CHAPTER X
FOLK MINSTREL TYPES
One of the most interesting of all the Negro's
secular songs is the folk minstrel type. This minstrel
song is similar to the original minstrel, in which one or
more wandering musicians and songsters travel from
place to place rendering song and music with varied
accompaniments. Sometimes one singer goes alone,
sometimes two, sometimes a quartette. They are
entertainers in the real sense that they exhibit them-
selves and their art with all the naturalness and spon-
taneity possible. Furthermore, such minstrels are
not infrequently ingenious in composing new verses
and adapting them to old tunes or to newly discovered
ones. Such songs are also well adapted to social
gatherings and to various special occasions. They
should be distinguished from the black-face type of
vaudeville song and the minstrel show, although of
course the song of the traveling show must inevitably
influence the minstrel type a great deal. For sheer
type-portraiture, however, the minstrel Negro and his
song must undoubtedly be presented if the whole
picture is to be complete.
Typical scenes are the singing on special gala
occasions, such as fairs, holidays, and picnics, at
resorts of the whites, on the road or on street corners.
Such singers also accompany many a patent-medicine
man or other street-corner vender of wares. Sung
in this way, of course, are many of the ordinary
secular creations, but in general the minstrel type is
Folk Minstrel Types 167
more finished and formal, with more of rhyme and
something of the ballad technique, with much of the
humor and entertaining qualities implied in its kind.
Most of these songs would repay special study on the
part of the student of folk songs and ballads who wishes
to trace origins and developments. While all the
songs we have listed are Negro songs in the sense that
they are sung much and regularly by Negroes, with the
special artistic expression and manner common to them,
they are, of course, often much mixed with similar
songs originating elsewhere. In the case of It Ain't
Gonna Rain No Mo\ l for instance, the origin of course
is a common one, and many of the scores of verses are
sung alike by white and Negro minstrels, with only
minor distinctions due to manner and situation. And
yet of the several hundred verses which are even now
extant, some are very clearly of Negro origin, exhibiting
something of the Negro's traditional phrases and his
blues. A Negro quartette singing It Ain't Gonna
Rain No Mo' is undoubtedly singing a Negro song.
Among the songs in the previous volume which are
adapted to the minstrel type of singing are Railroad
Bill, Lilly, Stagolee, Eddy Jones, 2 and some of the
more recently composed religious types.
One of the most attractive of all the Negro songs we
have heard was That Liar, sung by two elderly Negro
men at Columbia, South Carolina, through the courtesy
of Dr. E. L. C. Adams. The main part of the song
is always chanted by the leader in recitative sing-song
very much after the fashion of a sermon when the
minister has reached his emotional climax. Then
upon reaching the chorus, he suddenly turns into rapid
1 No verses of It Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo' are given in this volume,
although our collection included several score. They are scarcely within the
bounds of the present collection.
2 See The Negro and His Songs, pp. 196, 198, 205, 228.
168 Negro Workaday Songs
song, accompanied by his companion. They sing
the chorus with the usual accompaniment of "Oh"
or "Lawd" or "Let me tell you." The song, with
some variations and repetitions, is good for almost an
hour's entertainment. It is also a very good shouting
song.
That Liar 1
Jes' let me tell you how a liar will do.
Always comin' with somethin' new,
He'll steal yo' heart with false pretense,
Makin' out like he's yo' bes' frien;
An' when he finds out you believe what he say,
Then that liar gonna have his way.
He'll bring you news 'bout women and men,
Make you fall out with yo' bes' frien'.
Chorus:
If you don't want to get in trouble,
If you don't want to get in trouble,
If you don't want to get in trouble,
You better let that liar alone.
When a liar takes a notion his friends to improve,
He lay around de neighbors and git de news.
Nearly every day when yu look out,
See that liar come to yo' house,
Tell you sich lies surprise yo' min'
An' mix a little truth to make it shine.
An' when he git his news fix jes' right,
That liar gonna cause a fight.
