one that had the biggest dream should eat the bread. They were all very, very hungry.)
     
   So Pat he drempt by the morning, ten thousand men had been
   For ten long years a diggin' the biggest turnip that ever was seen.
   At last they got the turnip up by digging night and day,
   And it took five million horses to wheel this turnip away.
     
   And Scottie drempt by the morning, that ten thousand men had been
   For ten long years a makin' the biggest boiler that was ever seen.
     
               Q.   Oh, what was your boiler made of, Scott? 
                    Was it made of copper or tin?
     
               A.   Oh, it was made of copper,
                    For to boil your turnip in!
     
               So, Johnny drempt by the mornin',
                              'Tis true, upon my oath,
                              I drempt that I was hungry,
                              And I got up and ate the loaf!
     
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, Cleveland, Idaho, about 1895. Parts of the song were spoken and not sung. The lines marked "Q" (question) were not sung, but were spoken.
               The "A" (answer) however, was sung.
     
                                            8
     
                                      OLD DAN TUCKER
     
                         Old Dan Tucker was a fine old man
                         He washed his face in a frying pan
                         He combed his hair with a wagon wheel
                         And died with a toothache in his heel.
     
                         Look out a' the way for Old Dan Tucker
                         He's too late to come to supper.
     
                         Old Dan Tucker was a fine old man
                         He washed his face in a frying pan
                         He combed his hair with a wagon wheel
                         And died with a toothache in his heel.
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, about 1896.
     
     
     
                                          9
     
                      My Pa goes out to waltz saloons
                      But could not get a drink,
                      He brought a great big bottle home
                      It's whiskey, too, me think.
     
                      He stays blind drunk and smashes up things
                      And I think I heard him say,
                      That he gets chock full every afternoon
                      That Ma goes out to pray.
     
                              Chorus:
                 Then the nurse, she pinched the baby just to tease it
                 There is something wrong, and everybody sees it,
                 And I wonder if my Ma will ever please it
                 And not go round the beer saloons to pray.
     
                      They leave me home to mind the kids
                      And, oh, they act so queer,
                      Little Johnny has just fell over the stove
                      And burned off half his ear.
     
	                  Little Joe has just fell out of bed
                      And, oh, the devil's to pay
                      For he sprained his toes and broke his nose,
                      While Ma's gone out to pray.
     
                           Chorus:
                 Then it's my advice to all the charming ladies
                 To stay at home and mind the little babies
                 And throw vile allusions to the shadies
                 And not go round the beer saloons to pray.
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    10
     
                               ALONE, ALONE
     
                    One day I went down to the river to swim
                    Alone, alone,
                    I found a cool spot, undressed, and went in
                    Alone, alone,
                    Then I came out and decided to doze
                    When I awoke, oh, what do you suppose?
                    A homely old maid sat there on my clothes
                    Alone, alone.
     
                    I thought I would get me an oyster stew
                    Alone, alone,
                    Then I sat down and began to chew
                    Alone, alone,
                    Oh, one little oyster he spied me
                    And his little eyes they danced with glee
                    He said: Don't tell the cook that you saw me!
                    Alone, alone.
     
                    Your mother-in-law comes to visit you
                    Alone, alone,
                    She brings all her kids and they stick like glue
                    Alone, alone,
                    Then is the time when you fly mad
                    For she takes the very best bed that you had
                    And leaves you to sleep in the barn on a slab
                    Alone, alone.
     
               Learned about 1920.
     
     
                                    11
     
             I had just returned from the salt, salt sea
             My own true love for to see
             But she was married to a house carpenter
             And a nice young man was he.
     
             If you'll forsake your house carpenter
             And go along with me
             I will take you to a place where the grass grows green
             On the banks of sweet Willie.
     
             If I forsake my house carpenter
             And go along with you
             What have you there to maintain me upon
             And to keep me from slavery?
			 
             I've seven ships just off shore
             And seven more at sea,
             I've a hundred and ten brave, jolly, jolly, men
             And they all shall wait on thee.
     
             She called her babe unto her knee
             And gave him kisses three,
             Saying stay at home my pretty little babe
             Keep your father's company.
     
             We had not sailed more two weeks,
             I'm sure it was not three,
             'Til this fair damsel began for to weep
             And wept most bitterly.
     
             Oh, do you weep for gold? I asked,
             Or do you weep for fear?
             Or do you weep for your house carpenter
             That you left when you sailed here?
     
             We had not sailed more than three weeks
             I'm sure it was not four,
             'Til the underdeck of the ship sprang a leak
             And it sank to rise no more.
     
             Oh, cursed be a sailor's lot
             And cursed be his life,
             For the robbing of a house carpenter
             And the taking of his wife.
     
     
          The last two lines of each stanza are repeated.
          Learned as a child from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
     
                                    12
     
                 Our bark was far, far from the land
                 When the fairest of our gallant band
                 Grew deathly sick, and he pined away
                 Like the twilight of the autumn day.
     
                 We had watched him through long hours of pain
                 Our fears were great, our hopes in vain
                 Death stroke he gave, no coward's alarm
                 But he smiled and died on his messmate's arm.
     
                 We had no costly wrapping sheet
                 We placed two round shots at his feet
                 He lies in his hammock, as neat and as sound
                 As a king in his long shroud velvet gown.
				 
                 We bravely decked his funeral vest
                 With a starry flag upon his breast
                 We gave him this as a badge of the brave
                 And then he was fit for a sailor's grave.
     
                 Our voices broke, our hearts burned weak
                 And a tear was seen on the brownest cheek
                 A quiver played on the lips of pride
                 As we lowered him down by the ship's dark side.
          
                 Then a splash, and a plunge, and our task was o'er
                 And the billows rolled as they had rolled before
                 And many a wild prey hallowed the wave
                 As he sank beneath to a sailor's grave.
     
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    13
     
        The weather was bright and fair in May
        The harbor white with sails,
        And stately ships were sailing out to sea
        When a fair-haired boy stood on the shore
        And looked down with wistful eyes
        For a sailor in his heart he longed to be.
     
        An old tar who was passing by
        Saw the lad and read his thoughts
        And so had stopped to greet him on his way.
        "How can I go to sea, sir?" at last the youngster asked,
        And this is what the old tar had to say:
     
                    Chorus:
        "You had better stay at home, my lad,
        Until you're older grown,
        You say you like the sea, lad,
        But you're not old enough to know.
        The sea is not always bright and blue,
        The weather's not always fair.
        You had better stay at home, my lad
        You're happiest days are there.
     
        "'Twas on a day like this, my lad,
        I ran away to sea.
        Not knowing what the future had in store,
        Like you, my lad, the present was the only time for me,
        And now my cup of sorrow's brimming o'er.
        Perhaps you have a mother, lad, as I had long ago,
        And perhaps like mine, from you she would not part.
        Your maiden voyage is over now,
        Too late, too late, you know,
        Your mother's dead, and you have broke her heart."
     
               Learned from her brother-in-law, George Burton, about 1905.
      
                                   
     
                                       14
          
                               THE BATTLESHIP MAINE
     
                Many homes are wrecked with sadness and with sorrow
                Many hearts are torn with sadness and with pain
                In a nation that is draped in deepest mourning
                For our heroes of the battleship, the Maine.
     
                Some are sleeping 'neath the waters of the harbor
                Some repose beneath a mound of Spanish clay
                Where two hundred noble-hearted soldiers perished
                On the banks of Havana far away.
     
                Some were dreaming of their mothers, wives, or                   
                             sweethearts
                Some were thinking of their loved ones left at home
                And perhaps someone who left the old folks grieving
                And was writing them from far across the foam.
     
                When suddenly there came a great explosion
                Like a stone, a wreck, she sank down in the bay
                And two hundred noble-hearted soldiers perished
                On the banks of Havana, far away.
     
     
               Learned before 1900.
     
                    
     
                                     15
     
                              Once I had a sweetheart
                                   Noble brave and true,
                              Fearless as the sunrise
                                   Gentle as the dew.
     
                              We had loved and waited
                                   And had named the day,
                              We had pledged to wed each other
                                   In the month of May.
     
                         Chorus:   Out on the ocean he sailed
                                   Under the red white and blue,
                              True to his country and flag
                                   True to his captain and crew.
     
                              Anchored off Havana
                                   On a Caribbean shore,
                              Fearless of no danger
                                   Dreaming love once more.
     
                              Peaceful he did slumber
                                   On his hammock bed,
                              While the stars in glorious beauty
                                   Benediction said.
     
                              ...
                                   ...
                              Down went my sweetheart to death
                                   Down went the battleship Maine.
     
     
               Two lines not remembered. Learned before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    16
     
                         A SWEETHEART'S FAREWELL
     
         As the sun was lowly setting 'neath the shadows of the pines,
         And the breeze was softly blowing o'er the sea,
         A sudden fitful darkness fell across the summer sky
         And a shadow fell between my love and me.
		 
         Some hasty words were spoken, then almost unaware
         Hasty answers to unthinking anger led,
         And all our bitter longing, and our wishing and our prayers
         Ne'er could make those false and cruel words unsaid.
     
                    Chorus:
         Come back to me, sweetheart, and love me as before,
         Come back, back to me, sweetheart, and leave me never more.
         Through life's dark pathway, the sun no longer shines,
         Come, love, and meet me in the shadow of the pines.
     
