RAILROAD AND WORK GANGS
BOLSUM BROWN
POOR PADDY WORKS ON THE RAILWAY
THE RAILROAD CARS ARE COMING
JERRY, GO AN' ILE THAT CAR
IF I DIE A RAILROAD MAN
CAP'N I BELIEVE
JAY GOULD'S DAUGHTER AND ON THE CHARLIE SO LONG .
CASEY JONES
MAMA HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS?
DON' LET YO' WATCH RUN DOWN
THERE'S MANY A MAN KILLED ON THE RAILROAD .
SHE'LL BE COMIN' ROUND THE MOUNTAIN
I WENT DOWN TO THE DEPOT
EVER SINCE UNCLE JOHN HENRY BEEN DEAD
GO 'WAY F'OM MAH WINDOW
MY LULU
THE WIND IT BLEW UP THE RAILROAD TRACK
HOG-EYE
MY SISTER SHE WORKS IN A LAUNDRY
I FOUND A HORSE SHOE
RAILROAD BILL
HANGMAN
TIMBER
HARMONIZATIONS BY Marion Lychenheim, Leo Sowerby, Henry Francis Parks, Arthur Faneell, Hazel Felman, Henry Joslyn and Alfred G. Wathall.
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The wish to gather and preserve popular song may be viewed as accompanying or growing out of the trend toward democracy. It parallels for literary history the change taking place in the history of society in general. Since the eighteenth century the attention of political thinkers has descended through the various strata of society until the lowest strata are now in the foreground of interest. It has often been pointed out that contemporary historians endeavor to chronicle the common man as well as the hero. The lowly may now serve as central characters in fiction and drama which were once concerned solely with patricians. Similarly, the interest of literary historians and of students and readers has extended downward from the masterpiece till it embraces the humble and unrecorded literature of the folk.
LOUISE POUND in American Songs and Ballads.
BOLSUM BROWN
Who he was, this Bolsum Brown, and who she was, the Sister Mary referred to, we do not know. And nobody cares. But the song passes the time among the jxxiple who work for a living.
Arr. M. L.
There's a red light on the track for Bolsum Brown,
For Bolsum Bro'wn, for Bolsum Brown.
There's a red light on the track, and it'll be there when he comes back,
There's a red light on the track for Bol - sum Brown.
1 There's a red light on the track for Bolsum
2 Hop along, Sister Mary, hop along,
Brown, Hop along, hop along.
For Bolsum Brown, for Bolsum Brown.
There's a red light on the track,
There's a red light on the track,
And it'll be there when he comes back.
And it'll be there when he comes back.
There's a red light on the track for Bolsum Brown.
There's a red light on the track for Bolsum Brown.
POOR PADDY WORKS ON THE RAILWAY
Gangs of pick and shovel men from Ireland made the dirt and gravel fly in the years named in this song, as they were building the many little stub line railroads that were later connected into trunk lines. Emerson wrote then, "The poor Irishman a wheelbarrow is his country." It is a considerable song and has been widely sung and known since its publication in sheet music in the early 1850's. Since then, too, the Irish have had a high percentage of railway executives; they have a faculty for railroading.
Arr. L. S.
[music]
POOR PADDY WORKS ON THE RAILWAY
1 Oh in eighteen hundred and forty-one
My corduroy britches I put on,
My corduroy britches I put on,
To work upon the railway, the railway,
I'm weary of the railway;
Oh poor Paddy works on the railway!
2 Oh in eighteen hundred and forty-two
I did not know what I should do,
I did not know what I should do,
To work upon the railway, the railway,
I'm weary of the railway;
Oh poor Paddy works on the railway !
3. Oh in eighteen hundred and forty-three
I sailed away across the sea,
I sailed away across the sea,
To work upon the railway, the railway,
I'm weary of the railway;
Oh poor Paddy works on the railway!
4 Oh in eighteen hundred and forty-four
I landed on Columbia's shore,
I landed on Columbia's shore,
To work upon the railway, the railway,
I'm weary of the railway;
Oh poor Paddy works on the railway!