When everything's in perfect peace,
Here come that liar with his deceit,
Make believe that he love you so well,
Till every day he must come an' tell.
"Let me tell you, my sister, if you jes' knew
What a certain somebody tell me 'bout you."
He studies up lie and tell it so smooth,
Until you think undoubtedly must be true.
He'll bring you out to trace de tale,
An' if you don't mind you'll be put in jail.
*Cf. The song given by Ballanta in his St. Helena Island Spirituals, p. 72.
Folk Minstrel Types 169
A hypocrite and liar both keep up a fuss,
Dey both very bad, but a liar's the wuss;
He'll come to yo' house in powerful rush,
Say, "I can't stay long for I must go to my work,
I jes' come to tell you what somebody say."
Then he'll take a seat an' stay all day.
He'll tell you some things that'll cause you to pout,
Then at las' he'll force you out.
He knows that he owes you, an' if you ask him for pay,
He'll fall out wid you and stay away.
Sung in very much the same way is the War Jubilee
Song, itself a type of popular traveling song. It was
the favorite of the same two singers, both noted
songsters of the Columbia environs, and they claimed
to have learned it from a traveling Negro secretary of
the Y. W. C. A., who came from Florida immediately
after the World War. Here again the chorus was sung
with effective variations, "Now I'm so glad," or "You
know I'm so glad," or "I declare I'm so glad," and
many others.
War Jubilee Song
When the U. S. got in de war
Wus de saddes' day I ever saw.
Registration day began to start
An' it come near breakin' all mothers' heart.
Chorus:
Now I'm so glad, I'm so glad,
Now I'm so glad, I'm so glad,
Now I'm so glad, I'm so glad
Jesus brought peace all over dis Ian'.
You know, I declare,
Jesus brought peace all over dis Ian'.
But God who called us here below
ToP de boys, "Get ready, with you I'll go."
Jes' take me over in Germany Ian'
An' I will conquer every man.
170 Negro Workaday Songs -
When time fer train to roll,
Uncle Sam had boys under his control,
An' when town bell begin to ring
Some tried to be happy and begin to sing.
Some from Newport News, so I am tol',
An' some in France where it was col'.
Jes' carry me over in de Ian' of France
Where every soldier will have a fightin' chance.
That vessel leave New York with thousands on board,
Steam ship carry such a heavy load.
Lawd, I'm over in very strange Ian',
Wid all soldiers walk han' in han'.
An' no good Christian did not fear,
'Cause Jesus Christ was engineer,
Engineer standin' at chariot wheel
Backin' up children on battle fiel'.
Reason why war did last so long,
So many people was livin' wrong,
Jes' goin' round runnin' down colors and race
An' oughter been beggin' fer little mo' grace.
Whilst dey wus fightin' great noise wus heard,
Smoke wus flyin' jes' lak a bird,
Men were dyin' wid thousands of groans,
Now peace declared an' boys at home.
Uncle Sam he made and signed a decree
For American nation to ben' de knee.
God sits in Heaven an' answers prayer,
An' dey had to stop fightin' over there.
We put ourselves as debt to God,
We say we'd follow where he trod,
But de way got dark and we couldn't see
Jes' who de winner of war would be.
But de Christians prayed until dey cried,
Hypocrite say dat dey had lied.
But in deir heads dey had a doubt,
But when peace was declared, Lawd, dey wanted to
shout.
Folk Minstrel Types 171
One of the most entertaining songs in all the reper-
toire of the Negro's aggregate creations is Mr. Epting,
sung by four Negro pick-and-shovel men with such
zest and harmony as we have rarely heard. It is
apparently a parody on the war song Good Morning,
Mr. Zip, and with this particular quartette of workers
would make a hit on any stage. In the singing, the
largest member of the group dances a jig and exclaims
in his big bass voice, "Lawd, Lawd, I feels funny
when I sings this song. Lawd, Lawd, I can't keep
still, it gives me such a funny feelin'. Whoopee!