         You took the ring I gave you, nor cast a glance at me
         As you held the jeweled trinket in your hand,
         And then you turned and tossed it in the waters of the sea
         While the waves were splashing wildly on the sand.
     
        You went your way, unheeding, then the tears I could not hide
        You went your way and not a word was said,
        And my stubborn heart was breaking underneath its mask of pride                          
        While the pine trees sobbed in pity overhead.
     
                    Sequel to A SWEETHEART'S FAREWELL
     
        Chorus:
        You asked me but to meet you in the shadows of the pines,
        Forgive the past and love you as before
                    ...
                    ...
     
        No, I cannot come back to you sweetheart,
        I cannot come back to the one that I love.
        Here on earth we will ever be parted
        I will meet you in heaven above.
		
     
                    Only parts of the sequel were remembered. Learned about 1900.
     
     
                                           17
     
                              My little Joey has gone to sea,
                              When he comes home, he'll marry me.
     
                              With red-top boots and yellow shoes,
                              That is the way my Joey goes.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
                                    18
     
                          THE PLAINS OF WATERLOO
     
                         Come all ye brave and hearty chaps
                         And listen unto me
                         While I relate how I have fought
                         Through the war of Germany.
     
                         I have fought through Spain and Portugal
                         Through Florence and Florida, too,
                         But little I thought I'd be released
                         From the plains of Waterloo.
     
                         It was on the eighth of May, my boys,
                         You all shall plainly hear
                         The fifes and drums, they played so sweet
                         We knew the French were near.
     
                         But Bonnie, with his gallant troops,
                         Their numbers were not few,
                         We went and pitched our tents 
                         On the plains of Waterloo.
     
                         It's many a river I have crossed
                         Through water, slush, and mud,
                         And many a battle I have fought
                         To my ankles deep in blood.
     
                         But providence being so kind to me
                         With all that I'd gone through,
                         It was little I thought I'd be released
                         From the plains of Waterloo.
     
          Learned from her brother-in-law, George Burton, about 1898, Cleveland, Idaho.
     
     
     
                                    19
     
     
                         'Twas just before the last great charge
                         That two soldiers drew their reins
                         With a parting word and a clasp of hands
                         For they never might meet again.
     
                         One had blue eyes and curly hair,
                         Nineteen, but a month ago,
                         With red on his cheek and a dimpled chin,
                         He was only a boy, you know.
          
                         The other was tall, dark, stern, and proud
                         Whose fate in this world looked dim,
                         He had trusted only the more to those
                         That were all the world to him.
          
                         Together they'd rode through many a raid
                         And rode for many a mile,
                         But not 'till now had they met their foe
                         With a calm and hopeful smile.
     
                         Oh, write to her Charley, when I am gone,
                         Send back that fair, fond face.
                         Oh, tell her tenderly how I died,
                         And where is my resting place.
     
                       Oh, tell her my soul will wait for her
                       In a borderland between
                       Heaven and earth, and will wait 'till she comes,
                       That will not be long, I know.
     
                         I'll do your bidding, comrade mine,
                         If I ride back again,
                         But if you write back and I am left
                         You'll do the same for me.
                         I've a mother that waits her boy at home
                         Oh, write to her, tenderly.
     
                         One after the other of those she has loved
                         She has buried a husband, and son,
                         And I was the last that her country called
                         She kissed me and sent me on.
     
                         She prays at home like a waiting saint
                         Her fond face white with woe,
                         Her heart will be broken when I am gone
                         That will not be long, I know.
     
          
                              (concluded on the next page.)
     
     
     
               (19, continued from preceding page)
     
                         Just then the orders came to march
                         And an innocent hand touched hand,
                         Yea, answered yea, and on they rushed
                         To the brave devoted band.
     
                         On, on they came, to the crest of the hill
                         Where the rifles with shots and shafts
                         Poured drifts of death into their soul,
                         And pierced them as they fell.
     
                         The dark stern man that rode at his side
                         Lay dead beside him, there,
                     So there's no one to write to the blue-eyed girl
                     Those words her lover said,
                     And a mother that awaits her boy at home
                     Will only know he's dead.
     
                     She never will know that last fond thought
                     That thought to soothe her pain,
                     Until she crosses the river of death
                     And stands by her boy again.
     
     
          A Civil War song. Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    20
     
                             THE VACANT CHAIR
     
                         We shall meet, but we shall miss him,
                         There will be one vacant chair.
                         We shall linger to caress him,
                         As we breathe our evening prayer.
     
                         At the fireside, sad and lonely
                         Oft-times will our bosoms swell,
                         In remembrance of the story
                         How our noble Willie fell.
     
                         How he strove to win the battle
                         Through the thickest of the fight,
                         And upheld our country's honors
                         As he fought with mind and might.
     
                         Chorus:
                         We shall meet, but we shall miss him,
                         There will be one vacant chair.
                         We shall linger to caress him,
                         As we breathe our evening prayer.
     
               A well-known song of the early 1900's.
                                             
     
     
     
                                    21
     
                           SOLDIER'S SWEETHEART
          
                         She was a soldier's sweetheart,
                              Pure as the morning dew,
                         Home from the war to wed her
                              Hastened her lover true.
          
                         Back to the field of conflict,
                              Duty bids him go,
                         Kissing his bride, he whispers:
                             "Soldiers must fight, you know."
     
                         Chorus:
                           "'Tis only a sad sweet memory,
                              Darling, of bygone years,
                         Only a dream of you, dear,
                              Kissing away my tears."
     
                           "A soldier's wife must not weep," you say,
                              But how can my heart be light?
                         'Tis only a sad sweet memory,
                              Darling of you, tonight."
     
                         There came a tender message
                              Saying his love was true,
                         Borne by a wounded comrade,
                              These were his words to you:
     
                                  "For my dear Flag and Freedom,
                              Love, I gave my life,
                         Shed not a tear, remember,
                              You are a soldier's wife."
     
               "Popular" just after World War I.
          
                              
                                    22
     
                             "Oh Mother dear, a little tear
                              Is gleaming in your eye,
                              Your lips are all a tremble
                              As I hear you say, 'Good-bye'
     
                             "The stars and stripes are calling now
                              On every mother's boy,
                              From Maine to dear old Dixie,
                              They shoulder arms with joy."
     
                              Chorus:
                             "So-long, my dear old lady,
                              Don't you cry,
                              Come kiss your grown-up baby boy
                              Good-bye."
     
                          "Somewhere in France I'll be dreaming of you,
                          You, and your dear eyes of blue,
                          Come let me see you smile before we part,
                      I'll throw a kiss to cheer your dear old heart."            
                                                                         
     
                              Chorus:
                             "Dry that tear in your eye,
                              Don't you sigh, don't you cry,
                              So-long, Mother, kiss your boy 
                              Good-bye."
     
                             "Oh Mother dear, each volunteer
                              Must say good-bye today,
                              Some leave a love they will forget,
                              When they are far away.
     
                             "But I leave one I'll never forget,
                              And that is why I'm glad,
                              For you're the only sweetheart
                              That I have ever had."
     
                              Chorus:
                             "So-long, my dear old lady,
                              Don't you cry,
                              Come kiss your grown-up baby boy
                              Good-bye."
     
               Popular, World War I.
     
     
     
                                    23
     
                         The snow is fastly falling
                              And the night is coming on,
                         And if you don't be friendly
                              I shall perish before the morn.
          
                         And that would grieve your mournful heart,
                              Your piece of mind destroy,
                         To see the next morn lying dead at your door
                              A poor little soldier's boy.
     
                         My mother died when I was young
                              And my father, he went to the wars,
                         He has fought through many a battle stormy
                              And is covered with wounds and scars.
     
                         The lady she opened the window so high
                              And she opened unto him the door,
                         Saying, "Come thou in, my unfortunate child,
                              You never shall wander more.
     
                              "My own dear son in battle was slain,
                              My only pride and joy,
                       And as long as I do live, a shelter I shall give
                              To a poor little soldier's boy.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
                    
                         
                                       24
     
      ]
	  
	  While shots and shells were screaming upon the battlefield,                     Our boys in blue were fighting, their noble flag to shield.
                    When a cry came from their Captain,
                    Saying, "Boys, our flag is down!
                    Who'll volunteer to save it from disgrace?"
     
      "I will!" a young boy shouted, "I'll bring it back or die!"
                    Then he marched right in the thickest of the fray.
                    Saved the flag, but gave his young life 
                    All for his country's sake.
                    They brought him back, and heard him softly say:
     
                    Chorus:
                         "Just break the news to Mother,
                    And tell her how I love her.
                    Just tell her not to wait for me
                    For I'm not coming home.
                    Just say there is no other
                    Can take the place of Mother
                    And kiss her dear sweet lips for me,
                    And break the news to her."
     
                    From a-far, a noted general,
                    Who witnessed this brave deed:
                         "Who saved our flag? Speak up, boys!
                    'Twas noble, brave, indeed!"
                              "There he lies, sir," said the Captain,
                              "He is sinking very fast."
                          Then he slowly turned away to hide a tear.
                              "'Tis my son, my brave young hero,
                          I thought you safe at home."
                               "Forgive me, Father, for I ran away."
     
               Learned from her Aunt, Violet Austin, in Cleveland, Idaho, before 1900.


