FIVE WARS
HARMONIZATION BY
PAGE
THE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY OR HALF HORSE AND HALF
ALLN
JACKSON
POOR KIT
THERE W
A FILJPIN
THE SERG
WRAP ME UP IN MY TARPAULIN JACKET AND THE HAND-
SOME YOUNG AIRMAN
A WAR BIRD'S BURLESQUE
HINKY DINKY, PARLEE-VOO
WHERE THEY WERE
THE HEARSE SONG
MTOR
. . . Alfred G. Wathatt . .
. Alfred G. Waihatt .
. 4*7
. 430
Y POPCORN
. 431
S AN OLD SOLDIER
> HOMBRE
Ruth Crawford
Alfred G. Wathall .
. 43S
. 434
OANT, HE IS THE WORST OF ALL
, . 435
Alfred G. WathaU
Alfred G. Watiiatt
430
488
440
442
444
425
THE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY or HALF HORSE
AND HALF ALLIGATOR
These verses done in the style of polite poetry were first sung to the air of Miss Baily. They
were written by Samuel Wood worth, and published in 1820 by James M. Campbell in a book, Mel-
odies, Duets, Trios, Songs, and Ballads. Under the title of Hunters of Kentucky, or Half Horse and
Half Alligator, the song was published in Boston as a broadside. In singing, the pronunciation
"Kaintucky" seems to be preferred to that of "Kentucky" among those who have perpetuated the
song. It has been heard among the mountaineers and cowboys; Franz Rickaby found it among
lumberjacks, and the air here is from the singing of George M. Hankins of Gordon, Wisconsin, as
notated by Rickaby. The text is from a broadside in the Congressional Library, Washington, D. C.
Arr. A. G. W.
3
Ye gen - tie - men and la - dies fair, Who grace this fa - mous cit - y, Just
mf leggiero
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(con Sti. ad lib.)
THE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY
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lis - ten if you' ve time to spare, While I re -hearse a dit - ty; And
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for the op - por - tu - ni - ty Con - ceive your-selves quite luck - y, For
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'tis not of - ten that you see A hunt-er from Ken-tuck - y. Oh, Ken-tuck -y, the
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hunt - era of Ken-tuck - y ! Oh, Ken-tuck - y, the hunt - era of Ken-tuck - y !
428
THE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY
1 Ye gentlemen and ladies fair,
Who grace this famous city,
Just listen if you've time to spare,
While I rehearse a ditty;
And for the opportunity
Conceive yourselves quite lucky,
For 'tis not often that you see
A hunter from Kentucky.
Oh Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky!
Oh Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky!
2 We are a hardy, free-born race,
Each man to fear a stranger;
Whatever the game we join in chase,
Despoiling time and danger,
And if a daring foe annoys,
Whatever his strength and forces,
We'll show him that Kentucky boys
Are alligator horses.
Oh Kentucky, &c.
8 I s'pose youVe read it hi the prints,
How Packenham attempted
To make old Hickory Jackson wince,
But soon his scheme repented;
For we, with rifles ready cock'd,
Thought such occasion lucky,
And soon around the gen'ral flock'd
The hunters of Kentucky.
Oh Kentucky, &c.
4 You've heard, I s'pose how New-Orleans
Is fam'd for wealth and beauty,
There's girls of ev'ry hue it seems,
From snowy white to sooty.
So Packenham he made bis brags,
If he in fight was lucky,
He'd have their girls and cotton bags,
In spite of old Kentucky.
Oh Kentucky, &c.
6 But Jackson he was wide awake,
Aqd was not scar'd at trifles,
For well he knew what aim we take
With our Kentucky rifles.
So he led us down to Cypress swamp,
The ground was low and mucky,
There stood John Bull in martial pomp
And here was old Kentucky.
Oh Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky ! -
Oh Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky !
6 A bank was rais'd to hide our breasts,
Not that we thought of dying,
But that we always like to rest,
Unless the game is flying.
Behind it stood our little force.
None wished it to be greater,
For evVy man was half a horse,
And half an alligator.
Oh Kentucky, &c.
7 They did not let our patience tire,
Before they show'd their faces;
We did not choose to waste our fire,
So snugly kept our places.
But when so near we saw them wink,
We thought it time to stop 'em,
And 'twould have done you gocxl I think,
To see Kentuckians drop 'em.
Oh Kentucky, &c.
8 They found, at last, 'twas vain to fight,
Where lead was all the booty,
And so they wisely took to flight,
And left us all our beauty.