5 Oh in eighteen hundred and forty-five
When Daniel O'Connell he was alive,
When Daniel O'Connell he was alive,
To work upon the railway, the railway,
I'm weary of the railway;
Oh poor Paddy works on the railway!
6 Oh in eighteen hundred and forty-six
I changed my trade to carrying bricks,
I changed my trade to carrying bricks,
From working on the railway, the railway,
I was weary of the railway;
Oh poor Paddy worked on the railway!
7 Oh in eighteen hundred and forty-seven
Poor Paddy was thinking of going to Heaven,
Poor Paddy was thinking of going to Heaven,
After working on the railway, the railway,
He was weary of the railway;
Oh poor Paddy worked on the railway!
THE RAILROAD CARS ARE COMING
Federal government experiments with camels in the 1850's were no go. The hope was that caravans of dromedaries might carry freight traffic from New Orleans to the west coast. . . . Horse, mule, burro, were good overland freighters. But the box car was better; it gave cruel desert spaces a friendly and human look. ... As the work gangs spiked rails to ties and the eastern and western gangs came closer, this song arose, one verse with jubilation, one with laughter at the prairie dog, the rattlesnake and owl having their dominion of the desert interrupted. . . . We have this text and tune from Margery K. Forsythe of Chicago, who learned it from her pioneer mother.
Arr. H. F. P.
[music]
THE RAILROAD CARS ARE COMING
The rail - road cars are com-ing, hum-ming
Through New Mex - i - co.
The great Pacific railway,
For California hail!
Bring on the locomotive,
Lay down the iron rail;
Across the rolling prairies
By steam we're bound to go,
The railroad cars are coming, humming
Through New Mexico,
The railroad cars are coming, humming
Through New Mexico.
The little dogs in dog-town
Will wag each little tail;
They'll think that something's coming
A-riding on a rail.
The rattle-snake will show its fangs,
The owl tu-whit, tu-who,
The railroad cars are coming, humming
Through New Mexico,
The railroad cars are coming, humming
Through New Mexico.
JERRY, GO AN' ILE THAT CAR
In 1884 Charles Lummis heard Gunnysack Riley sing this at Albuquerque, New Mexico- Later, as an editor, he wanted the verses and put the matter up to Santa Fe railroad officials, who sent out a general order covering the whole system, calling for verses to Jerry Go An' De That Car. A lost song was dug up. ... Of the text here, Lumrais says, "The words are pretty nearly conclusive, but any one who can round them out will do service to history." , . . The tune is given as notated by Arthur Farwell from Charles Lummis as learned from Gunnysack Riley.
Arr. A. F
[music]
JERRY, GO AN' ILE THAT CAR
1 Come all ye railroad section men,
An' listen to my song;
It is of Larry O'Sullivan,
Who now is dead and gone.
For twinty years a section boss,
He niver hired a tar
Oh, it's " j'int ahead and cinter back,
An* Jerry, go an' ile that car-r-r!"
2 For twinty years a section boss
He worked upon the track,
And be it to his cred-i-it,
He niver had a wrack,
For he kept every j'int right up to the p'int
Wid the tap of the tampin'-bar-r;
And while the byes was a-shimmin' up the tics,
It's "Jerry, wud yez ile that car-r-r !"
3 God rest ye, Larry O'Sullivan,
To me ye were kind an' good;
Ye always made the section men
Go out and chop me wood;
An' fetch me wather from the well,
An' cut the kindlin' fine;
And anny man that wudn't lind a han'
Twos Larry'd give him his Time.
4 And ivery Sunday marni-i-ing
Unto the gang he'd say:
"Me byes, prepare yez be aware
The ould lady goes to church the day.
Now I want ivery man to pump the best that
For the distance it is far-r-r; (he can,
An' we have to get in ahead of Number 10
So, Jerry, go an' ile that car-r-r!"
5 Twas in November, in the winter time,
An' the ground all covered wid snow,
"Come, putt the hand-car-r on the track,
An* over the section go!"
Wid his big sojer coat buttoned up to his t'roat
All weathers he wud dare -
An' it's "Paddy Mack, will yez walk the track,
An* Jerry, go an* ile that car-r-r!"