                                    25
     
                        JUST AS THE SUN WENT DOWN
          
                         Out in the din of the battle's roar
                         Just at the close of day
                         Wounded and bleeding upon the field
                         Two dying soldiers lay.
     
                         One held a ringlet of thin grey hair
                         One held a lock of brown
                         Bidding each other a last farewell
                         Just as the sun went down.
     
                         One thought of Mother at home alone
                         Feeble, old, and grey
                         One of a sweetheart he'd left in town
                         Happy, young, and gay.
     
                         One kissed the ringlet of thin grey hair
                         One kissed the lock of brown
                         Bidding farewell to the Stars and Stripes
                         Just as the sun went down.
     
                         One knew the joy of a Mother's love
                         One of a sweetheart, fair
                         Thinking of how they lay side by side
                         Breathing a farewell prayer.
     
                         One for his Mother, so old and grey
                         One for his love in town
                       As they closed their eyes to the earth and skies
                         Just as the sun went down.
     
     
               Learned at Cleveland, Idaho, about 1918.
     
    
     
                                    26
     
                             TWO LITTLE BOYS
     
                         Two little boys had two little toys
                         Each had a wooden horse,
                         Gaily they played one summer day
                         Warriors both, of course.
     
                         One little chap had a mishap
                         And broke off his horse's head,
                         He cried for his toy, and then cried for joy
                         When his brave comrade said:
     
                            Chorus:
                         "Did you think I could leave you crying
                         When there's room on my horse for two?
                         Jump on, Jack, and we'll be flying
                         We can go just as fast with two.
                         When we grow up, we'll be soldiers
                         Then our horses will not be toys,
                         Then I wonder if we'll remember
                         When we were two little boys."
     
                         Long years went past, the war came at last
                         Gaily they rode away,
                         Cannons roared loud, midst that dark crowd,
                         Wounded and dying, Jack lay.
     
                         A sound of a cry, a horse passing by
                         From out the ranks of blue,
                         ...
                         When a voice came loud and true:
     
                            Chorus:
                         "Did you think I could leave you dying
                         When there's room on my horse for two?
                         Climb on, Jack, and we'll be flying
                         To the ranks of the boys in blue.
                         Did you say, Jack, I was all a-tremble?
                         For it may be the battle's noise,
                         Or it may be that I remember
                         When we were two little boys."
     
               Learned about 1920.
     
     
     
                                    27
     
                   SHOUTING THE BATTLE CRY OF FREEDOM!
     
                         Mary had a little lamb
                         It's fleece was white as snow,
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
                         Everywhere that Mary went
                         The lamb was sure to go
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
     
                         Chorus:
                         Freedom forever, hurray, boys, hurray!
                         Down with the traitor and up with the stars.
                         While we rally 'round the flag, boys,
                         Rally once again,
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
          
                         Then it followed her to school one day
                         Which was against the rules,
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
                         It made the children laugh and play
                         To see a lamb at school,
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
     
                         The teacher turned it out of doors
                         But still it lingered near,
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
                         And waited patiently about
                         'Til Mary did appear,
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
     
                         "What makes the lamb love Mary so?"
                         The little children cried,
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
                         "Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know,"
                         The teacher did reply,
                         Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
     
     
               Not sung to the traditional tune of "Mary Had a Little Lamb."
               Learned before 1900.



                                        28
     
                         Captain Jinx of the horse marines,
                         He feeds his horse on corn and beans.
                         I know it's quite beyond his means,
                         But he's a Captain in the army.
     
                         He taught the ladies how to dance,
                         How to dance, how to dance,
                         He taught the ladies how to dance,
                         For he's a Captain in the army.
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
                                    29
     
                         For Ireland waves the harping shamrock,
                         England floats the lion, bold,
                         Even China waves the dragon,
                         Germany, an eagle gold.
     
                         Bonnie Scotland waves the thistle,
                         Turkey waves the crescent moon,
                         What won't the Yankees do
                         For their own Red, White, and Blue?
                         Every nation has a flag but the coon.
     
               Learned from a neighbor, Hans Andreason, about 1902.
     
     
                                    30
     
                            SWEET KITTY WELLS
     
                         You ask what makes this darkie weep,
                         Why he, like others, am not gay?
                         What makes the tears roll down his cheek
                         From early dawn 'til close of day?
     
                         My story, darkies, you shall hear
                         While in my memory fresh it dwells.
                         'Twill cause you all to drop a tear
                         On the grave of my sweet Kitty Wells.
     
                         I never shall forget the day
                         That we together roamed the dell.
                         I kissed her cheek and named the day
                         That I should marry Kitty Wells.
          
                         But death came in her cabin door
                         And took from me my joy and pride.
                         And when I found she was no more
                         I laid my banjo down and cried.
     
                         Chorus:
                         While the birds were singing in the morning,
                         And the myrtle and the ivy were in bloom,
                         And the sun on the hilltops was dawning,
                         It was there we laid her in the tomb.
          
                         I oft times wish that I were dead,
                         And laid beside her in the tomb.
                         The sorrow that bows down my head
                         Is silent in the midnight gloom.
     
                         The springtime has no charm for me,
                         Though flowers are blooming in the dells.
                         There is a charm I do not see,
                         'Tis the form of my sweet Kitty Wells.

               Learned from her parents, before 1900.
                         
     
     
                                     31
          
                              I had a little nigger
                              That couldn't grow no bigger
                              So I put him in a wild beast show
     
                              He jumped out of the winder
                              And broke his little finger
                              So he couldn't play the old banjo
     
                              Then I had another
                              As cunning as a fox
                              And he always kept tobacco
                              In his own tobacco box.
     
          Learned from her brother, William Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    32
     
              It's all about my color, that I'm feeling mighty blue,
              I have a heap o' trouble, I will tell it all to you.
     
              I am certainly disgusted with life, and that's a fact,
              Because my hair is curly, and because my color am black.
     
              My girl, she took a fancy against the colored race,
              She said if I should wed her, I'd have to change my face.
     
              She said if I would wed her, that I'd regret it soon,
         And then she cried, both good and loud: "Coon, Coon, Coon!"
     
         Oh, I had my face enameled, I had my hair made straight,
         Dressed up like a white man, I certainly did look great.
     
         I started out to see her, just shortly after dark,
         And on the way to see my girl, I had to cross a park.
     
         Just as I was thinking, that I had things fixed up right,
         I saw a tree where two doves sat a making love at night.
     
	     They stopped and looked me over, and saw my color soon,
         Then both those doves cried good and loud: "Coon, Coon, Coon!"
               
               Learned about 1905.
               
                    
     
     
     
                                              33
     
                         There was a big watermelon
                         A growin' in the garden
                         And beneath the garden wall, there was a hole
     
                         Where a skinny little nigger
                         Was lookin' through the fence
                         With his shiny eyes bigger than a bowl.
     
                         Said the skinny little nigger,
                         "If I was a little bigger,
                         I would climb up the old garden wall.
     
                         "I would do it like a rabbit,
                         Jump through the hole and grab it,
                         And there'd be no watermelon there at all!"
     
                         There was a little billy goat
                         A lookin' for his dinner,
                         When soon he spied an old tin can.
     
                         He didn't raise the question
                         On the subject of digestion,
                         But he ate it like a nigger would a clam!
     
                         Then he started up a tree
                         Just as happy as could be, 
                         But the can was full of nails and dynamite.
          
                         The dynamite exploded
                         And the little goat was loaded,
                         And he disappeared forever out of sight!
     
               Learned from her brother, William Ransom, Cleveland, Idaho, about 1908.
                         
     
     
                                    34
     
       I came from Alabama with my head full of knowledge
       I never went to free school, nor any other college,
       But there's one thing I'll tell you, supposed to be the fact,
       I'll tell you how the world was made in a twinkling of a crack.
     
                    Chorus:
       Then a walkin', an' a walkin', an' a walkin', an' I say 
       Walk into the parlor and hear the banjo play,
       Walk into the kitchen and hear the banjo ring
       And watch the nigger's fingers, as he picks upon the strings.
     
       The world was made in six days and finished on the 'leventh
       But the contract took, it should have been the seventh,
       But the carpenters got drunk, and the masons wouldn't work
       And the only way they got it done, they filled it up with dirt.
     
       Oh, Adam was the first man, and Eve was another,
      And Cain walked the treddin' mill because he killed his brother,
      Old mother Eve couldn't sleep without a piller,
      And the greatest man that ever lived was Jack, the Giant killer.
     
      Oh, the wind began to blow, and the rain began to fall
      And the water came so high, it drowned the niggers all.
      It rained for forty days and nights, according to the countin',
      And it landed Noah's ark on the Alligator mountain.
     
     Learned from Roy Smith, a relative, at Cleveland, Idaho, about 1913. Sung at church parties.

     
                                    35
     
                            OLD BOB RIDDELY, O
     
                         Oh, I just came over from yonder mountain,
                         How many miles? I did not count 'em.
     
                         I left my folks on the old plantation,
                         I came down here to finish my education.
     
                         I am Old Bob Riddely, O,
                         I am Old Bob Riddely, Ay,
                         Old Bob Riddely am my name,
                         I am Old Bob Riddely, O.
     
               Learned from Roy Smith, a relative, about 1913.
     
     
     
     
                                    36
     
            There's a low, green, valley on the old Kentucky shore
            Where I've whiled many hours away,
            A sittin' and a singin' by the little cottage door
            Where lived my darling Nellie Gray.
     
