‘avorites x4 (\ jl TIONS AW ‘ SS = I Copyrighted 1878, by BrapLE & ADAms. Price, 5 Cents. CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER. PAGE, Wearingthe Blue ..) .....-..... 8 That Girl Across the Way... ... 9 The Fisherman’s Daughter...... 9 PAGE. I’m the Governor’s Only Son... 1 Rilleen Aanng, 5 i. 5.0 veers aap 2 Paddy’s the Boy.. ee Colleen Avarra... It’s Funny When Way What Care I zi The Hoolahan Musketeers!...... Victory 6 LAN 5.55 0 Bs detaues Strangers Yet.. Farewell Song of Enoch Arden.. De Gospel Cars 2650 Sicodds neste “Douglas! Tender and True.”’.. Walking Down Broadway....... “ Little Barefoot.”’......5...5... When the Band Begins to Play .. -Dark-Eyed Norina............... From Madison to Union Square.. Baby’s Got a Tooth!............. E Pluribus Unum .. Billy Johnson’s Ball....... ..... “That’s What Our Papers Say ” The. Door. Ajar. 2 5? Bie SANT OND ea scion eae Ek ; She’s Handsome as a Rose...... Little Nannie ... .. Why Don’t You Come and See Me? nds pices Ree ta Reap hen 2 Coming Home from the Ball ... WMG “OGG 72). < ssi ska ce Kissing in the Moonlight... .... Breeze of the Night... ......... 1 Rather Too Old for Me!.... A Merry Gipsy Girl Again. . Her Front Name is “‘ Hanna: REO At sc oon: sek My Dear Little Mollie Malone... . The Lake-Side Shore. ........ ... Prett Beare, BONG... 54 cance The Grave of Bonaparte ........ BPG BONS aes soc sa snee cs Let Me Kiss Him for His Mother Mill Ma; 12 OWS tHE EAVOE, «02-25. 540 Ss rat oie Where There’s a Will There’s a WAY Ss ics ok Sas Seca eRe 1 Graves of a Household.......... Little Maggie May ‘The Newfoundland Dog......... Magele b ay, BONO Sea diecs Kiss Gate EUR oon wince The Lass that Loves a Sailor.... I'm Leaving thee in Sorrow, I in oo Sete Gloss POR a Seed 14 Willie’ll Roam no More.......... 14 He’s Such a Lovely Waltzer!.... ; Have You Seen my Sister....... 14 Dutch Onion Vender ........ Ww I’m the Governor’s Only Son. Copied by permission of E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, New York, owner of the copyright. Music and words, 35 cents. My name is George Adolphus Brown, A gentleman of fashion; The ladies’ most devoted slave, I’m full of the tender passion. My hands with toil I never soil, And ev’ry care I shun, ‘The old folks think the world of me, I’m the governor’s only son. CHorvus—I’m the governor’s only son, I’m festive and I’m free; At home I am the baby, And my parents dote on me. I’m a favorite with the girls, I give them lots of fun; I’m quite a pet, and don’t forget, I’m the governor's only son. I cultivate a lofty style, I drive a horse and carriage, With some fair creature by my side, But never think of marriage. They say, ‘‘ I ought to settle down, When some sweet-heart I’ve won,” But there’s a score of girls that sigh For the governor’s only son. (CHorus. ) I drink the finest brands of wine, And make my friends all jolly; I love the midnight hour of joy, Though some may think it folly. I never want for cash to spend, I go it while ’'m young, I laugh ha! ha! and sing ta!. ta! I’m the governor’s only son. And Fifty-eight other Songs in this issue! Sold by all newsdealers, five cents each; or sent, post-paid, to any address, on receipt of six cents per copy. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St., N. Y. (CHORUS.) < 2 PARR EILLEEN ALLANNA. Copyrighted by J. R. Tomas. Published by Wm. A. Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York. Music and’words, 50 cents. ~ Hilleen Allanna, Killeen Asthore, Light of my soul and its Queen evermore, It seems years have lingered since last we did part, Hilleen Allanna, the pride of my heart! Oh! darling lov’d one, your dear smile I miss; My lips seem to cling to that sweet parting kiss! Mavourneen, thy sweet face I see at the door, Hilleen Alianna, Augus Asthore. Cuorus—Faithful [ll be to the Colleen I adore, Killeen Allanna, Augus Asthore, Faithful T’ll be to the Colleen I adore, Killeen Allanna, Augus Asthore. Hilleen Allanna, Hilleen Asthore, The ocean’s blue waters wash by the shore Of that dear land of shamrock