6 "Give ray rispicts to the Roadmas-ther,"
Poor Larry he did cry,
"And lave me up, that I may see
The ould hand-car-r before I die.
Then lay the spike-maul upon his chist,
The gauge an' the ould claw-bar-r,
And while the byes do be fillin' up the grave,
Oh, Jerry, go and ile that car-r-r!"
IF I DIE A RAILROAD MAN
O Lord, let it rain,
Wet my little dress!
So that corn will be cheaper
Arid I can fill my belly!
This translation from hieroglyphics on an ancient Egyptian temple is among the oldest known songs of working people. It is not a far cry from such lines to the replies of a witness before the industrial relations commission, who told the commission's examiner, Frank P. Walsh, that he and other railroad men had at a certain time been "sitting and talking." "What were you talking about?" "Oh, just railroad talk." "Anything particular in railroad talk." "No, just railroad talk." "Well, could you tell us just what you mean by railroad talk?" "Oh whiskey and women and higher wages and shorter hours.". . . . The lyric here is a white and negro blend in its making; it was heard at the University of Kentucky; the young man who sang it said the notes are sometimes "blued" and it is then called The Louisville & Nashville Blues.
Arr. H. F.
1 They took John Henry to the steep hillside;
He looked to the heaven above.
He says: "Take my hammer and wrap it in gold
And give it to the girl I love,
And give it to the girl I love.
"If I die a railroad man,
Go bury me under the tie,
So I ran hear old No. 4
As she goes rolling by,
As she goes rolling by.
8 "If I die a railroad man,
Go bury me under the sand,
With a pick and a shovel at my head and feet,
And a nine-pound hammer in my hand,
And a nine-pound hammer in my hand."
CAP'N, I BELIEVE
When Tubman K. Hedrick, poet and philosopher, was a water boy on a building construction job in a Texas town, he heard negroes, going up a ladder with hods of mortar, chanting "Cap'n, I believe" to the bricklayers above who replied as our text indicates. It reminds us of one Pat who told one Mike, "All I do is carry the bricks up the ladder the man on top does all the work."
Cap'n, be - lieve, Cap'n, I be - lieve, Cap'n, I be lieve,
be-lieve, be-lieve I'll die. "Oh, no, you ain't gon-na die.
Come on with that mo-tah!" Cap'n, etc.
JAY GOULD'S DAUGHTER and ON THE CHARLIE SO LONG
The Goulds arid the Vanderbilts were big names in railroading in the 1880's. Daughters in
both families found their way into railroad and hobo songs. . . . The "blind** baggage car, with
a platform but no front door, hooked on just back of the engine tender, was a place bums rode;
engine crews sometimes gave them hot water. . . .Srnoke, dust, gravel, get into the nose and eyes,
and grind into the skin of those riding the rods under a box car or in the trucks of a passenger coach;
loosening a hold or going to sleep means death. . . . The same tune goes for Jay Gould's daughter
and that train wreck ballad On The Charlie So Long (B). Both texts are from the collection of
John Lomax while the tune is from the singing of Mrs. Lomax.
Rather fast
Arr. H. F.
JAY GOULD'S DAUGHTER
1 On a Monday mornin' it began to rain;
Aroun' the bend come a passenger train.
On the bumpers was a hobo John;
He's a good old hobo, but he's dead and gone.
Dead and gone, dead and gone,
He's a good old hobo, but he's dead and gone.
2 Charley Snyder was a good engineer,
He told his fireman not to fear,
All he needed was water and coal ;
Put your head out the window, see the drivers roll,
See the drivers roll, see the drivers roll.
Put your head out the window, see the drivers roll.
Jay Gould's daughter said before she died:
"There's one more road I'd like to ride."
"Tell me, daughter, what can it be?"
"It's in southern California on the Santa Fe,
On the Santa Fe, on the Santa Fe,
It's in southern California on the Santa Fe."
Jay Gould's daughter said before she died,
"Father, fix the blind so the bums can't ride;
If ride they must, let them ride the rod,
Let 'em put their trust in the hands of God,
In the hands of Go<i in the hands of God,
Let 'em put their trust in the hands of God."