Singin' 'bout white man gives me funny feelin'." In
addition to the verses sung here the singer may sub-
titute for whiskey and cocaine such words as gun,
woman, policeman, work, and other forces which may
be calculated to lead to the demise of these slanderers
of Mr. Epting.
Good Morning, Mr. Epting
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just nappy as mine.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
You belong to the K. K. kind.
Well, ashes to ashes,
Well, dust to dust,
Show me a woman
That you can trust.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just nappy as mine.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just kinky as mine.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
You belong to the K. K. kind.
Well, ashes to ashes,
Well, dust to dust,
Show me a woman
That you can trust.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just kinky as mine.
172 Negro Workaday Songs
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just as black as mine.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
You belong to the K. K. kind.
Well, if whiskey don't kill me,
Well, cocaine must,
Show me a woman
That you can trust.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just black as mine.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just black as mine.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
You belong to the K. K. kind.
Pistol don't kill me,
Well, cocaine must,
Show me a woman
That you can trust.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just as black as mine.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just short as mine.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
You belong to the K. K. kind.
Well if whiskey don't kill me,
Well, cocaine must,
Show me a woman
That you can trust.
Good morning, Mr. Epting,
Your hair just as short as mine.
The old song Raise a Rukus Tonight is now a popular
one in various forms, those given here representing
Georgia, Tennessee and North Carolina. There are
many other versions and fragments, but these will
suffice to indicate the type and mixture so common
at present. One may easily see the similarity to the
old song but also its corruption by such modern types
Folk Minstrel Types 173
as It Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo\ Wring Jing, while
not a "rukus" chorus, is so much of the same sort as
to make its comparison of value. The other much
varied and corrupted types are also valuable for
comparative purposes.
Raise a Rukus Tonight
A
My ol' master promise me,
Raise rukus tonight;
Before he died he'd set me free,
Raise rukus tonight.
Chorus:
Come along, chillun, come along,
While the moon is shining bright,
Get on board, down the river float,
'Cause we gonna raise a rukus tonight.
His hair come out and his head turned bal',
Raise rukus tonight;
He got out o' notion dyin' at all,
Raise rukus tonight.
'Scuse me, mister, don't get mad,
Raise rukus tonight;
'Cause you look like sumpin the buzzards had,
Raise rukus tonight.
Look at that nigger, ain't he black?
Raise rukus tonight;
Got hair on his head like a carpet tack,
Raise rukus tonight.
Black cat settin' on chimney jam,
Raise rukus tonight;
If that ain't hot place, I'll be damn,
Raise rukus tonight.
Way down yonder on chit'lin' switch,
Raise rukus tonight;
Bull frog jump from ditch to ditch,
Raise rukus tonight.
174 Negro Workaday Songs
Bull frog jump from bottom of well,
Raise rukus tonight;
Swore, by God, he jumped from hell,
Raise rukus tonight.
Raise a Rukus Tonight
B
Some folks say preacher won't steal,
Raise rukus tonight;
I caught two in my corn fiel',
Raise rukus tonight.
One had a bushel, one had fo',
Raise rukus tonight;
If that ain't stealin' I don't know,
Raise rukus tonight.
My ol' missus promised me,
Raise rukus tonight;
When' she died she'd set me free,
Raise rukus tonight.
She live so long 'til she got bal',
Raise rukus tonight;
She got out notion dyin' at all,
Raise rukus tonight.
So come along, chillun, come along,
Where moon shine bright tonight;
Get on board before boat gone,
Gonna raise rukus tonight.
Raise a Rukus Tonight
C
Come on, niggers,
While the moon is shining bright,
Get on the boat,
Down the river we'll float,
We're gonna raise a rukus tonight.
Come on, little chillun,
While the moon is shining bright,
Folk Minstrel Types 175
We're gonna raise cornbread
An' sweet potatoes tonight,
Raise rukus tonight.
My ol' missus promised me,
Raise rukus tonight,
When she died she'd set me free.
We're gonna raise a rukus tonight,
Gonna raise a rukus tonight.