where thou dost abide, Waiting the day when I'll call thee my bride! God bless you, darling, I know you are true, True to the boy who would die now for you; My heart is now bleeding to its innermost core, Eilleen Alanna, Augus Asthore. (CHORUS.) Why Don’t You Come and See Me? Copyrighted by H.Criron. Published by E. H. Harptna, 229 Bowery, New York. Music and words, 10 cents. I met a lady friend to-day Of charming look and manner gay, We stood awhile To chat and smile, And long she lured me to delay. All things and topics we discuss’d; . Her voice was rich and creamy; “¢ Where have you been? you’re awful mean! Why don’t you come and see me?” Ne SL A CHorus—Why don’t you come and see me, Why don’t you come and see me? I’m sure there is no danger, I’m always at home, Why don’t you come and see me? Why don’t you come and see me? Why you are such a stranger? Ah, why don’t you come? “You know,” she said, ‘“ the nights are long, You know my patience is not strong, To cheer my eyes, And stop my sighs, T need sometimes a smile or song.” She press’d my arm and smiled so sweet And look’d with eyes so dreamy, I really trembled when she said, “ Why don’t you come and see me?” (CHORUS.) When tea is over, pa goes out, And ma—well, seldom she’s about, So there I’m left, Of joys bereft To sing, or sigh, or sadly pout; Tis then I wish a friendly face Might fall in view to free me From lonelitiess—my heart’s distress— “ Why don’t you'come and see me?” (CHORUS.) In vain I ask you every day And all my anxious love display; Our hands caress, You say, ‘Oh, yes, To you I'll quickly make my way;” But though I wait each night until _ My eyes grow dull and dreamy, K ‘You leave me there in love’s despair— “Why don’t you come and see me?” (CHORUS. ) a Nr et are rr a L$. eee ee THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. III FINI II PINTS INNS RL RS SSR SRNR PRIN. | PADDY’S THE BOY. Copied by permission of Frepsrick Biumn, 861 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. Music:and words, 35 cents. Oh, its some years ago,.[ very well know, Since I first saw daylight with my two blessed eyes; \ I was born, so they say, when my dad was away, é On St. Patrick’s day, in the morning. How they nurs’d me with joy, said, “ What a fine boy!” Put a stick in my fist, by the way of a toy: - Faith! there’s no mistake, they admired my make, ( Said some day I’d give the boys a warming. ' Paddy is the boy that is full of glee: Dear old Dublin is the place for me, And Donnybrook is the place for a spree! At a wake or a fair?poor Paddy is there; He will fight foe or friend, if they do him offend; Let the piper strike up —he will rise*from his cup, With a smile on his face adorning, With his little Colleen, he’ll dance on the green; Sure, an Irishman, there, in his glory is seen; \ Play a reel or a jig, he don’t care a fig; But he'll dance till daylight in the morning. (CHORUS.) Cuorus—For Paddy is the boy that is full of glee, / Now, boys, do you mind: you' never will find { Such a dear little place as the Emerald Isle; Long, long may it stand, and good luck tothe land That dear old St. Patrick was born in! } May the girls, young and old,.may the boys, brave and bold, | Unite, heart and hand, to:protect the dear Isle! And, morn, noon and night, may joy and delight Shine on them; a a fine summer’s morning! (CHOo.) t+ w —— Oe HAPPY-GO-LUCKY. Published by E. H. Hanna, 229 Bowery, N. Y. Music and words, 10 cents. aN. Send care the right about, always be jolly; No matter if you should be low in the purse, Whatever your cares are, remember the maxim, “Tis never so bad, but it mighthave been worse.” Tt must be a long lane that has not a turning, I’ve never beer in it mywelf I declare; If sorrow or trouble looks into my face, boys, I turn him away with an impudent stare. Cuorus—I’m happy go lucky and never say ‘‘ die,” Never say ‘‘die,” never say ‘‘ die,” Give care the cold shoulder, never say ‘‘ die,” Never say “ die,” say I. . « { { ! t { ( { Some people anticipate trouble and worry, And fly off at once to the care-killing