            When the moon had climbed the mountain, and the stars were                                      
                        shinin' too
            Then I'd take my darling Nellie Gray
            And we'd float down the river in my little red canoe
            While my banjo sweetly I would play.
     
         One night I went to see her, but she's gone the neighbors say
            And the white man had bound her with his chain.
            They have taken her to Georgia for to wear her life away
            As she toils in the cotton and the cane.
     
                    Chorus:
            Oh, my poor Nellie Gray, they have taken you away
            And I'll never see my darling, anymore.
            I'm sittin' by the river and a weepin' all the day
            For you've gone from the old Kentucky shore.
     
            My canoe is under water, and my banjo is unstrung
            I am tired of livin', anymore.
            My eyes shall look downward, and my song shall be unsung
            While I stay on the old Kentucky shore.
     
            I am getting old and feeble, and I cannot see my way
            Hark, there's somebody knockin' at the door.
            I can hear the angels singin', and I see my Nellie Gray
            So farewell to the old Kentucky shore.
     
                    Chorus:
            Oh, my darling Nellie Gray, up in heaven, so they say
            And they'll never take you from me, anymore.
            I'm comin', comin', comin', as the angels clear the way
            So farewell to the old Kentucky shore.

   
                                    37
          
                         In a quaint old Western village
                              Sat two miners, one bright day
                         They were thinking of their loved ones
                              Who were waiting far away.
          
                         "Jack," said one, "I've thought it over
                              And there's something bids me go
                          And so tonight I think I'll write
                              Just a word to let them know.
     
                               "For I hear the children singing
                              And I hear their evening prayer
                          I can see a baby clinging
                              To its mother, waiting there.
     
                               "I can hear sweet voices ringing
                              In the fields we used to roam
                          It seems that they are calling me, Jack,
                              So I guess I'll go home."
     
               Learned from her husband, Caleb Johnson Burton, about 1906.           
          
     
     
     
                                      38
     
                              Down in the coal mine
                                   Underneath the ground,
                              Where no gleam of sunshine
                                   Ever can be found
     
                              Digging dusky diamonds
                                   All the season round,
                              Down in the coal mine
                                   Underneath the ground.
     
               Learned from a neighbor, Hans Andreason, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                       39
     
                              Sweet bunch of daisies     
                                   Oh, how dear to me,
                              Ever I hear them
                                   Whispering love to me.
     
                              Murmuring so gently
                                   In the silent theme,
                              Of one bright morning
                                   Now one sad, sweet dream.
     
                                Chorus: Sweet bunch of daisies
                                   Brought from the dell,
                                    Kiss me once, sweetheart,
                                   Daisies won't tell.
     
                              Give me your promise
                                   Oh, sweetheart, do 
                              Darling, I love you,
                                   Won't you be true?
     
                              Sweet bunch of daisies
                                   Treasured more than gold,
                              Brings back to memory
                                   Those sweet days of old.
     
                              When we, together,
                                   Strolled through forest green,
                              Gathering the daisies
                                   Growing by the stream.
     
               Learned from a home magazine, about 1905.
     
                         
     
                                    40
     
                                 REBECCA
     
                         Down by the stream where I first met Rebecca
                         ...
     
                         Sweet were the garlands I wore for Rebecca
                         Blue were her eyes, as she looked into mine
     
                         One, two, three, four
                         Sometimes I wish there were more.
     
                         E Ni, Dar Vi, so said the heathen Chinee
                         For the girls bereft, there will be left
                         One, two, and three.
     
               Only fragments of this song were remembered. Learned about 1922.
     
     
     
                                    41
     
                           OVER THE GARDEN WALL
     
                              Over the garden wall
                              The sweetest girl of all.
     
                         Chorus: There never was yet
                              Such eyes of jet
                              And you may bet
                              I'll never forget
                              The night our lips and kisses met
                              Over the garden wall.
     
                              She was not very tall
                              So she stood on a chair,
                              And many a night I've kissed her there
                              Over the garden wall.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    42
     
                      YES, I WILL BE YOUR SWEETHEART
     
                         'Twas on a bright mid-summer day
                         Two children at their merry play,
                         Pretending they two sweethearts were.
                         He just had kneeled to her
                         And people, passing, heard the plea
                         If she would his dear sweetheart be
                         And with a twinkle of an eye
                         The little maid gave this reply:
     
                         Chorus:
                                   "Yes, I will be your sweetheart,
                         My bonnie bright-eyed lad,
                         Far more than a friendly liking
                         For you I have always had.
                         Yes, I will be your sweetheart
                         Proud of my manly beau,
                         We'll be two happy lovers
                         As on through life we go."
     
                         The years rolled on, they outgrew play
                         Their frocks and aprons laid away,
                         The lass to boarding school was sent
                         The lad, he off to college went.
                         Vacation came and school was o'er
                         He spent one evening on the shore.
                         ...
                         Before him there, these words he traced:
     
                         (Chorus.)
     
               Learned from a cousin, Isabelle Ransom, Lewiston, Utah, about 1899. [It is not clear as to whether or not certain words were changed in repeating the chorus.--LRB]
     
                         
     
                                    43
     
                    Oh, the strawberries grow on the mowing, Mill May
                    And the bobolink sings in the tree,
                    On the knolls the red clover is growing, Mill May
                    Then come to the meadows with me.
     
                    Yes, come the wild cherries among the thick grass
                    We'll pick in the mowing, Mill May, Mill May,
                    And the long afternoon together we'll pass
                    Where the clover is growing, Mill May, Mill May,
                    Where the clover is growing, Mill May.
     
                    Oh, the sun slantering under your bonnet, Mill May,
                    Will bring a soft glow to your face,
                  And your lips, the strawberry leaf on them, Mill May
                  ?    To a flint naught the sea could efface.
     
                    Yes, come the ripe clusters among the thick grass
                    We'll pick in the mowing, Mill May, Mill May,
                    And the long afternoon together we'll pass
                    Where the clover is growing, Mill May, Mill May,
                    Where the clover is growing, Mill May.
     
               Learned from her sister, Mary Ransom Burton, before 1900. Sung at school.
               
     
     
                                    44
     
                             LOVE, SWEET LOVE
     
                 Love, sweet love, is a poet's theme,
                 Love, sheet love, is a poet's scheme,
                 But what is the love of a lover's dream?
				 
                 'Tis but the love of a beauty's face,
                 'Tis but the fortune that beauty cannot efface,
                 'Tis but the love of the bright sparkling eyes,
                 'Tis but the love sent from paradise.
     
               Learned from her Aunt, Violet Austin, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    45
     
                         Just one year ago today, love,
                         I became your happy bride,
                         Changed a mansion for a cottage,
                         To dwell by the river side.
     
                         Oh, you told me I'd be happy,
                         But no happiness I see,
                         For tonight I am a widow,
                         In the cottage by the sea.
          
                         All alone by the seaside you left me,
                         And no other's bride I'll be,
                         For in bridal robes you decked me,
                         In the cottage by the sea.
     
               Learned before 1900.     
     
     
                                    46
                         
                              On a Sunday afternoon
                              In the merry month of June
                              Take a trip up the harbor
                              Or down to the bay,
                              Take a trolley to Coney
                              One rock away.
          
                              On a Sunday afternoon
                              You can see the lovers spoon
                              They work hard on Monday
                              But one day, that's fun day
                              Is Sunday afternoon.
     
                  Learned from Myrtle Ransom Goff, who brought this song to Cleveland, Idaho, from Arizona, in 1903. Coney = Coney Island. Rock away = Rockaway, or Far Rockaway (Long Island beaches).
     
     
     
                                    47
     
                             ILA, MY DARLING
     
                         I am always light-hearted and easy
                         Not a care in this wide world have I,
                         You see I am loved by a fair one
                         That I could not forget if I'd try.
     
                         She lives far away o'er the ocean
                         And I know she is waiting for me,
                         In a cottage all covered with ivy
                         There my Ila is waiting for me.
     
                         Chorus:
                         Over, yes, over the ocean
                         Where the little birds sing in the trees,
                         In a cottage all covered with ivy
                         There my Ila is waiting for me.
          
                         The day I said goodbye to my Ila
                         That day I will never forget,
                         The tears bubbled down from her slumber
                         I fancy I see them yet.
     
                         They looked like the pearls of the ocean
                         As she wiped them, those tears of love
                         Saying, "Teddy, dear boy, don't forget me,
                         We will meet here below, or above."
     
                         The waters and lands may divide us
                         Friends, like flowers, may come and go
                         But the thoughts of my Ila will cheer me
                         As back to the old home I go.
     
                         Fare thee well, Ila, my darling
                         Though your fair face I may never more see,
                         But here all alone in my sorrow
                         My dreams will all be of thee.
     
               Learned from her husband, Caleb Johnson Burton, in the year 1908. A daughter born to them that year was named Ila (Ila Burton
Mortensen), after the song.
     
                         
     
                                    48
     
                           THE GYPSY'S WARNING
     
                         Heed him not, O gentle lady
                         Though his voice be low and sweet.
                         Heed not him, who kneels before you
                         Gently pleading, at thy feet.
     
                         Now thy life is in its morning
                         Cloud not this, thy happy lot.
                         Listen to the gypsy's warning,
                         Gentle lady, trust him not.
     