My ol' master promised me,
Gonna raise a rukus tonight,
When I grew to be a man
He'd give me a horse's rein.
Gonna raise a rukus tonight.
Wring Jing Had a Little Ding
If I live to see next fall,
Wring Jing had a little ding,
Ain't goin' to have no lover at all,
Wring Jing had a little ding.
My ol' missus promised me,
Wring Jing had a little ding,
When she died she'd set me free,
Wring Jing, had a little ding.
When she died she died so po',
Wring Jing had a little ding,
She left me sittin' on de kitchen flo',
Wring Jing had a little ding.
Bull frog jumped into bottom of well,
Wring Jing had a little ding,
Swore, by golly, he jumped in hell,
Wring Jing had a little ding.
My ol' missus had a mule,
Wring Jing had a little ding,
His name was Martin Brown,
Wring Jing had a little ding.
Every foot that Martin had,
Wring Jing had a little ding,
Would cover an acre of groun',
Wring Jing had a little ding.
176 Negro Workaday Songs
Gwine to Git a Home By an' By
My ol' missus promised me,
Gwine to git a home by an' by,
When she died, she'd set me free,
Gwine to git a home by an' by.
She did live till she got bal',
Gwine to git a home by an' by,
And she never died at all,
Gwine to git a home by an' by.
Chorus:
Den O dat watermelon!
Lamb of goodness, you must die;
I'm gwine to jine de contraband, chillun,
Gwine to git a home by an' by.
A shoo-fly cut a pigeon wing,
Gwine to git a home by an' by;
A rattlesnake rolled in a 'possum's skin,
Gwine to git a home by an' by.
Cow path crooked gwine through the wood,
Gwine to git a home by an' by,
Missus says I shan't, I says I should,
Gwine to git a home by an' by.
Sister Sue and ol' Aunt Sallie,
Gwine to git a home by an' by,
Both live down in shin-bone alley,
Gwine to git a home by an' by.
Name on de house, name on de do',
Gwine to git a home by an' by,
Big green spot on de grocery sto',
Gwine to git a home by an' by.
There are many songs of the mule, some of which are
old and being revived, some of which have been made
new by the phonograph records. The first illustration
here was sung with remarkable effect at the Dayton,
Tennessee, Scopes trial, with hundreds of whites and
Negroes standing around the quartette of Negroes
Folk Minstrel Types 177
who came for the occasion. Most of their songs were
of the stereotyped sort, such as Ain't Gonna Rain No
Mo\ The mule song is the best illustration of the
minstrel type given in this volume. The other mule
songs are presented largely for comparison, and are
not particularly valuable. One of these, exhorting
Miss Liza to keep her seat, is similar to the version
collected twenty years ago in Mississippi. 1
Go 'Long Mule
I've got a mule, he's such a fool
He never pays no heed;
I built a fire 'neath his tail,
An' then he showed some speed.
Chorus:
Go 'long, mule,
Don't you roll dem eyes;
You can change a fool, but a doggone mule
Is a mule until he dies.
Drove down to the graveyard,
Some peaceful rest to fin';
But when a black cat crossed my path
I sure did change my min'.
My gal's ol' man don't like me much,
He's got a heart o' flint;
Last night I saw him buy a gun
An' I can take a hint.
I bought some biscuits for my dog
An' put them on the shelf;
Times got so hard I shot the dog
An' ate them up myself.
Both Rufus Akes an' Rastus Payne
Got married down in Gaines;
An' now they say the Georgia woods
Are full of Akes an' Paynes.
1 See The Negro and His Songs, p. 235.
12
178 Negro Workaday Songs
A cowslip ain't no kind o' slip
To slip upon a cow;
That's why a catfish never answers
To a cat's meow.
A man in Georgia pulled a gun
An' took a shot at me;
Just as he took the second shot
I passed through Tennessee.
Bill Jones was taken ill while callin'
On his gal Salome.
What really caused his illness was
Her husband who came home.