And now, if danger e'er annoys,
Remember what our trade is,
Just send for us Kentucky boys,
And we'll protect ye, ladies.
Oh Kentucky, &c.
429
JACKSON
On his walking trip from the Great Lakes to the Great Plains Franz Bickaby met this survivor
of the years of the War with Mexico.
AIT. A. G. W.
Hb=a
Jack - son is on sea, Jack - son is on shore, Jack-son's gone to
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Mex - i - co to fight the hat - ties o'er. " Wel-come home, my Jack - son, oh,
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wel-come home, " said she, Lust night my claught-er Ma- ry lay dream -ing of thee.
1 Jackson is on sea, Jackson is on shore,
Jackson's gone to Mexico to fight the battles o'er.
"Welcome home, my Jackson, oh welcome home," said she,
Last night my daughter Mary lay dreaming of thee.
JACKSON
2 " What news, Jackson ? " " Very poor, " says he.
"I lost all my money while crossing the sea.
Go bring your daughter Mary and get her down by me,
We'll drown our melancholy and married we will be. "
3 "Oh Mary's not at home, Jack, nor has not been to-day;
And if she was at home, Jack, she would not let you stay.
For Mary's very, very rich and you are very poor,
And if she was at home, Jack, she'd show you the door. "
4 Jackson bein' drowsy hung down his head,
He called for a candle to light him off to bed.
The l>eds are full of strangers, and have been so this week-
And now for your lodging, poor Jack, you'll have to seek.
5 Jack looked upon the strangers, upon them one and all,
He looked upon the landlady and in reckoning he did call.
Twenty shillings of the new and twenty of the old.
W r ith this Jack pulled out his two hands full of gold.
6 The sight of the money made the old woman rue:
"Mary is at home, Jack, and shell return to you.
I hope you're not in earnest, for I only spoke in jest.
Without any exception she loves you the best. "
7 Mary came downstairs with a smiling face,
First a sweet kiss, then a fond embrace:
"Oh, welcome home, my Jackson, oh welcome home, my dear.
The big beds are empty and you shall lie there. "
8 "Before I'd lie within your beds I'd lie within the street,
For when I had no money, my lodging I must seek.
But now I've plenty money I'll make the tavern hurl,
A bottle of good brandy and on each arm a girl. "
POOR KITTY POPCORN
44 A tragic little ballad of the Civil War which we children cried over many times. I recall it
only in fragments, the story of a cat that joined a regiment of soldiers marching south. She perished
in the snow on the grave of the one to whom she had become most attached. " Thus the history of
this verse from Neeta Marquis who as a girl grew up in Tennessee.
Poor Kitty Popcorn, buried in a snow drift now!
Never more we'll hear the music of her gladsome song,
"Me-o-o-o-w!"
Oh, she had a happy home beneath the Southern sky,
But she packed her goods and left it when our troops came by,
And she fell into the column with a low, glad cry,
"Me-o-o-w!"
431
THERE WAS AN OLD SOLDIER
A leading favorite of the Grand Army of the Republic, one of the healthiest survivors of the
contest between the Blue and the Gray, and a widely known piece of American folk lore.
Briskly
ATT. R. C.
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O there was an old sol-dier and he
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THERE WAS AN OLD SOLDIER
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1 O there was an old soldier and he had a wooden leg,
He had no tobacco but tobacco he could beg.
Another old soldier as sly as a fox,
He always had tobacco in his old tobacco box.
2 Said the ono old soldier, "Won't you give me a chew?"
Said the other old soldier, "I'll be hanged if I do,
Save up your pennies and put away your rocks,
And you'll always have tobacco in your old tobacco box. "
3 Well, the one old soldier was a fcelin* very bad,
He says, "I'll get even, I will, begad!"
He goes to a corner, takes a rifle from his peg,
And stabs the other soldier with a splinter from his leg.
4 There was an old hen and she had a wooden foot,
And she made her nest by a mulberry root,
And she laid more eggs than any hen on the farm;
And another wooden foot wouldn't do her any harm.
433
A FILIPINO HOMBRE
Soldiers and sailors of conquering races and nations, in all times, it seems, have had songs kidding
the language, manners, and customs, of the invaded, subjugated, and pacified races and nations. . . .
An old song with a Spanish tune opens with the lines, "I am a gay cavalierio, on my way to Rio De
Janicrio. " Verses going to that tune arose out of the Spanish-American War and the campaign in
the Philippine Islands, and they constitute the aong called A Filipino Hombre or The Philippine
Family. The Book of Navy Songs says, "It was composed and first sung by the late Captain
Lyman A. Cotten, U. S. N., about 1900, when Navy, Army and Marine Corps were busy 'pacifying'
the newly acquired Philippines. " . . .It is a rough, gay fandango. All present may join in a
shouted repeat of the last word of each verse.