ON THE CHARLIE SO LONG
1 On a Monday morning it began to rain,
Around the bend come a passenger train;
On the bumpers was an old Jimrnie Jones,
He's a good old porter but he's dead and gone;
Dead and gone, dead and gone,
'Case he been on the Charlie so long.
2 Joseph Mickle was a good engineer,
Told the fireman never to fear;
All he wanted was to get her good and hot,
"We'll make Paris 'bout four o'clock,
'Bout four o'clock, 'bout four o'clock,
'Case we been on the Charlie so long."
3 When we got within a mile of the place,
Number One stared us right in the face;
The conductor pulled his watch, and mumbled
and said,
" We may make it but we'll all be dead,
We'll all be dead, we'll all be dead,
'Case we been on the Charlie so long.
4 As the two locomotives was about to bump,
The fireman prepared to make his jump;
The engineer blowed the whistle, and the fire-
man bawled,
" Please, Mr. Conductor, won't you save us all?
Won't you save us all? Won't you save us all?
'Case you been on the Charlie so long."
5 O you ought to been there for to see the sight,
Screaming and yelling, both colored and white;
Some were crippled and some were lame,
And the six-wheel driver had to bear the blame,
Had to bear the blame, had to bear the
'Case he been on the Charlie so long, [blame,
6 O ain't it a pity, ain't it a shame?
The six-wheel driver had to bear the blame.
Some were crippled, and some were lame,
And the six-wheel driver had to bear the blame,
Had to bear the blame, had to bear the
'Case he been on the Charlie so long, [blame,
365
CASEY JONES 1
At Dodge City, Kan Has, in the Santa Fe railway station grass and flower plot, stands a plain
memorial, a wooden i>ost painted white with the reminder in black letters: Lest We Forget.
Fastened to the post is an old time, cast-iron Link-and-Pin, the slaughterer, the crepe hanger, the
maker of one-arrned men peddling lead pencils on payday night, the predecessor of the beneficent
Safety Coupler. . . . The laughter of the railroad man at death and mutilation runs through many
of his songs. The promise of a wooden kimono, a six foot bungalow, is with him on every trip
whether he's on a regular run or the extra list, and no matter what his seniority. . . . Verses sung
by railroad men were printed in that remarkably American j>eriodical, The Railroad Man's Maga-
zine, under the editorship of Robert Davis. . . . Then came the sheet music version, widely popular.
Lumberjacks, college girls, aviators, and doughboys, have made versions of their own. . . . Songs
are like [>eople, animals, plants. They have genealogies, pedigrees, thoroughbreds, cross-breeds,
mongrels, strays, and often a strange love-child. . . . The Casey Jones song may stem from several
earlier pieces that have the same gait, freckles, disposition, color of hair and eyes. Among such
earlier pieces are Brady Why Didn't You Run?, Jay Gould's Daughter, On The Charlie So Long,
Vanderbilt's Daughter, Mama Have You Heard the News? and all the earlier known songs in which
figure Casey Jones, K. C. Jones, David Jones, and still other Joneses. . . . Two melodies are
presented here. One is the traditional Casey Jones, the other (B) is the lesser known Mama Have
You Heard the News? Some verses of the two songs are as interchangeable as standard box cars;
others are narrow gauge and dinky. The second tune (B) is one notated in Ohio by Josephine
Winston of the University of North Carolina.
Arr. R. E. K.
CASEY JONES
1 Come all you rounders, for I want you to hear,
The story of a brave engineer.
Casey Jones was the rounder's name.
On a big eight wheeler of a mighty fame.
2 Caller railed Casey 'bout half-past four,
He kissed his wife at the station door.
Climbed to the cab with the orders in his hand,
He says, "This is rny trip to the holy land."
3 Out of South Memphis yard on the fly,
Heard the fireman say, "You got a white eye."
Well, the switchmen knew by the engine moan
That the man at the throttle was Casey Jones.
4 The rain was com in* down five or six weeks.
The railroad track was like the bed of a creek.
They slowed her down to a thirty mile gait
And the south-bound mail was eight hours late.