                         Lady, once there lived a maiden,
                         Pure and bright and like thee, fair.
                         But he woo'ed and woo'ed and won her
                         And filled her gentle heart with care.
          
                         Then he heeded not her pleading,
                         Nor cared he, her life to save.
                         Soon she perished, now she's sleeping
                         In a cold and silent grave.
     
                         Gentle lady, do not wonder
                         At my words so strange and wild.
                         Lady, in that green grave yonder
                         Lies the gypsy's only child.
     
               Learned from her parents, before 1900.
                                        
                         
                    
                                    49
     
                              I furnished a flat
                              And all day she sat
                              A wondering what to do.
                              She was an old bluff
                              She was willing,
                              As green as a Spanish stew.
          
                              But the bread she made up
                              I fed to my pup
                              And the poor little dog passed away.
          
                              Chorus:
                              When you marry a girl for looks
                              The looks may look all right,
                              But you'll be kept busy
                              With eyes and hooks
                              Pulling the strings up tight.
     
                              Beautiful eyes and golden hair
                              Never make very good cooks.
                              Oh, if you knew
                              What was coming to you
                              When you marry a girl for looks.
     
               Learned from a neighbor, Marinda Willard, about 1906.
                         
     
     
     
                                           50
     
                 I was introduced to my wife at a ball
                 Her fair ways, her graces, exceeded them all
                 Her pretty black tresses, and her teeth pearly white
             And her eyes seemed to shine like two diamonds at night.
     
                 Her teeth, pearly white, she takes out every night,
                 Bad temper is all she inherits by rights
                 She builds up with cotton before and behind
                 And that's what I got, boys, by going it blind.
          
                         Chorus:
                         Go it slow, go it slow, boys,
                         And make this your rule:
                         Go it slow, go it easy
                         And don't be a fool.
                         If you marry when love
                         Does your heart first inspire,
                         You'll jump from the frying pan
                         Into the fire.
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, before 1900.
               
     
     
                                    51
     
                                 CHEYENNE
     
                              Cheyenne, Cheyenne,
                              Hop on my Pony
                              There's room here 
                              For two, dear,
                              And after the ceremony
                              We'll both ride home as one
                              On a Pony from old Cheyenne.
     
     
     
                                    52
     
                        PRIDE OF THE PRAIRIE, MARY
     
                   Out on a wild and lonely prairie
                   Not far from old Pueblo town,
                   There lived a little girl called Mary
                   With blue eyes and tresses of brown.
          
                   Far o'er the plains there came a cowboy
                   He asked, "When may I steal a kiss?"
                   She bowed her head and answered, "Now, boy,"
                   He stole a kiss. He stole a kiss, and murmured this:
          
                   Chorus:
                        "Pride of the Prairie, Mary, my own
                         Hop on my pony, go to my home.
                         My heart's been lassoed, no more to roam
                         Pride of the Prairie, Mary."
     
                         Far o'er the prairie the dawn was breaking
                         And all was quiet o'er the plain,
                         While to his Mary he was saying,
                              "Tell me you love me again."
     
                         He held her bronco while she smiled
                         Then asked her, "May I steal a kiss?"
                         He stole more than she ever counted.
                He stole a kiss. He stole a kiss, and murmured this:
     
                         (Chorus.)
     
               Learned about 1915.
     
     
     
                                    53
     
                               FALLEN LEAF
     
                         Far beyond that lonely prairie
                         Where a noble forest lies,
                         Dwelt the fairest Indian maiden
                         Ever seen by mortal eyes.
          
                         Her, whose eyes were like the sunbeams,
                         Daughter of the warrior chief,
                         Sought to cheer her home in autumn
                         And they called her Fallen Leaf.
          
                         Chorus:
                         Fallen Leaf, the breezes whispered
                         Of the spirit's early flight,
                         There within that lonely wigwam
                         There's a wail of woe, tonight.
     
                         In the depths of the lonely forest
                         On a quiet summer day,
                         Came a hunter, lone and dreary,
                         On his long and weary way.
     
                         Weeks passed by, but still he lingered,
                         Gentle Fallen Leaf, he cried,
                         Then with a smile of love she promised
                         Soon to be his happy bride.
     
                         On a quiet day he wandered
                         On the prairie's waste, alone,
                         Long she watched and long she waited
                         But his fate was never known.
     
                         With the summer leaf she faded,
                         With the autumn leaf she died,
                         As she closed her eyes in slumber
                         By the quiet river's side.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
     
     
                                      54
     
                              Uncle Sam is on his road
                              Doo Da, Doo Da,
                              With a balky team and a heavy load
                              Doo Da, Doo Da, Day.
          
                              Now let us be on hand
                              By Brigham Young we'll stand,
                              And if our enemy does appear
                              We'll sweep them off the land.
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, before 1900. "Our enemy" = Johnson's Army.
     
     
     
                                    55
     
                              We yoked up Jim and Bally
                              All for to make a start,
                              To leave our home and garden
                              It almost broke our heart.
     
                              Betsy started out a walking
                              I told her to take care,
                              When all upon a sudden
                              She struck a prickly pear.
     
                              And she began to blubber out
                              As loud as she could bawl,
                              If I was back on Cottonwood
                              I wouldn't go at all.
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, before 1900. Jim and Bally = oxen. Perhaps other names were used in place of
"Betsy." Sung by saints who went South in the wake of Johnson's
army. Among them, James Rowley Ransom and his family, although 
               they were not polygamists. Cottonwood, in this case, is Cottonwood in Idaho, not Cottonwood in Salt Lake County.
     
     
     
                                    56
     
                         There's none so well as the farmer knows,
                         Where oats, peas, and barley grows.
     
                         Thus the farmer sows his seed,
                         Thus he stands to take his ease.
          
                         While waiting for a partner,
                         While waiting for a partner.
     
                         Open the ring and choose one in 
                         And kiss her as she enters in.
          
                         Now you're married, you must obey,
                         You must be true to all, they say.
          
                         You must be kind, you must be good,
                         And make your husband chop the wood.
     
                         Split it up fine, and carry it in,
                         And then you'll let him kiss you again.
     
               A song game, played in school.
     
     
     
                                    57
     
                              THE FARMER BOY
     
                         The sun had gone down behind the hill
                         And across the dreary moor
                         Both weary and lonely, a boy came up
                         Unto a farmer's door.
     
                         Says he, "Kind sir, can you tell me
                         Where I can get employ,
                         To plow, to sow, to reap, and to mow,
                         And to be a farmer's boy.
          
                         "My father's dead, my mother's left
                         With her fine children, small,
                         And what is worse for poor mother yet
                         I'm the largest of them all.
     
                         "But if you can't give to me employ
                         One favor yet I ask,
                         Please shelter me this one cold night
                         From the stormy wintry blast."
     
                    "Come in," says the farmer, "We'll try the lad,
                         He need no further seek."
                         "Oh, do, Papa," his daughter cried
                         As the tears rolled down her cheek.
     
                         "For those that do labor 'tis hard to run
                         Elsewhere to seek employ
                         To plow, to sow, to reap, and to mow
                         And to be a farmer's boy."
          
                         The years rolled by, the lad grew up
                         And the good old farmer died.
                         He left him the farm that he did have
                         And his daughter for his bride.
     
                         The lad that was, is a farmer now
                         And he sits and smiles with joy,
                         And blesses the day he came that way
                         For to be a farmer's boy.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900. 
     
     
     
                                    58
     
                           MY MERRY AUTOMOBILE
     
                         Johnny Steel had an automobile
                         He loved a dear little girl.
                         She was the queen of his gas machine
                         And set his heart in a whirl.
     
                         Each noon they'd spoon by the engine's tune
                         Their honeymoon would happen soon.
                         He'd win Lucille with his automobile
                         And then he'd gently call:
     
                         Chorus:
                              "Come away with me, Lucille
                         In my merry automobile,
                         Down the road of life we'll fly
                         Automobiling, you and I
                         To the church we'll gently steal
                         And our wedding bells will peal.
                         You may ride as far as you like with me
                         In my merry automobile."
     
                         They love to spark in the dark old park
                         As they go flying along.
                         She says she knows why the motor goes:
                         The sparker is awfully strong!
                         And when they go for a spin, you know,
                         She loves to drive his auto so
                         He lets her steer while he gets her ear
                         And whispers soft and low:
     
                         (Chorus.)
     
               Learned at Downey, Idaho. Popular about 1915-1918.
     
     
     
                                      59
     
                    Once a young man had a pretty little queen
                    He took her for a ride in his big limousine,
                    The car kicked up, the engine wouldn't crank
                    There wasn't any gas in the gasoline tank.
     
                    Just about this time, along came Nord
                    And he rattled right along in his little old Ford,
                    He stole that queen and the engine sang a song,
                    And the little old Ford, it rambled right along.
     
                    The little old Ford, it rambled right along
                    The little old Ford, it rambled right along,
                    The gas burned out in the big machine
                    The little old Ford don't need gasoline.
     
                    When you bust out a tire
                    Just wrap it up with wire,
                    And the little Ford will ramble right along.
     
                    It ran over pigs and puppy dog tails,
                    It bumped into a preacher
                    And the preacher took a ride,
                    And the Ford rambled on, with Johnny and his bride.
     
               Learned at Downey, Idaho, about 1915-1918.
     
     
     
                                          60
          
                              When they drove a Buick
                              A big yellow Buick
                              And I drove a little old Ford.
     