Cup; "Tis better to wail on the chapter of chantes, For something or other is sure to turn up. Misfortunes will happen, and worry won’t mend ’em, _ A sober clear head will do much more than that— f Be ready to face ’em—to Jericho send ’em— : | ( A man who’s afraid of misfortune ’s a flat. (CHorRvs.) If I have not a friend, and I have not a dollar, I will not be dolorous then, T declare, ; T'll shake my own hand, and T’ll pull up my collar, Pll whistle a tune and Ill wait for my fare. I may meet, by and by, if I laugh and am merry, ‘ A. sorrowful chap with some money to spend; - His heart I-can cheer; he can pay fora dinner, | ye ihe he And thus give him more than he’s able to lend.. (CH0.) — Tis folly you'll own to look back on a grievance; *Tis worse to rush on and meet trouble half-way, For pleasure is shy, and of blue-deyils jealous; Encourage the blues, and pleasure won’t stay— And life is so short, that time isn’t granted; To flirt with dull care and be jolly to boot, I would tend upon joy like a bright little flower; And tear out old care, like a weed by the root. (CH0.) en bm ee. ae a ae eo nat ‘ > enact ee ee ee ee eee eee OLR CRN eT irae = a Sree arene . 3 4 PRLS AR ART A eR THE. SINGER’S LIBRARY. aes Rae COLLEEN AVARRA. Copied by permission of 8. Braryarp’s Sons, Music Publishers, Cleveland, ., owners of the copyright. Music and words, 35 cents. Colleen Avarra, come back to me! Green grows the meadow-land over the sea, Colleen Avarra, why do you stay, Sad is the time with Mavourneen away! Dreaming I see thee, and waking I hear Songs that we loved in the old home so dear! Colleen Avarra, why do you stay? Sad is the time with Mavourneen away! Copyrighted by of J.L. Peters. Published by Otiver Dirson & Co., 451 Washington street, Boston. Music and words, 35 cents. I went to see my Susan, She met me at the door, And told me that I needn’t come To see her any more; She fell in love with Rufus Andrew Jackson Payne, I looked her in the face and said, “‘ Good-by, Sasan Jane.” CxHorus—Oh! Susan Jane! j Cxorus—Colleen Avarra, CoJleen Avarra, Come from the green isles afar, : Lonely I'm waiting; why do you stay? ee Sad is the time with my darling away! Oh! Susan Jane! Oh! Susan, quit your foolin’, And give my heart to me, Oh, give me back my love again, Colleen Avarra, Colleen asthore, And I will let you be; , Come with your loving smile, just ore! ‘ Bae gs J as of 7; I used to love you dearly, Dear is Killarny, charming to see, : ; ‘ oan I can not love again, 2 But fairer still is Mavourneen to me} ; i. . : 3 ; . I’m going away to leave you soon, Colleen, my darling, the birds sing so gay, ; 7 3 Good-by, Susan Jane. Calling for one who is far, far away ! Green is old Erin, land of the true! j Oh, how I long for Mavourneen and you! Her mouth was like a cellar, Her foot was like a ham, Her eyes were like an owl’s at night, Her voice was never calm; Her hair was long and curly, She looked just like a crane, I’ve bid farewell to all my love, “‘ Good-by, Susan Jane.” (CHORUS. ) (CHORUS. ) It’s Funny When You Feel that Way. Published by E. H. Harprnea, 229 Bowery, New York. Music and words, 10 cents. ‘ Oh, Susan’s so deceiving, She will not do to trust; T’ve threaten’d once to leave her, And leave her now I must; | Ti never love another, To cause me any pain; I’ve trusted her, and all the girls Are just like Susan Jane. (CHORUS. ) I shan’t forget how queer I felt, When first I fell in love, . I had a most severe attack, Through squeezing a lady’s glove; But a lovely hand was in it, As I waltzed with her so gay, I thought myself in Paradise, It’s funny when you feel that way. a ee <_< om f Cuorus—I felt as though I’d tumbled into honey, And somebody had left me all their money, The feeling’s so peculiar and funny, Oh, it’s funny when you feel that way. a a EE Eo What Care I How Fair She Be? I took her down to supper, aes i aD, ce And Isat: down by her side, Copied, by pexselaiion ot ial Rip eiele Aeanisaa . T help’d her to the ‘‘niceys,” ‘ i And } filled her glass, with pride; Shall I, wasting