5 Fireman says, "Casey, you're runnin' too fast,
You run that block board the last station you passed/*
Casey says, "I believe we'll make it though,
For she steams a lot better than I ever know."
6 Casey says, "Fireman, don't you fret,
Keep knockin' at the fire door, don't give up yet,
I'm going to run her till she leaves the rail,
Or make it on time with the south -bound mail."
7 Around the curve and down the dump,
Two locomotives was a bound to jump,
Fireman hollered, "Casey, it's just ahead,
We might jump and make it but we'll all be dead."
8 Around the curve comes a passenger train,
Casey blows the whistle, tells the fireman, "Ring the bell/*
Fireman jumps and says "Good-by,
Casey Jones, You're bound to die."
9 Well Casey Jones was all right.
He stuck to his duty day and night.
They loved his whistle and his ring number three,
And he came into Memphis on the old I. C.
10 Fireman goes down the depot track,
Begging his honey to take him back,
She says, "Oranges on the table, peaches on the shelf,
You're a goin' to get tired sleepin' by yourself."
11 Mrs. Casey Jones was a sittin* on the bed.
Telegram comes that Casey is dead.
She says, "Children, go to bed, and hush your cryin',
'Cause you got another papa on the Frisco line."
12 Headaches and heartaches and all kinds of pain.
They ain't apart from a railroad train.
Stories of brave men, noble and grand,
Belong to the life of a railroad man.
MAMA HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS?
Arr. H. G.
MAMA HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS?
1 Mama, mama, mama have you heard the news?
Daddy got killed on the C-B-and Q's.
Shut your eyes and hold your breath,
We'll all draw a pension upon papa's death.
Upon papa's death, upon papa's death,
We will all draw a pension upon papa's death.
Early in the morning when it looked like rain
Around the curve came a gravel train;
On the train was Casey Jones,
He's a good old rounder but he's dead and gone,
But he's dead and gone, he's dead and gone,
He's a good old rounder but he's dead and gone.
3 All the way by the last board he passed,
Thirty-five minutes late with the U. S. mail,
Casey Jones to his fireman said,
"We'll make it into Canton or leave the rail,
Or leave the rail, or leave the rail,
We'll make it into Canton or leave the rail."
4 When Casey's family heard of his death
Casey's daughter fell on her knees,
"Mama, mama, how can it be
Papa got killed on the old I. C.?"
"O hush your mouth and hold your breath,
"We'll all draw a pension from Casey's death.*'
DON' LET YO' WATCH RUN DOWN
The toiling negro on railroad, levee, dump, his knees in mud, and thinking of his "luluh", begs
cap'n (boss or gang foreman) to have the time of day correct. . . . " Workin' " may be "wukhin ' ".
"Haist" means "hoist." Third verse lines with dialect out would read:
When you see me coming
Hoist your windows high;
When you see me leaving
Hang down your heads and cry,
Brownskins,
Hang down your heads and cry.
We have this text and tune from a notable treatise on South Texas Negro Work-Songs by Gates Thomas in No. 5 of Publications of the Texas Folk Lore Society.
1 Don' let yo' watch run down, Cap'n, 2 Don* let yo' watch run down, Cap'n,
Don* let yo' watch run down. Don* let yo' watch run down.
Workin' on de levee, dollar 'n half a day, Workin' on de railroad, mud up to my knees,
Workin' for my hiluh, gettin* mo* dan pay, Workin' for my luluh, she's a hard ole gal to
Cap'n,
Gettin' mo* dan pay.
please, Cap'n,
She's a hard ole gal to please.
3 Don' let yo' watch run down, Cap'n,
Don' let yo' watch run down.
When you see me comin* haist yo' windo's high,
When you see me leavin' hang down yo' heads an* cry, brownskins,
Hang down yo' heads an* cry.
THERE'S MANY A MAN KILLED ON THE RAILROAD
The crying out loud is heard here; over smash-ups, head-on collisions, cow-catchers telescoped in cabooses, the iron horse meeting a broken rail and taking a tumble down an enbankment, the undertakers' harvest that came after someone was asleep at the switch the crying out loud is heard here. ... It is the landlubber brother of the sailor windlass song A Hundred Years Is A
Very Long Time. . . . The prolonged repetitions of the word "r-a-M-r-o-a-d" go with a crying out loud.