They say some one's been stealin' things,
It's kind-a newsed aroun';
I swear I don't know who it is,
But I am leavin' town.
I'm goin' to the river now
To lay me down and die,
An' if I find the water's wet
I'll wait until it's dry.
My gal invited me to dine,
I went prepared to eat;
But all she placed upon my plate
Was chicken necks and feet.
They're gonna hold a meetin' there
Of some society.
There's 'leven sheets upon the line,
That's ten too much for me. i
1 Evidently refers to a Ku Klux Klan meeting.
Folk Minstrel Types 179
Hump-back Mule
If you want to sneeze,
Tell you what to do,
Get some salt an' pepper,
Put it in yo' shoe.
Ridin' hump-back mule,
Ridin' hump-back mule,
If you want to see pretty yaller gal,
She's ridin' a hump-back mule.
01' massa bought pretty yaller gal,
Bought her from the South,
She wrapped her hair so tight
She couldn't open her mouth.
Ridin' hump-back mule,
Ridin' hump-back mule,
If you wartt to see pretty yaller gal,
She's ridin' a hump-back mule.
Carried her to blacksmith shop
To have her mouth made small,
She back her years and open her mouth
An' swallowed shop and all.
Ridin' hump-back mule,
Ridin' hump-back mule,
If you want to see pretty yaller gal,
She's ridin' a hump-back mule.
Niggers plant de cotton on hill,
Niggers pick it out,
White man pocket money,
Nigger does without.
Ridin' hump-back mule,
Ridin' hump-back mule,
If you want to see pretty yaller gal,
She's ridin' a hump-back mule.
Whoa, Mule
I hear dem sleigh bells ringin', snow am fallin' fas',
I's got dis mule in de horness, got him hitched at las'.
Liza, get yo' bonnet, come an' take a seat,
Grab up dat robe you're sittin' on an' cover up yo' feet.
180 Negro Workaday Songs
Chorus:
Whoa, mule, whoa I say!
Keep yo' seat, Miss Liza Jane, an' hold on to de sleigh.
Whoa, mule, whoa I say!
Keep yo' seat, Miss Liza Jane, an' hold on to de sleigh.
What's dis mule a-roamin' for? He ain't got half a load.
When you catch dis mule a-roamin', jus' give him all
de road.
Don't get scared at nothin', you stay here today,
Liza, help me hold dis mule, or else he'll get away.
Watch dis mule a-goin', goodness how he can sail!
Watch his big ears floppin', see him sling his tail.
Goin' down to de 'possum, Liza, you keep cool,
I ain't got time to kiss you now, I's busy with dis mule.
A Nigger's Hard to Fool
A Georgia nigger an' a Georgia mule,
Dese two asses is hard to fool.
Might fool a white man,
Might fool his mother,
Might fool his sister,
An' you might fool his brother;
But a nigger's hard to fool,
But a nigger's hard to fool.
A Georgia yaller gal
An' a Georgia black
Kin always dog
A feller's track,
But he's hard to fool.
Yes, Lawd, a nigger's hard to fool.
A Georgia road's red,
Bottom Ian' black,
A Georgia nigger
Is a cracker jack,
An' he's hard to fool.
Yes, Lawd, a nigger's hard to fool.
Folk Minstrel Types 181
I'm Fishin' Boun'
Look 'cross the fiel', see the sun comin' down,
Dis is de day to be layin' 'roun'.
Bait in de can, hook on de stick,
I'm done too lazy to hit a lick,
I'm fishin' boun', I'm fishin' boun'.
Lazies got me, an' I don't keer,
Stomach's empty, but who's gonna fear?
Bait in de can, hook on de stick,
Fishin' spell done got me, I can't hit a lick,
I'm fishin' boun', I'm fishin' boun'.
Come on fellers, wid yo' luck in yo' han'
We's gonna eat minners out de fryin' pan,
Bait in de can, hook on de line,
If I don't go to fishin', nigger, I'll be dyin',
I'm fishin' boun', I'm fishin' boun.