Alia
Arr. A. G. W.
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There was once a Fi - li - pi - no horn - bre ....
Who ate rice pes -
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434
A FILIPINO II OMBRE
1 There was once a Filipino hombre 5 Of ninos he had dos or tres,
Who ate rice pescado y legumbre. Good types of the Tagalo race;
His trousers were wide, and his shirt hung out- In dry or wet weather, in the altogether,
And this, I may say, was costumbre. [side, They'd romp and they'd race and they'd chase.
He lived in a nipa bahay
Which served as a stable and sty;
He slept on a mat with the dogs and the cat
And the rest of the family near by.
6 Su hermana fue lavandera,
And slapped clothes in fuerte manera
On a rock in a stream where the carabaos dream,
Which gave them a perfume lijera.
8 His daddy, un buen' Filipino 7 His brother, who was a cochero,
Who never mixed tubig with bino, Buscare in Manila dinero;
Said, " I am no insurrecto no got gun or bolo, " His prices were high when a cop was near by
Yet used both to kill a vccino. To help scare the poor pasajero.
4 His mujer once kept a tienda 8 He once owned a bulic manoc
Underneath a large stone hacienda; With a haughty, valorous look
She chewed buyo and sold for jawbone and gold Which lost him a name, y mil pesos tambien,
To soldadcs who said, "No intienda. " So he changed to monte for luck.
9 When his pueblo last had a fiesta
His family tried to digest a
Mule that had died of glanders inside
And now his familia no esta.
THE SERGEANT, HE IS THE WORST OF ALL
The buck private's private opinion publicly expressed, and that ain't all.
The ser - geant, the scr - geant he is the worst of all, . . He gets us up in the
morn-ing be - fore the ear - ly call, With squads right, and squads left, and left front in to
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line; Then the slim - y son of a gun,
he gives us dou - ble time.
The sergeant, the sergeant he is the worst of all,
He gets us up in the morning before the early call,
With squads right, and squads left, and left front into line;
Then the slimy son of a gun, he gives us double tim<\
43$
WRAP ME UP IN MY TARPAULIN JACKET
and
TlfE HANDSOME YOUNG AIRMAN
One of several in the R. W. Gordon collection, this version (A) is from Frank Haworth of the
British Club, Havana, Cuba, while (B) is from Abbe Niles who comments on how landlubber songs
often are in active duty on the high seas and vice versa. "Any living tune is a jack of all trades.
This variant of Tarpaulin Jacket ten years ago on the flying fields was current among men who had
never heard its original."
Air. A. G. W.
Moderate
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Wrap me up in my tar - pau - lin jack - et And say a poor buff- er lies
low, lies low; And six stal-wart lane - ers shall car-ry me . . . . With steps mourn-ful,
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sol-onm, and slow.
I know I shan't get to Heav-en,
WRAP ME UP IN MY TARPAULIN JACKET
And I don't want to go . . . be - low - ow - ow Oh, ain't there some
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place in be - tween them .... Where this poor old buff-er can go?
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Wrap me up in my tarpaulin jacket
And say a poor buffer lies low, lies low;
And six stalwart lancers shall carry me
With steps mournful, solemn, and slow.
I know I shan't get to Heaven,
And I don't want to go below-ow-ow
Oh, ain't there some place in between them
Where this poor buffer can go?
B
A handsome young airman lay dying,
And as on the airdrome he lay,
To mechanics who 'round him came sighing
These last parting words he did say:
"Take the cylinders out of my kidneys,
The connecting rods out of my brain,
The crank-shaft out of my backbone,
And assemble the engine again. "
437
A WAR BIRD'S BURLESQUE
In that revealing and vivid diary of an unknown aviator "War Birds," we learn of a flyer whose
father was a cotton mill owner and, as the diarist tells us, "There was a bomb raid on last night and
the dugout was stuffy so he and I went out and crawled under a box car on the siding. It's about as
good shelter as you can get. We got to talking about home. . . I asked him what he wanted to do.