Arr. H. F.
There's many a man killed on the railroad, railroad, railroad,
There's many a man killed on the railroad,
An' cast in a lonely grave.
SHE'LL BE COMIN' ROUND THE MOUNTAIN
An old-time negro spiritual When the Chariot Comes (B) was made by mountaineers into Shell Be Comin' Round the Mountain, and the song spread to railroad work gangs in the midwest in the 1890's.
Arr. H. F.
SHE'LL BE COMIN' ROUND THE MOUNTAIN
1 She'll be comin' round the mountain,
When she comes.
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
When she comes.
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
She'll be comin' round the mountain,
When she comes.
Shell be drivin' six white horses,
When she comes.
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
When she comes.
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
She'll be drivin' six white horses,
When she comes.
3 Oh we'll all go to meet her,
When she comes.
Oh we'll all go to meet her,
When she comes.
We will kill the old red rooster,
We will kill the old red rooster,
And we'll all have chicken and dumplin',
When she comes.
B
1 O, who will drive the chariot when she comes?
O, who will drive the chariot when she comes?
O, who will drive the chariot, O who will drive the chariot,
O, who will drive the chariot when she comes?
2 King Jesus, he'll be driver when she comes,
3 She'll be loaded with bright angels,
4 She will neither rock nor totter,
5 She will run so level and steady,
6 She will take us to the portals.
I WENT DOWN TO THE DEPOT
This is the negro version of the Jesse James ballad, as heard by Charles Rockwood in work gangs of the south.
Arr. M. L.
I WENT DOWN TO THE DEPOT
1 I went down to the depot, not many nights ago,
And there I done something I never done before.
I got down on my knees
And delivered up the keys
To Frank and his brother Jesse James.
Po' Jesse James, po' Jesse James,
I'll never see my Jesse any more;
'Twas a dirty little coward
He shot Mister Howard
An' laid Jesse James in his grave.
Jesse James was a man and he had a robber band,
And he flagged down the east bound train.
Robert Ford watched his eye,
And he shot him on the sly,
And they laid Jesse James in his grave.
Po' Jesse James, po' Jesse James
I'll never see my Jesse any more.
'Twas a dirty little coward
That shot Mister Howard
And laid Jesse James in his grave.
3 Jesse James* little wife was a moaner all her life
When they laid Jesse James in his grave.
She earned her daily bread
By her needle and her thread
When they laid Jesse James in his grave.
Po' Jesse James, po' Jesse James,
I'll never see my Jesse any more.
Robert Ford's pistol ball
Brought him tumbling from the wall
And laid Jesse James in his grave.
EVER SINCE UNCLE JOHN HENRY BEEN DEAD
This, as sung on western railroads, probably derives from the famous John Henry ballad. It may be sung with pick and shovel motions for the tamping of railroad ties or the swings of a hammer breaking hard rock, "ever since" for one stroke, "Uncle John" with another stroke, "Henry been" once more, "dead" once more, and so on.
Arr. H. F.
Ever since Uncle John Henry been dead
All of the women are wearin red.
Dis yere hammer, nine-pound hammer.
Kill mah partner, kill John Henry,
Kill him dead.
GO 'WAY FOM MAH WINDOW
This negro woodchopper's song came up from Arkansas and the Ozarks to Tubman K. Hedrick,
author of "The Orientations of Hohen," when he was a newspaperman in Memphis, Tennessee.
. . , Phrases of it time with ax-strokes. "Go 'way" sinks the ax, "f'om my window" sinks it
again, and so on.
Arr. L. S.
Moderately flow
1 Go Vay f'om mah window,
Go 'way f'om mah doh,
Go 'way f'om mah bedside,
Don' you tease me no mo'.
Go Vay in de springtime,
Come back in de fall,
Bring you back mo' money
Dan we bofe can haul.