                              They tried to guy me
                              When they passed by me
                              But their insults I ignored.
          
                              They tried to tease me
                              And even deceive me
                              But now they may thank the Lord.
     
                              For an accident stalled them
                              And I had to haul them
                              Back home in my little old Ford.
     
               Learned at Downey, Idaho. Popular about 1918-1919.
     
     
     
                                    61
     
                         MY DEAR NEW ENGLAND HOME
     
            Beyond the mighty Rockies, as the sun is sinking fast
            And deepening shadows tell 'tis close of day,
            My mind is fondly dwelling o'er sweet memories of the past
            And loved ones I have left far, far away.
     
            A dear New England homestead, set in a sea of green
            In a vision rises now before my eyes,
            And with an awe I mutely gaze upon that hallowed scene
            As the fleeting day, in golden glory, dies.
     
                    Chorus:
            As the day is dying in the West
            The world is softly hushed to rest,
            And my heart is sighing, my thoughts are flying
            To the spot of my dear New England home.
     
           Through memory's eyes I view again, those cherished scenes
                        of yore
           As I see my mother's wistful loving face,
           There, dear old Father bent with age, sits by the open door,
           And sister bustles around the dear old place.
     
            'Tis but a memory, for alas, they all have passed away,
            And strangers now the dear old homestead fill.
            The sweetheart of my boyhood, with whom I used to play
            In the churchyard, too, is sleeping on the hill.
     
                    Chorus:
            As the day is dying in the West
            The world is softly hushed to rest,
            And my heart is sighing, my thoughts are flying
            To the spot of my dear New England home.
     
            So every night as sinks the sun o'er all the mighty West
            From the Mississippi to the distant coast,
      A million minds are busy, with the thoughts they love the best,
            In many ways, they fly a mighty host.
     
      Back, back, unto the well known scenes, where childhood days                                    
            were spent
      They silent steal, and in the shadows grey
      They see the dear old homestead, God bless it, and content
      They dream the hours of eventide away.
        
               Learned from a neighbor, Marinda Willard, Cleveland, Idaho, about 1920.
     
     
     
     
                                    62
      
                            THE OLD HOMESTEAD
     
                    There's an old home that stands on the square
                    For ninety long years, that old homestead has stood
                    Surrounded by trees and a fence that is worn
                    The home of my forefathers, where I was born.
          
                    You seldom would find a happier lot
                    Than our little family, that dwelt in a cot
                  There were father and mother, sister, brother, and I
                    'Til sickness came o'er us, and father did die.
     
                    Then brother left home to find something to do
                    But where he had gone to, no one even knew,
                    We toiled late and early to keep down the debt,
                    And oft-times I find myself pleading them yet.
     
                    Don't sell the old home, don't sell it I pray
                    Do not turn my mother out, so feeble and so gray,
                    And my dear loving sister, so weak and so frail--
              Auctioneer, auctioneer, won't you please stop the sale?
     
                    In vain and re-pleading, without any vail 
                    The auctioneer continued to cry on the sale,
                    The very best bidder was a man, quite unknown
                    He paid down the money, and he purchased our home.
     
                    Then mother and I with hearts sad and sore
         Prepared the next morning to leave our cottage door,
         When the stranger walked up, saying, "Your sorrows are done,
                    For I am your own, your long lost son."
     
                    Then love and rejoicing were there on that day
         When brother embraced mother, so feeble and so gray.
                    And my dear loving sister, so weak and so frail,
                And that put an end to that dreadful sheriff's sale.
     
               Learned from her husband, Caleb Johnson Burton, before 1900. Since the only line that doesn't rhyme is line two, perhaps it 
ended "stood there" instead of "has stood."   
     
     
     
                                    63

                    'MIDST THE GREEN FIELDS OF VIRGINIA
     
                    'Midst the green fields of Virginia
                    In the vale of Shanadock
                    There's an ivy-covered homestead that I love.
                    With it's quaint, old-fashioned chimney
                    And its simple home-like air,
                    'Twas the home of my dear parents, now above.
     
                    Though I'm living in a mansion, grand
                    With wealth at my command,
                    I'd give it all just for one single day
                    To play with my young companions
                    And to see my Mother, dear,
                   'Midst the green fields of Virginia, far away.
     
                    Chorus:
              There's a peaceful cottage there, a happy home so dear 
              And my heart is longing for it day by day,
          Where I spent life's golden hours, in the vale of Shanadock
              'Midst the green fields of Virginia, far away.
     
                    'Midst the green fields of Virginia
                    Stands an old mill by the stream
                    And I cam to that old spot to sing and play,
                    Oh, how oft times would I throw the stones into the 
                         babbling brook
                    And I drempt someday 'twould carry me away.
     
                    Yes, my dream came true, one day in June
                    I left the dear old home
                    They told me Mother's heart had broke that day
             Oh, if I could but see her, I would lay me down and die
                    'Midst the green fields of Virginia, far away.
     
               Learned from her husband, Caleb Johnson Burton, about 1902. Shanadock = Shenandoah.
     
     
     
                                    64
     
                     THE CAT THAT COULDN'T STAY AWAY
     
                    Old Mister Johnson had troubles of his own
               He had an old yellow cat that couldn't leave his home
                    He gave it to a preacher, and told it for to stay
                    But the cat came back, the very next day.
     
                    Chorus:
            O, the cat came back when they thought he was a goner,
            O, the cat came back, cause he couldn't stay away,
            O, the cat came back, cause he couldn't stay no longer,
            O, the cat came back, the very next day.
          
               Old Mister Johnson thought it would be best
               So he gave him to a nigger who was going way out West,
               The train, going round a curve, struck a broken rail
        And not a man that board that train was left to tell the tale.
          
                    Chorus:
     
               Old Mister Johnson thought he'd shoot him out of sight
               So he loaded up his musket with nails and dynamite,
               He laid around the corner 'til the cat came around
               But a half a dozen pieces of the man was all they found.
     
                    Chorus:
     
                Mister Johnson gave him to a man in a balloon
                And told him for to give him to the man up in the moon,
                The balloon, it bursted, so the people say,
                And pieces of the man was found a thousand miles away.
     
                    (Chorus.)
     
               Learned before 1900. A dance tune. A childhood favorite of the compiler of this collection (born 1925).
     
     
     
                                    65
     
                    MY KITTY HAS GONE FROM THE BASKET
     
                    My kitty has gone from the basket
                    My kitty has climbed up a tree
                    Oh, who will go up 'mongst the branches
                    And bring back my kitty to me?
     
                    Chorus:
               Bring back, bring back, bring back my kitty to me, to me
               Bring back, bring back, oh bring back my kitty to me.
     
               My kitty has climbed up the branches
               She wears a white spot on her nose
               She washes her face every morning
               She washes it more, I suppose.
			   
               That boy that lives down by the river
               Came up with his naughty old dog
               And he frightened my kitty most dreadful
               Up there she is mewing, just hark.
          
               They say when most people gets frightened
               Their hair turns perfectly white
               If that is the case of my kitty
               'Twon't have a black hair by tonight.
     
                    (Chorus.)
     
               Learned from a neighbor, Marinda Willard, before 1900.
     
     
     
     
                                     66
     
                        OH WHERE, OH WHERE IS MY KITTY?
     
                    Oh where, oh where is my little grey kitty?
                    I've hunted the house all around
                    I've looked in the cradle
                    In under the table
                    And nowhere can kitty be found.
     
                    I saw a boy trundle away a small bundle
                    And carry it down to the brook
                    Perhaps it was kitty, so cunning and pretty,
                    I think I'll go down there and look.
     
                    I'll take my hook and go down to the brook
                    To see if my kitty is there
                    And if I find that my kitty's been drowned
                    Oh, then I'll give up in despair.
     
                    Your little grey kitty has not been drowned
                    I've found her and brought her to you
                    But before you take, a promise please make
                    That you'll not blame the boys anymore.
     
               Learned about 1905.
     
     
                                    67
     
                         The cat is in the garden, tra la la
                         He's looking for a sparrow
                         So sparrow, dear, take care, take care
                         The cat is there, a meal to share
                         Tra la la la la la la.
     
                         The cat has caught the sparrow, tra la la
                         The pretty little sparrow
                         Has gone from here, oh dear, oh dear
                         His pretty voice no more I'll hear
                         Tra la la la la la la.
     
               Learned about 1900. A school song.
     
     
     
                                    68
     
                         There came to my window one morning in spring
                         A sweet little robin came there for to sing.
     
                         The tune that she sang was prettier by far
                         Than ever I'd heard on a flute or guitar.
     
                         She raised her light wings to fly far away
                         Then resting a moment, seemed sweetly to say:
     
                         "Happy, how happy, this world seems to be
                         Up, up, little girl, and be happy with me."
     
                         Chorus:
                         Tra la la la la la, Tra la la la la,
                         Tra la la la la, Tra la la la la.
     
                         As soon as she finished her beautiful song
                    A thoughtless young man with his gun came along.
     
                         He killed and he carried my birdie away
                    She will never more sing at the dawn of the day.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    69
     
                         In a pretty little house
                         Lived a naughty little mouse
                         Who used to steal the butter and the cheese.
     
                         And of everything so nice
                         This mouse would take a slice
                         Without so much as saying, "If you please."
     