He said he wanted to write but his father is determined to make a horny-handed hardboiled superin-
tendent out of him. He's all the time scribbling now. He's always stopping something important
to jot down a plot, as he calls it, foi< future reference. He's got a brief case full of them already,
plays, short stories, poems, sketches or what have you. He's tried to read me some of them several
times." He lost one eye, was wounded, battered, made all sacrifices asked. In an interlude of the
program of hell and death, he had an affair "with a very charming young lady who more or less
owed allegiance to a big diplomat. We were all kidding him about it one night and after listening
awhile he retired and penned a poem on the subject. ". . . Nine of the verses are presented here with
the melody given them by Chicago overseas service men, Paul Boston and John Locke.
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ha," he cried, en - rap- hired, "that's just a - bout my style,
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hold the old come - hith - IT look, that makes the wild men wild!"
1 A portly Roman Senator was sipping his Rock and Rye,
When a classic Vestal Virgin caught his educated eye;
"Ah, ha," he cried enraptured, "that's just about my style,
Behold the old come-hither look, that makes the wild men wild.
2 The old boy was no novice, for he'd served his time in Gaul,
And he saw she was a chicken and the flapper pose a stall,
So he flashed a roll of talents and she flashed him back a smile,
And she shrugged her architecture in a manner to beguile.
438
A WAR BIRD'S BURLESQUE
3 But he had to go to Naples, where some rents were overdue,
While she lingered by the Tiber, complaining of the flu.
And no great time elapsed ere the wise ones slyly winked,
And they whispered "Habeas Corpus, " as their golden goblets clinked.
4 For it was whispered at the banquets and told o'er games of cards,
That a certain dashing Shavetail of Julius Caesar's Guards,
Was bringing home the bacon, had a latchkey to the flat,
Had soused himself in pre-war stock and was staging a terrible hat.
5 He broke the records back to Rome and arrived with a terrible shout,
But the Shavetail heard him on the stairs and escaped by the gutter spout,
The Senator surveyed his flat, with bottles everywhere,
And picked up some scattered plumage and bits of odd tinware.
6 The lady wept in anguish, but he only mocked her cries,
"I gave you rings for your fingers, now they're beneath your eyes."
The sweet young thing was cagy, she'd exported his return,
And she explained, "Semper fidelis, won't you ever learn!
7 "Dear Caesar came to see me, said Pompey's getting hot,
And the Legion's drilling badly and the Navy's gone to pot:
So to stimulate recruiting, I've been flirting with this Wop."
And she slipped her toga's shoulder strap, and displayed a fancy clock.
8 His thoughts went back to Britain, and he stroked a scarred chin,
Where an angry Celtic husband had expressed his deep chagrin.
He recalled how his upright figure and the polish his armor bore,
Had intrigued the Spanish maidens on that temperamental shore.
9 And his anger soon abating, he replaced the truant strap,
And she said, "Carpemus diem," as he gave her cheek a slap;
He patted the tousled curly locks, that on his shoulder lay,
And thought, "She's not hors de combat, 'tis part of an Officer's Pay."
489
HINKY DINKY, PARLEE-VOO
Among the American Expeditionary Forces in Europe during the world war this was a high
spot favorite, sung more often, perhaps, and with more verses, than any other song. ... It re-
sembles an English pre-war song, and also an old American ditty, Snappoo Snappoo.
Arr. A. G. W.
Alia marria
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Two Ger - man of - fi - cers crossed the Rhine, Par - - - lee - voo,
staccato
Two
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Ger - man of - fi - cers crossed the Rhine, Par - - - lee - voo,
Two
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Ger - man of - fi - cers crossed the Rhine to kiss the wom-en and drink the wine,
440
HINKY DINKY, PARLEK-VOO!
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Hin - ky din - ky, Par - - lee - - voo.
1 Two German officers crossed the Rhine, parlee-voo,
Two German officers crossed the Rhine, parlee-voo,
Two German officers crossed the Rhine
To kiss the women and drink the wine, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
2 "Oh farmer, have you a daughter fair, parlee-voo,
Oh farmer, have you a daughter fair, parlee-voo,
Oh farmer, have you a daughter fair
Who can wash a soldier's underwear, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
8 Mademoiselle from Armentieres, parlee-voo,
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, parlee-voo,
Mademoiselle from Armentieres
She ain't even heard of underwear, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
4 Mademoiselle from Armentieres, parlee-voo,
Mademoiselle from Armentieres, parlee-voo,
If you never wash your underwear
You'll never get the Croix de Guerre, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
5 Many and many a married man, parlee-voo,
Many and many a married man, parlee-voo,
Many and many a married man
Wants to go back to France again, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
6 The captain he's carrying the pack, parlee-voo,
The captain he's carrying the pack, parlee-voo,
The captain he's carrying the pack,
Hope to Lord it breaks his back, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
7 The officers get all the steak, parlee-voo,
The officers get all the steak, parlee-voo,
The officers get all the steak,
And all we get is the belly-ache, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
441
HINKY DINKY, PARLEY YOU!