Stretch flat on yo' belly wid yo' back in de air,
Look out fo' yo' hook, Lawd, he's bitin' dere!
Bait in de can, hook on de stick,
I'm plum' so hungry, I'm most nigh sick,
I'm fishin' boun', I'm fishin' boun'.
Co'n Bread
Co'n bread, co'n bread,
Feed dis nigger on co'n bread.
White man eats biscuit,
Nigger eats pone;
Nigger he's de stronges'
Jes' sho's you bo'n.
Co'n bread, co'n bread,
Give dis nigger greasy co'n bread.
Put on de skillit,
Po' in de grease,
Don't make a little,
But a great big piece.
Co'n bread, co'n bread,
All lazy niggers loves co'n bread.
182 Negro Workaday Songs
Sif out de bran an'
Drap in de pone,
Lawd knowed whut he's doin'
When he made dat co'n.
Co'n bread, co'n bread,
Give dis nigger plenty co'n bread.
You loves Emma an'
I loves Jake.
You is de nigger
Some greasy co'n bread to bake.
Co'n bread, co'n bread,
Black greasy nigger eats co'n bread.
One han' in de hopper,
De udder in de sack,
01' black nigger wid
Red lips to smack.
Co'n bread, co'n bread,
Black greasy nigger eats co'n bread.
'Taters in de hill,
Meal in de bag,
Home-made sirup
In de old black keg.
Co'n bread, co'n bread,
Black lazy nigger eats co'n bread.
Ashes in de corner,
Fire in de middle;
Woman cooks rations,
Man sets an' whittles.
Co'n bread, co'n bread,
Feed dis nigger on co'n bread.
Other songs which are current through the singing
of the minstrel type, or distributed widely on printed
sheets in much the same way as the "mule" songs,
are No Coon But You, De CoH House in De Sky, and
Folk Minstrel Types 183
Hi-Jenny-Ho, sent us by Mr. J. D. Arthur of Ten-
nessee. The Pullman Porter is a little more sophis-
ticated, but represents a type of humor and easy-going
vaudeville style.
No Coon But You
As I was strollin' down the street,
"Who did you meet?"
A yellah gal I chanced to meet.
"What did you say?"
Said I, "My little honey, now who's
you gwine to meet ?
May I have the pleasure of walkin'
down the street
With the one I long so for? You are
the apple of my eye."
An' then she turned her sparklin' eyes
an' quickly said to me:
Chorus:
"No coon but you, babe, no coon but you,
No coon but you, babe, will ever do.
No coon but you, babe, no coon but you,
No coon but you will ever do."
As w e were passin' down the street,
"What happened then?"
Her Sunday babe we chanced to meet.
"What happened then?"
He grabbed me by the shoulder, he quickly
turned me 'roun'.
Said I, "Look out here, nigger, I'll fall
you to the groun'."
But he took away my yellah gal, an' as
they passed me by,
I heard him say, "Now who's your babe?" an'
then she said to him:
"No coon but you, babe," etc.
184 Negro Workaday Songs
That very same night there was a ball.
"Where, nigger, where?"
Down at the Black Fo'-Hundred's Hall,
"S'pose you were there?"
Yes, I took along my razuh, an' gave
it such a swing,
I cut that yellah nigger right under
his left wing.
An' as they carried out his corpse
I heard the people say,
"Now who'll be her babe?" an' then
she said to me:
"No coon but you, babe," etc.
De Co't House in de Sky
I's got a notion in my head
As when you come to die,
You'll stand a 'zamination
In de co't house in de sky.
You'll be astonished at the questions
That the angels gwine to ax,
When they get you on the witness stan'
An' pin you to the facts.
Den yo' eyes will open wider
Than they ever done befo',
When they ax you 'bout the chicken scrapes
What happened long ago.
Chorus:
To de co't house in de sky
I will raise my wings an' fly,
An' stan' the 'zamination
In de co't house in de sky.