in despair, In fact, paid such attention, Die because a woman’s fair? That she viewed me with dismay, Or make pale my cheeks with care, For | moved my chair so close to hers, *Cause another’s rosy are? Oh, it’s funny when you feel that way. Be she fairer than the day, Or the flow’ry meads of May, If she be not,fair to me, What care I, what care I, What care I how fair she be? What care I? What care I how fair she be? (CH0.) When the affair had broken up, Behind I yet did Jinger, Before I tore myself away, I kiss’d her little finger; I threw “phantom kisses” at the house, As | tripped on home so gay, — I'd have kissed the knocker on her door, Ob, it’s funny when you feel that way. (CHo.) Shall my foolish heart be pined ?Cause I see a woman kind? Or her well-deservings known Make me quite forget my own? Be she with that goodness blest Which may merit name of best, If she be not so to me, What care I, what care I, What care I how kind she be? What care I? What care I how kind she be? We met again one afternoon, And as we were alone, I plucked up nerve, to ask if she Some day would be my own; She blushed and said, ‘‘Go see papa And ask him if I may?’ I danced a can-can round the room, h, it’s funny when you feel that way. (CH0.) The old boy said, “‘ That we might wed,” 4 if. ¢ SS And so he crowned my bliss, 2 . a ‘a And I shall be a doubled man, Leas oF Oot, “ok Mass, —— 1 In about a month from this: I will ne’er the more despair. If she love me, this believe: I will die ere she shall grieve. It she slight me when I woo, T can scorn, and let her go; For if she be not for me, What care I, what care I, What care I for whom she be? What care I? What care I for whom she be? Tt seems as though the time, somehow, } Would never pass away, , aoa I long to hear the wedding tells, Oh, it’s funny when you feel that way. 4 Sroxen—Being a greenhorn in such matters, I inquired of a 4 happy married friend of mine what a honeymoon was like; he said, : { : ‘Well, as near as possible, I can only describe it as though ”-— te iS You fancied you had, etc, (ORRIN RAR, OR RO ON ON OR, ON OO, OR, OR, LS NN Ae I nn a The Hoolahan Musketeers! Copied by permission of E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, New York, owner of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents. It was on a Saturday night That we started a company, And elected Anthony Wright, Our captain for to be. He accepted office with thanks, And appointed us Pioneers, For to march in front of the ranks, In the Hoolahan Musketeers!! CHoRUs—We march’d like soldiers thro’ the streets, With our new flags flying so gay, And bate the time wid both our feet, While the band did sweetly play. From windows high the girls did look, And they smil’d at the Pioneers, And then their handkerchiefs they shook At the Hoolahan Musketeers. To the guests invited we gave All the prizes to carry round, And at nine o’clock we did l’ave, For to go to the shooting ground, Where we stopp’d for two hours or more, And we toasted the Pioneers, Had eating and drinking galore, Did the Hoolahan Musketeers! (CHORUS.) But when we got back to the ward, It was then we felt light and gay, And our captain flourish’d his sword, While the crowd did V’ave the way. At Monahan’s we broke up then, And faith, we gave three hearty cheers, For the officers and the men, In the Hoolahan Musketeers! (CHorus.) VICTORY AT LAST.* Copied by permission of Wm. B. Brapsury, Music Publisher, 425 Broome street, New York, owner of the copyright. For many years we’ve waited, To hail the day of peace, When our land shall be united, And war and strife shall cease; And now that day approaches, The drums are beating fast; And all the boys are coming home, There’s victory at last. Crorus—There’s victory at last, boys, Victory at. last, O’er land and sea our flag is free, ‘We'll nail it to the mast; Yes, we'll nail it to the mast, boys, Nail it to the mast, For there’s victory, victory, Victory at last. The heroes who have gained it, And lived to see that day, We will meet with flying banners, And