8 The M. P.s say they won the war, porlee-voo,
The M. P.s say they won the war, parlee-voo,
The M. P.s say they won the war
Standing on guard at a cafe door, hinky dinky, partee-voo.
9 The little marine in love with his nurse, parlee-voo.
The little marine in love with his nurse, parlee-voo,
The little marine in love with his nurse,
He's taken her now for better or worse, hinky dinky, partee-voo.
10 Mademoiselle all dressed in white, parlee-voo,
Mademoiselle all dressed in blue, parlee-voo,
Mademoiselle all dressed in black,
'Cause her little marine he didn't come back, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
11 You might forget the gas and shell, parlee-voo,
You might forget the gas and shell, parlee-voo,
You might forget the gas and shell,
You'll never forget the mademoiselle, hinky dinky, parlee-voo.
WHERE THEY WERE
This is a little tough on the Brass Hats but they are used to it. ... The text is from Harold and
Verner Johnson of New York City.
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442
WHERE THEY WERE
CHORUS
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Up to their necks in mud,
saw them, I saw
them,
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Up to their necks in mud, I saw them, Up to their nooks in mud.
1 If you want to know where the privates were, $
I'll tell you where they were,
I'll tell you where they were,
Yes, I'll tell you where they were;
Oh, if you want to know where the privates were,
111 tell you where they were:
Up to their neoks in mud,
I saw them, I saw them,
Up to their neoks in mud, I saw them
Up to their necks in mud.
3 If you want to know where the captains were, 4
I'll tell you where they were,
I'll tell you where they were,
Yes, I'll tell you where they were;
Oh, if you want to know where the captains were,
I'll tell you where they were:
Drinking the privates* rum,
I saw them, I saw them,
Drinking the privates' rum, I saw them
Drinking the privates' rum.
If you want to know where the sergeants were,
I'll tell you where they were,
I'll tell you whore they wore,
Yes, I'll tell you whore thoy were;
Oh, if you want to know whore the sergeants
I'll tell you where they were: [were,
Clipping the old barbed-wiro,
I saw them, I saw thorn,
Clipping the old barbed-wire, I saw them
Clipping the old barbed-wire.
If you want to know where the officers were,
I'll toll you where they were,
I'll tell you where they were,
Yes, I'll tell you where they were;
Oh, if you want to know where the officers were,
I'll tell you when; they wore:
Down in their deop dugout,
I saw them, I saw them,
Down in their deep dugout, I saw them
Down in their deep dugout.
5 And if you want to know where the generals wore,
1*11 toll you whore they wore,
1*11 toll you whore thoy wore,
Yes, I'll tell you where they wore;
Oh, if you want to know whore the generals were,
I'll tell you where they were:
Back in gay Faroe,
I saw them, I saw them,
Back in gay Paree, I saw them
Back in gay Paree.
443
THE HEARSE SONG
Casualty records of the world war indicated in round numbers ten million dead and twenty
million crippled. The Hearse Song was popular in all branches of service, though in the aviation
corps it had more variants. The version (A) is from James Stevens, Irma H. Thrane and W. W.
Woodbridge of Washington, while (B) is from Jake Zeitlin of Los Angeles and Fort Worth.
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The old Grey Hearse goes roll-ing by, You don't know wheth-er to laugh or cry, For you
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know some day it - '11 get you too, And the hearse's next load may con - sist of you.
1 The old Grey Hearse goes rolling by,
You don't know whether to laugh or cry;
For you know some day it'll get you too,
And the hearse's next load may consist of you.
B
1 Did you ever think as the hearse rolls by
That some of these days you must surely die?
They'll take you away in a big black hack,
They'll take you away but won't bring you
back.
2 They '11 take you out and they '11 lower you down, 2 The men with shovels stand all around.
While men with shovels stand all a-round; They shovel you into that cold, wet ground.
They'll throw in dirt and they'll throw in rocks, They shovel in dirt and they throw in rocks.
And they won't give a dam-m-m if they break They don't give a dam if they break the box.
the box.
.8 The worms crawl in and the worms crawl out, 3 And your eyes drop out and your teeth fall in
They crawl all over your chin and mouth, And the worms crawl over your mouth and chin ;
They invite their friends and their friends' And the worms crawl out and the worms crawl
friends too, in
And you look like hell when they're through And your limbs drop off of you limb by limb.
with you.
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