Now de angels on de picket line
Along the milky way
Keeps watchin' what you're doin'
An' hearin' what you say.
No matter what you're gwine to do,
No matter whar you're gwine,
They's mighty apt to find it out
An' pass it long de line.
Folk Minstrel Types 185
Den often in de meetin'-house
You make a fuss or laugh,
Den the news it goes a kitin'
'Long the golden telegraph.
Den de angel in de office,
What is settin' by the gate,
Jes' reads the message with a look
An' claps it on de slate.
Oh, you'd better do yo' duty, boys,
An' keep yo' conscience clear,
An' keep a-lookin' straight ahead
An' watchin' whar you steer.
'Cause after while the time will come
To journey from dis Ian',
Dey'll take you 'way up in de air
An' place you on de stan'.
Den you'll have to listen mighty close
An' answer mighty straight,
If you ever 'spects to enter
Through that pretty golden gate.
Oh, you'd better stop yo' foolin',
That's a place you can't slide by,
When you stan' the 'zamination
In de co't house in de sky.
Hi, Jenny, Ho, Jenny Johnson
Once I loved a yaller gal, she said she'd marry me,
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, ho, my Jenny Johnson!
Saw her eatin' apples at a huckleberry bee,
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson!
Took her to a ball an' we never did get back
Till the break of morn, when you hear the chickens
quack.
She wouldn't take the cars, so I took her in a hack;
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson!
Chorus:
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, come along with me,
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, ho, my Jenny Johnson!
Sweeter than the honey at a huckleberry bee,
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson!
186 Negro Workaday Songs
O my darling Jenny, she's the sweetest girl in town,
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, ho, my Jenny Johnson!
Captivates the neighborhood for miles an' miles aroun',
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson!
Said she loved another an' it broke my heart in two,
An' I had to get it mended with a little piece of glue;
She gave me back my locket an' a little silver shoe,
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson !
Now my Jenny's married to a little yaller coon,
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny, ho, my Jenny Johnson!
Take care for Jenny's hubby, for he'll kill you mighty
soon,
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson !
Wooly-headed pickaninnies runnin' roun' the flo',
For they say there's only two, but I wish they had a sco';
I'm gwine away to China, so I'll never see her mo',
Hi, Jenny, ho, Jenny Johnson!
Pullman Porter
Runs from California
Plumb up to Maine.
I's a Negro porter
On de pullman train.
Pullman train,
Pullman train,
I's de Negro porter
On de pullman train.
Braid on the cap an'
Buttons in a row,
On that blue uniform
Right down the fo'.
In pullman train,
Pullman train,
I's a Negro porter
On de pullman train.
It's a tip right here
An' a tip right thar,
Tip all along
Up an' down de pullman car.
Folk Minstrel Types 187
Pullman train,
Pullman train,
I's a Negro porter
On de pullman train.
Pocket full o' money,
Stomach full o' feed,
What next in the worl'
Do a fellow need ?
Pullman train,
Pullman train,
I's a Negro porter
On de pullman train.
Kitty Kimo l
Dar was a frog lived in a spring,
He had such a cold dat he could not sing,
I pulled him out an' frowed him on de groun',
01' frog he bounced an' run aroun'.
Chorus:
Camo, kimo, daro, war,
My high, my ho, my rumstipumstididdle,
Soot bag, pidly-wickem, linch 'em, nip cat,
Sing song, Polly, won't you kime, oh?
Milk in de dairy, nine days ol',
Rats an' skippers are gettin' hoi';
A long-tailed rat in a bucket of souse,
Jes' come from de white folks' house.
In North Carolina de niggers grow,
If de white man only plant his toe.
Water de ground with 'bacco smoke,
An' up de nigger's head will poke.
Way down South in Cedar street,
Dere's where de niggers grow ten feet,
Dey go to bed, but 'tain't no use,
Deir feet hang out for a chicken's roos'.
1 Cf. Scarborough, On the Trail of Negro Folk-Songs, pp. 156-7.