                         But one day there came a cat
                         Who was very sleek and fat
                         And when the mouse peeked out behind the door
     
                         Miss puss put out her paws
                         And grabbed him with her claws
                         And the naughty little mouse was seen no more.
     
               Sung in school in Cleveland, Idaho, about 1895-6.
     
     
     
                                    70
     
                        OLD MISTER FLANIGAN'S PUP
     
                         Old Mister Flanigan had a bull pup
                         He was raised from the Flanigan stock
                         For seventeen hours in the battle he fought
                         And he did, to my soul, by the clock.
     
                         To me, bow wow wow, such a dog to be sure
                         For fighting he'd never give up
                         There never was yet such a wonderful dog
                         As old Mister Flanigan's pup.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
               
     
     
                                    71
     
                    Old Mother Diddle Doddle hopped out of bed
                    And said, "Come, John, the old goose is dead!"
                    And the fox is going out of town O, town O, town O,
                    And the fox is going out of town O.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
          
     
                                       72                                                            
     
                    There was an old lady tossed up in a blanket
                    Nineteen times as high as the moon
                    When she came down, she thanked the Lord
                    For in her arms she carried a broom.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    73
     
                         Do you want to buy a broom, a broom, a broom?
                         Do you want to buy a broom, a broom, a broom?
     
                         A large one for the ladies
                         A small one for the babies
     
                         Do you want to buy a broom, a broom, a broom?
     
               Learned from a friend, Nancy Anderson, about 1895.
     
     
     
                                    74
     
                             BULLY LAGER BEER
     
                         Chorus: Oh, that Bully Lager Beer!
                              Oh, that Bully Lager Beer!
                              There's nothing in this world
                              Like that Bully Lager Beer!
     
                         Verse:    It's good for the girls
                              That want 'a catch a feller
                              For it makes them just as clever
                              As a mouse down the cellar!
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, about 1895.
     
     
     
                                    75
     
                              Oh, that mule was a kicker
                              He'd kick you up quicker
                              And sit you down slicker
                              Than old Boston liquor.
                              A kicker more quicker
                              Could never be found.
     
               Learned from her brother, William Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                          76
                                                                                                  
     
                              Good morning, merry sunshine!
                              How did you wake so soon?
                              You chased away the little stars
                              And shinned away the moon.
     
     
                              I saw you go to sleep last night
                              Before I said my prayer,
                              How did you get way over there?
                              And, pray, where did you stay?
     
                              I never go to sleep, my dear,
                              I just go round to see
                              The little children over East
                              That watch and pray for me.
     
               Learned in school at the age of nine (1895).
     
     
                                            77
     
                              My Fodder he am wun Dutcha boy
                              My Mudder she am wun, too,
                              And I am dat little Dutcha boy
                              Dat sing dis song mit you:
     
                              Ta la, ta la lu ya
                              Ta la la, ta la lu ya
                              Ta la la lu ya
                              Ta lu ya, ta la.
     
               Learned from her father, James Rowley Ransom, about 1895.
     
     
     
                                           78
     
                                                                                                                                           
                               KIND WORDS CAN NEVER DIE
     
                   Kind words can never die, cherished and blessed
                   God knows how deep they lie, stored in thy breast.
           Like childhood's simple rhymes, said o'er a thousand times
           Go through all land and climes, the heart to cheer.
          
                         Chorus:
                    Kind words can never die, never die, never die
                    Kind words can never die, no, never die.
          
                    Kind words can never die, few though they be 
                    When angry waves roll high, on life's rough sea.
         Then comes the accent sweet, hearts filled with woe to greet
                    Blessed be the weary feet, while on the way.
     
               Learned in school, before 1900.
     
     
     
     
                                      79
     
                              Children, do you love each other?
                              Are you always kind and true?
                              Do you always do to others
                              As you'd have them do to you?
     
                              Be not selfish with each other
                              Never mar another's rest,
                              Try to make each other happy
                              And you will, yourself, be blessed.
     
               Learned before 1900.
     
     
     
                                      80
     
                         Oh, speak the truth, my pretty child
                         Oh, speak the sacred truth
                         'Twill blossom bright in years of age
                         'Twill blossom bright in years of age
                         'Tis planted now in youth.
     
                         For truth is like a lovely flower
                         That blooms in summer days
                         It is a flower that never fades
                         It is a flower that never fades
                         Nor its blossoms ne'er decay.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
                                          81
     
                              On Monday, I'm with Mary Ann
                              On Tuesday, Sarah Jane
                              On Wednesday, I'm with Miss McCann
                              On Thursday, Kitty Paine
                              On Friday, Betty Dobson
                              On Saturday, Nellie Small
                              On Sunday night I stay at home
                              For fear I may meet them all!
     
               Learned from a neighbor, Hans Andreason, Cleveland, Idaho, about 1902.
     
     
     
                                   82
     
                              My Mama saidie
                              If I'd be goodie
                              That she would buy me
                              A rubber dollie.
     
                              So please don't tell her
                              I've got a feller
                              Or she won't buy me
                              A rubber dollie.
     
               Learned from Myrtle Ransom Goff who brought this song to Cleveland, Idaho, from Arizona, in 1903.
     
     
     
                                       83
     
                         [baby's name] is going to bye-lo land
                         Going to see the sights so grand
                         Out of the sky the wee stars peep
                         Watching her 'til she's fast asleep
     
                         Swing so, bye-lo
                         Baby is going to bye-lo land.
     
               Learned from a sister-in-law, Agnes M. Ransom, about 1910.
     
     
   
                                     84
     
                         I'm a little country lassie
                         I can iron, churn and bake
                         Wash the dishes, feed the poultry
                         Make a famous Johnny cake.
          
                         Ride the horses down to water
                         Drive the cows to the pasture green
                         I would not exchange my station 
                         For the throne of England's queen.
          
                         I'm a little city maiden
                         You can tell this by my style
                         Quite unlike those country lassies
                         With their broad and courteous smile.
          
                         I'll not soil my hands with labor
                         Mine were made for higher things
                         Papa calls me little angel
                         All I lack, he says, are wings.
          
                         I'm my mama's little helper
                         And I'm happy all day long
                         I can bring dear papa's slippers
                         Sing the baby's cradle song.
          
                         Rock him 'til the angels whisper
                         Make him smile from dreamland's shore
                         Run a thousand ways for Mother
                         Can a little girl do more?
          
                         I'm my mama's little student
                         I can cipher, read, and spell
                         Draw a map, or bound a country
                         And in 'mental, I excel.
     
                         I will climb the hill of knowledge
                         To the very top must go
                         Then success will crown my efforts
                         Teacher says, and ain't it so?
     
                         I am nothing by a noodle
                         Mama told me so today
                         But I really could not study
                         When the very fields are gay.
     
                         Birds are calling from the tree tops
                         Spring is waking lake and rill
                         You may mope o'er prosy lessons
                         I will be a noodle, still.
     
               Learned about 1910. Taught in schools.
     
     
     
                                    85
     
                         A grasshopper sitting on a railroad track
                         Singing Nora Lee
                         Along came a train and broke his back
                         Singing Nora Lee.
     
                         Nora Lee, Nora Lee
                         The maid with the golden hair
                         The sun came out one day so bright
                         With sparkles in the air.
     
               Learned from a friend of the family, Lon Wheeler, of Lewiston, Utah, about 1920.
     
     
     
     
                                  86
     
                    Oh, when I was single my pockets would jingle
                    Oh, I long to be single again.
          
                    My wife took a fever, and I hope it don't leave her
                    For I long to be single again.
     
               Learned about 1920.
     
     
     
                                    87
     
                         Thipping thider through a thraw
                         We thipped there for hours or more
                         She thipped first and I thipped last
                         She thipped most, cause she thipped so fast.
          
                         Preety thoon my thraw did thrip
                         And I thipped thider from her lip
                         That's how I won my mother-in-law
                         Thipping thider through a big, long thraw.
     
               Popular about 1920.
     
     
     
                                    88
     
                         The trees lift up their branches tall
                         Their leaves dance in the breeze
                         "Ho! Ho!" they say, "For what care we?
                         We're living at our ease."
     
                         But presently the woodman comes
                         With ax so sharp and bright
                         And choosing him a tall pine tree
                         He whacks with all his might.
     
                         Oh, see the tree has fallen now
                         It lies upon the ground
                         The ax cuts off each twig and bough
                         And round it chains are bound.
     
                         Two horses pull the tree along
                         Until a stream they find
                         On which the log floats to the mill
                         Where waits the miller, kind.
     
                         They lay the log before the saw
                         And back and forth it goes
                         Until the mill is full of boards
                         That lie in long white rows.
     
                         And then the children come to buy
                         Shingles and beams and planks
                         To build a house for which we must
                         Give tree and woodman thanks.
     
               Learned from children who learned it in school. 
               Agnes Amelia Ransom Burton's father operated a saw mill.
     
          
     
                    
                                    89
     
                         O, birdie, I am tired now
                              I do not care to hear you sing
                         You've sung your happy songs all day
                              So put you head beneath your wing.
          
                         I'm tired now, and sleepy, too
                              So when my evening prayer I've said
                         I want to lay me down to sleep
                              So put me in my little bed.
          
                         O, sister, what did Mother say
                              When she was called to heaven away?
                         She told me always to be good
                              And never, never go astray.
          