honors on the way; And all their sad privations Shall to the wind be cast, For all the boys are coming home, There’s victory at last! (CHoRvs.) Oh, happy wives and children, Light up your hearts and homes, For see, with martial music, “ The conquering hero comes,” With flags and streamers flying, While drums are beating fast; For all the boys are coming home, There’s victory at last. (CHorRvs.) * Sung at the raising of the “old flag” over Fort Sumter, April 14th, 1865, « ee PP i Pec a ate crew THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. nnn STRANGERS YET. Published by Freprrick Biumn, 861 Broadway, New York. Music and words, 35 cents. Strangers yet, after years of life together, After fair and stormy weather, After travel in far lands, After touch of wedded hands, Why thus join’d, why ever met, If they must be strangers yet, strangers yet, strangers yet! After childhood’s winning ways, After care and blame and praise, Counsel ask’d and wisdom given, After mutual pray’rs to Heay’n, Child and parent scarce regret, When they part are strangers yet, strangers yet, strangers yet! Will it evermore be thus, Spirits still impervious? Shall we never fairly stand Soul to soul, as hand to hand? Are the bounds eternal set To retain us strangers yet, strangers yet, strangers yet? He Farewell Song of Enoch Arden. Copied by permission of Sep. Winner & Co., Music Publishers, Phila- delphia, owners of the copyright. Cheer up, Annie darling, with hopeful emotion, To-morrow our parting must be; T’ll sail the seas over, I’ll cross the wide ocean, I'll sail the seas over for thee. I will not forget thee, ah, never! no, never! I can not forget thee, I know; Thy smile, like a phantom, shall haunt me forever, And cheer me where’er I may go. CHORUS. Good-by, Annie darling, break off from thy sorrow, Tis sad that our parting must be; Tl sail the seas over, I’ll cross the wide ocean, Pll sail the seas over for thee. I go, Annie darling, but leave thee in sorrow, I go, for thy sake, far away; Then bid me good-by, with a smile, on the morrow, And cheer me with blessings, I pray. Tl think of thee ever, and pray for thee only, As over the waters I roam; Pll tarry not, darling, and leave thee all lonely, But hasten again to my home. (CHORUS. ) Out, out on the ocean, away o’er the billow, My heart on its purpose still bent, My brow shall find rest, when I seek my lone pillow, In knowing that thou art content. Cheer up, Annie darling, break off from thy sorrow, Tis sad that our parting must be; But give me thy smile, when I leave thee to-morrow, To sail the seas over for thee. (CHORUS.) DE GOSPEL CAR. Sung by J. C. Davis, in the Buckeye Minstrels, Mobile, Ala. Dat gospel car is a-coming, Is a-coming’ frough dis land; I hear dem car-wheels a-moving, And straining every hand. Cuorus—Den git on board, little child’en, Git on board, little child’en, Git on board, little child’en, Dar’s room for many more. Dem cars is a-coming, Coming round de curve; Da drawing in sight at every minute, And straining every nerve. (CHORUS.) I hear dem cars a-coming, \ Da drawing near in sight; Oh sinner have your ticket, . And your soul will be all right. (CHorvs.) Seen SSS THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. | 5 “Douglas! Tender and True.” Copied by permission of Wm. A. Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Music and words, 40 cents. Could you come back to me, Douglas! Douglas! In the old likeness that I knew, Td be so faithful, so loving, Douglas! Douglas! Douglas! tender and true. Never a scornful word should pain you, I’d smile as sweet as the angels do, Sweet as your smile on me shone ever, Douglas! Douglas! tender and true, Douglas! Douglas! tender and true. Oh! to think of the hours that are not, My eyes were blinded, your words were few; Do you know the truth now up in heaven? Douglas! Douglas! tender and true, Douglas! Douglas! tender and true. Iwas not half worthy of you, Douglas, I was not worthy of the like of you; _ Now all men beside are to me like shadows, I love you, Douglas! tender