MY LULU
Cowboys, loggers, pick and shovel stiffs, leathernecks, scissorbills, bootleggers, beer runners, hijackers, traveling men, plasterers, paperhangers, bogheads, tallowpots, snakes and stingers, and many men who carry gadgets and put on gaskets, have different kinds of verses about Lulu. Since the Chicago fire, the St. Louis cyclone and the Chatsworth wreck, she is the most sung about female character in American singing. We present nine of the nine hundred verses.
Arr. A. G. W.
MY LULU
1 My Lulu hugged and kissed me,
She wrung my hand and cried,
She said I was the sweetest thing
That ever lived or died.
2 My Lulu's tall and slender,
My Lulu gal's tall and slim;
But the only thing that satisfies her
Is a good big drink of gin.
3 If you go monkey with my Lulu gal
I'll tell you what I'll do,
I'll carve your heart out with my razor,
I'll shoot you with my pistol, too.
4 My Lulu gal's a daisy,
She wears a big white hat;
I bet your life when I'm in town
The dudes all hit the flat.
5 I ain't goin' to work on the railroad,
I ain't goin' to lie in jail,
But I'm goin' down to Cheyenne town
To live with my Lulu gal.
6 My Lulu, she's an angel,
Only she aint got no wings.
I guess I'll get her a wedding ring,
When the grass gets green next spring.
7 My Lulu, she's a dandy,
She stands and drinks like a man,
She calls for gin and brandy,
And she doesn't give a damn.
8 Engineer hlowed the whistle,
Fireman rang the bell,
Lulu, in a pink kimona
Says, "Baby, oh fare thee well."
9 I seen my Lulu in the springtime,
I seen her in the fall;
She wrote me a letter in the winter time,
Says, "Good-by, honey," that's all.
THE WIND IT BLEW UP THE RAILROAD TRACK
This is for cold weather, around the stove in the switch shanty.
The wind it blew up the railroad track,
It blew, it blew,
The wind it blew up the railroad track,
It blew, it blew;
The wind it blew up the railroad track,
It blew way up and half way back,
And the wind it blew,
Holy Jiminy! how it blew!
HOG-EYE
A lusty and lustful song developed by negroes of South Carolina, who had it from sailors originally, is Hog-Eye. In themes it is primitive, anatomical, fierce of breath, aboriginal rather than original. One lone verse, passing any censor, is presented, with a tune notated by Julia Peterkin.
Air. A. G. W.
Hog-eye gal am a debbil of a gal.
What de debbil ail 'em?
'E drinked a pint ob' butter-milk
An swear, by gosh, it killed 'em!
Ro-ly-bo-ly sho-ly hog-eye!
Ro-ly-bo-ly sho-ly hog-eye!
MY SISTER SHE WORKS IN A LAUNDRY
This is a bitter ditty of low life, a rhyme of things beyond statistics, epitomized autobiography wondering what it is laughing at.
Arr. H. F.
My sister she works in a laundry,
My father he fiddles for gin,
My mother she takes in washing,
My God, how the money rolls in.
I FOUND A HORSESHOE
Railroad switchmen at Illinois and Iowa division points sang this on nights in the 1890's when their gloves froze to the coupling pins between coal cars, and it was fun to reach a shanty stove. . . . Paperhangers, icewugon drivers, hash slingers and short order cooks have joined up and sung it on summer evenings for good people gathered under the Chinese lanterns of a lawn sociable, with ice cream served by the Ladies' Aid Society. . . . Henry Joslyn sets it here as a four-part piece for quartets.
Arr: H. J.
I FOUND A HORSESHOE
1 I found a horseshoe, I found a horseshoe.
I picked it up and nailed it on the door;
And it was rusty and full of nail holes,
Good luck 'twill bring to you forevermore.
2 The man who owned the horse he lived in New York,
The man who owned the horse he lived in New York,
The man who owned the horse,
The man who owned the horse,
The man who owned the horse he lived in New York.
3 The horse that wore the shoe his name was Mike,
The horse that wore the shoe his name was Mike,
The horse that wore the shoe,
The horse that wore the shoe,
The horse that wore the shoe his name was Mike.