                         I can't forget the day she died
                              She laid her hand upon my head
                         And whispered softly, "Keep my child,"
                              And then they told me she was dead.
          
                         Come, sister, come, kiss me goodnight
                              For I my evening prayer I've said
                         I am tired now, and sleepy, too
                              So put me in my little bed.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, about 1896.
     
     
     
     
                                    90
     
                                 PICTURES
     
                         In a world famous gallery of pictures
                         Is a picture that's painted from life
                         There's a picture of love and of beauty
                         There's a picture of grief and of strife
                         There's a picture of youth and of patience
                         Old age, and a blushing young bride
                         All hang on the wall, but the saddest of all
                         Is a picture from life's other side.
     
                         Chorus:
                         'Tis a picture of life's other side
                         Someone that fell by the way
                         A life that's gone out with the tide
                         That might have been happy someday.
                         Some poor old mother at home
                         Is waiting and watching alone
                         Longing to hear from her loved one so dear
                         'Tis a picture from life's other side.
     
                         The first scene is that of a gambler
                         Who spends all his money at play
                         Draws his dead mother's ring from her finger
                         That she wore on her wedding day.
                         His last earthly treasure, he stakes it
                         Bows his head, that the shame he might hide
                    When they lifted his head, they found he was dead
                         'Tis a picture from life's other side.
     
                         The next scene was that of two brothers
                         Whose past life in different ways led
                         While one in luxury was living
                         The other one begged for his bread.
                         One dark night they met on the highway
                         "Your money, or life!" the thief cried
               And then, with his knife, took his own brother's life
                         'Tis a picture from life's other side.
     
                         The next scene was that of a river
                         Of a heart-broken mother and babe
                         ............................ quiver
                         An outcast and no one would save.
                         Although she was once a true woman
                         Somebody's darly and pride
                         God help her! She leaps
                         There is no one to weep
                         'Tis a picture from life's other side.
     
               Learned from her brother-in-law, George Burton, about 1898.
     
     
     
                                    91
     
                           TWO LITTLE CHILDREN
     
                         Two little children, a boy and a girl
                         Sat by an old church door
                    The girl's little feet were as brown as the curl
                         That hung o'er her dress that she wore.
                         The boy's coat was faded, and hatless his head
                         A tear shone in each little eye
                         "Why don't you run home to your mama," I said
                         And this was the maiden's reply:
     
                    Chorus:
                         "Mama's in heaven, they took her away
                         And left Jim and I alone
                         We came here to sleep at the close of day
                         For we have no mama, nor home.
                  We can't earn our bread, we're too little," she said
                         "There's no one to love us since Papa is dead
                         And our darling Mama's in heaven.
     
                         "Papa got lost out at sea long ago
                         We waited all night on the shore
                   He was one of the life-saving captains, you know,
                         And he never came back anymore.
                         Mama got sick, angels took her away," she said
                         "To a home, warm and bright
                 They'll come for my darlings," she told us, "Someday
                         Perhaps they are coming, tonight.
     
                    Chorus:
                         "Maybe tonight there is room for them there
                         Two little ones to keep."
                         Then placing her arm under little Jim's head
                         She kissed him, and both fell asleep.
                         The sexton came early to ring the church bell
                         And they laid beneath the snow, white
                         The angels made room for the orphans to dwell
                         In heaven with Mama that night.
     
               Learned at parties, before 1900. 
                    
                         
     
                                    92
     
                             THE TWO ORPHANS
     
                         I ne'er shall forget those two orphans
                         Bad luck seemed to lie in their way
                         It seemed they had come to our city
                         The life of our dear ones to take.
          
                         Fire, fire, O hear that dreadful sound
                         Fire, fire, O how it does resound
                         Fire, fire, O hear that dreadful sound
                         All over Chicago, 'tis burning to the ground.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
     
                                  93
     
                         Oh, don't you remember
                         A long time ago
                         Two little babies, 
                         Their names I don't know,
                         They wandered away 
                         One bright summer's day
                         And got lost in the woods, 
                         I've heard people say.
          
                         And when it came night
                         Oh, sad was the sight
                         The moon, it went down
                         And the stars gave no light.
          
                         They sighed and they sighed
                         And they bitterly cried
                         And the two little babes
                         They laid down and died.
          
                         And after they were dead
                         The robins so red
                         Brought strawberry leaves
                         And over them spread.
          
                         Then they sang and they sang
                         The whole day long
                         For the two little babes
                         A pitiful song.
     
               Learned from her mother, Agnes Elizabeth Austin Ransom, before 1900.
     
     
     
     
                                    94
     
                        A MOTHER'S FAREWELL TO HER BOY
     
                 A Mother was bidding farewell to her boy
                 He was going to leave her that morn
                 'Twas hard to depart from the one that he loved
                 And the humble cot where he was born.
     
                 He treasured the parting advice that she gave
                 Of love that a mother can feel
                 In vain he endeavored his tears to restrain
                 As he heard his fond mother's appeal:
     
                         Chorus:
                 "Be faithful and fearless, devoted and true
                 Be manly in sorrow or joy
                 In trials, remember, 'tis the darkest ere dawn."
                 'Twas a mother's appeal to her boy.
     
                 The years glided on and he wandered afar
                 Off alone like an exile he'd roam
                 In moments of sorrow, his heart would be cheered
                 As he thought of his mother at home.
     
                 She had always said, "Boy, never yield to despair
                 There's no pleasure without its alloy."
                 They never more met, but he'll never forget
                 The advice that she gave to her boy.
     
               First heard in Gentile Valley (Cleveland, Idaho) before 1900.
     
     
     
                                    95
     
                                  MADGE
     
                         While strolling down the street, one eve
                         Upon my pleasure bent
                         'Twas after business worry of the day
                         I met a girl who shrank from me
                         As whom I recognized
                         My schoolmate in a village far away.
     
                         "Is that you, Madge?" I said to her,
                         She quickly turned away.
                "Don't turn away, Madge, for I am still your friend,
                You know I'm going back to the old folks, and I thought
                         Perhaps a message you would like to send."
     
                         Chorus:
                         "Just tell them that you saw me," she said,
                         "They'll know the rest.
                         Just tell them I am looking well, you know,
           Just whisper if you get a chance to Mother dear, and say:
                         I love her as I did long, long ago."
     
                         "Your cheeks are pale, you're feeling sad,
                         Come, tell me, are you ill?
            When last we met your eyes shone clear and bright,
            Come go along with me, Madge, the change will do you good.
                         Your Mother wonders where you are tonight."
     
           "I long to see them all again, but not just yet," she said.
                         "'Tis pride alone that's keeping me away,
        Just tell them not to worry for I'm all right, don't you know,
                         Tell Mother dear I'm coming home someday."
     
     
               Learned from her husband, Caleb Johnson Burton, before 1900. The sequel to this song follows on the next page.
     
                                             96
     
            You have all heard the story of the girl that ran away
            And how she met her schoolmate in a village far away.
            "Just tell them that you saw me," was all the maiden said
            One day she got a letter from her schoolmate, and it read:
     
     
                         Chorus:
       "I told them that I saw you, and they want you to come home,
       Their hearts are aching for you, while far away you roam.
       The old folks still adore you, and they soon from us must part,
       So come home, Madge, before you break your dear old                                   
                         mother's heart."
     
       Then came the thoughts of childhood in the girl once bright                            
                         and gay,
       She seemed to see her mother in a village far away.
She thought of the happy school days, and the life she should have led,
       And then she sobbed, and there a tear fell on the lines,                                    
                         which read:
     
                         (Chorus.)
     
               Learned from her husband, Caleb Johnson Burton, before 1900. The original song, "Madge," appears on the previous page.
          
     
     
                                    97
     
                         THE LITTLE GIRLS IN BLUE
     
                         An old man gazed on a photograph
                         In a locket he'd worn for years
                         His nephew asked him the reason why
                         This picture had caused him tears.
     
                 If you'll listen a while, my lad, I will tell you
                         A story both strange and true
                         Your father and I at school one day
                         Met two little girls in blue.
          
                         Chorus:
                         Two little girls in blue, boys
                         Two little girls in blue
                         They were sisters, we were brothers
                         And we learned to love the two.
                         One little girl in blue, boys
                         Won your father's heart,
                         Became your mother, I married the other,
                         But we have drifted apart.
     
                         This picture is one of the girls in blue
                         To me she was once a wife
                 I thought her unfaithful, we quarreled, my lad,
                         And we parted that night for life.
     
                         My fancy of jealousy wrung her heart
                         A heart that was good and true
                         For two better girls never lived
                         Than those two little girls in blue.
     
               Learned from her husband, Caleb Johnson Burton. Popular about 1900. Interesting, because George Burton and his brother Caleb Johnson Burton married Mary Ransom and her sister Agnes Amelia Ransom, respectively.
     
     
     
     
                                    98
     
                           FOR OLD TIME'S SAKE
     
                         You ask me why upon my breast
                         I wear this photograph
                         You ask me why my hair has turned to gray.
     
                         I was a village country lad
                         She was a city belle
                         I worshiped her, my queen both night and day
     
                         Until a city stranger wooed
                         And won her honest love
                         Won her, just her gentle heart to break.
     
                         He left her many years ago,
                         I sought her out by chance
                         And I kissed her, just for old time's sake.
     
                         Chorus:
                         Just for old time's sake
                         I told her that I loved her
                         Just f