RAILROAD BILL
Whereas John Henry was strong at driving steel and was a kindly family man, Railroad Bill is fierce and deep in sin and cussedness, "a mighty bad man." He carries mean hardware, steals the wives of rnen, and is a man-killer with the police after him. . . . There was an actual Railroad Bill who shot to kill and was feared and hunted. Southern negro work gangs have fixed him in a ballad of hundreds of lines. . . . The verses couple onto each other like fast mail coaches. Singers hesitate nowhere and stride through this with the clip of a non-stop train.
Arr. A. G. W.
RAILROAD BILL
1 Railroad Bill, Railroad Bill,
He never work and he never will;
Well, it's bad Railroad Bill.
Railroad Bill, Railroad Bill,
Took ev'thing that the farmer had;
That bad Railroad Bill.
3 Railroad Bill had no wife,
Always looking for somebody's wife;
Then it's ride, ride, ride.
4 Kill me a chicken, send me the wing,
They think I'm working but I ain't done a thing ;
Then it's ride, ride, ride.
5 Railroad Bill, mighty bad man,
Shoot the lantern out the brake man's han',
Bad Railroad Bill.
6 Railroad Bill, desp'rate an' bad,
Take ev'thing po* women's had;
Then it's ride, ride, ride.
7 Railroad Bill, coming home soon,
Killed MacMillan by the light o* the moon;
Then it's ride, ride, ride.
8 MacMillan had a special train,
When he got there it was spring,
Well, it's ride, ride, ride.
9 Two policemen, dressed in blue,
Come down the street in two and two;
Well, it's looking for Railroad Bill
10 Ev'body tol' him he better turn back.
Bill was a-going down the railroad track;
Well, it's ride, ride, ride.
HANGMAN
As they sang in that Santa Fe smoker in Texas, I did not ask them why they joked about being in jail in Oklahoma nor why they enlisted in the regular army. They wore bib overalls, their hands were acquainted with shovels, and they told Lengthy, a Tennessee boy, to sing this or they would knock his block off.
Arr. A. G. W.
1. Hangman, hangman, slack up on your rope,
Sweetheart, sweetheart, can you give me any hope?
You've broke a heart a-many a time;
But you'll never break this heart of mine.
2 Hangman, hangman, slack up on your rope,
Sister, sister, can they give me any hope?
She broke a heart a-many a time;
She'll never break this heart of mine.
TIMBER
An old negro on an Indiana farm near Porter had sung many spirituals and was asked, "Did you ever make up a song while working with other workers on a job?" He said that near Lynchburg, Virginia, when he was young they were cutting down timbers and hauling to a building under construction, and they made a hundred verses to this tune. ... In his notable series of
articles in the New York Times on "Folk Songs of America/' R. W. Gordon says of work chanteys,
"The solo lines arc sung by one man, a leader or 'foresinger,' and the crowd joins in on the refrain.
The task may l>e one that calls for a series of heavy pulls on a rope or of successive heaves when
moving a heavy piece of timber. ... A song often used on the docks is composed out of fragments
loosely strung together. Tomorrow, or at a different task, it will be sung differently. Local allusions
may at any time be introduced, but the tune and the refrain will remain the same. The very
looseness of form in these work chanteys gives the leader a wonderful opportunity for directing
the work without seeming to do so. If he is clever he will take advantage of many facts. To keep
his men working steadily over long periods without feeling fatigue, he will choose a song that seems
endlessly monotonous and count on its hypnotic power. Whenever a specially heavy heave is
needed he will introduce a humorous verso or one that will appeal to the imagination of the men.
Unconsciously, they will shout the refrain louder and at the same time pull harder. A good leader
will always be careful to choose a song fitted to the task, one that has just the proper resting period
in proportion to the frequency arid the strength of the required pulls. He will pick a slow rhythm
for continued work, a quirk one for a sudden burst of energy." ... In the following work chantey
the singers took turns improvising solo lines, the group joining in on "Hallelujah, I don't know."
Arr. A. G. W.
1 We are trying to carry this timber to the building.
Hallelujah, I don't know.
2 We will make doors and windows in that building.
Hallelujah, I don't know.
3 We will build it to the glory of the Lord.
Hallelujah, I don't know.