and true, I love you, Douglas! tender and true. Stretch forth your hand to me, Douglas! Douglas! Drop forgiveness from heaven like dew, As I lay my heart to thy dead heart, Douglas! Douglas! Douglas! Douglas! tender and true. Walking Down Broadway. Copied by permission of Wm. A. Ponp & Co,, 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. The sweetest thing in life, And no one dare say nay, On a Saturday afternoon, Is walking down Broadway; My sisters through the Park, And at Long Branch wish to say, But I prefer to walk Down the festive, gay Broadway. CHorus—Walking down Broadway, The festive, gay Broadway, The O. K. thing on Saturday Is walking down Broadway. Last Wednesday afternoon, My cousin Will did say, “ Nellie, come along with me, Vl take you down Broadway— To the Theater Comique, To see Captain Jinks so gay, Then we'll dine at Delmonico’s ’Fore returning down Broadway.” Spoxen—And I must say, ladies and gentlemen, with all due deference to other pleasures in life, there’s nothing so charming as— (CHORUS.) “LITTLE BAREFOOT.” Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, Chicago, owners of the copyright. Standing where the bleak winds whistled Round her small and fragile form; Arms within torn garments nestled, Standing there at night and morn; Hundreds passing by unheeding, ’Cept to jostle her aside— There with bare feet cold and bleeding, She in tones of anguish cried: Crorus—“ Mister, please give me a penny, For I’ve not got any pa— Please, sir, give me just one penny, I want to buy some bread for ma!” a a pad Hailing thus each passing stranger, As they hurriedly went by, Some would turn and gaze upon her, Pity beaming from their eye; Others cast a frown upon her, Heeding not the plaintive cry: “TJ must have some bread for mother, Or with hunger she will die.” (CHORUS.) There, one chilly day in winter, Barefoot sat upon the pave, Outstretched were her little fingers, But no pennies did she crave. There, while begging bread for mother Death hath chilled her little heart, Yet each day we see some other Playing little Barefoot’s part. (CHORUS.) When the Band Begins to Play. Copied by permission of Oxiver Dirson & Co., 451 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. I’m very fond of music, To me it’s quite a treat, Unless it be from German bands Or organs in the street. Through listening to the band, one day, I nearly lost my heart, The leader ’twas who found it, And he now with it won’t part. CxHorus—Ohb, I feel so awfully jolly, ‘When the band begins to play; Tam very fond of music, I could listen all the day, Especially when my Charlie leads the band, Pom. Pom. My Charlie was my darling, The beau ideal of love, With his hair so black and curly, And his whitest of white gloves. My love sits in the middle With his baton in his hand, And leads the instrumentalists In a style that I think grand. (CHoRUvs.) They play such jolly music, Waltz, polka and quadrille, And sometimes play so feelingly It gives me quite a thrill. The leader sometimes gives a frown, And looks as though he’s rash, And then they play so soft and sweet, And after comes a crash. (CHORUS.) DARK-EYED NORINA. Copied by permission of Wm. A. Ponp & Co., Music Publishers, 547 Broad- way, New York, owners of the copyright. Oh! dark-eyed Norina, so winning and fair, I’m dreaming of you, with your glossy black hair; Tho’ years have flown o’er us since we two last met, The love of our childhood I'll never forget; Say, don’t you remember those dear early days, The vine-covered school-house, our light-hearted plays, The brook in the meadow, the old mill of stone, The kisses I stole, love, when we were alone? Oh! dark-eyed Norina, my heart breathes a sigh, For you and the pleasures forever gone by! Ah! why did they, darling, our pathways divide? How sweet’were life’s journey with you by my side; Your image I cherish in sorrow and tears, The one golden ray in the gloom of my years; The faces of childhood return, love, to me, But yours is the fairest of all that I see; Old care-bringing Time seems to pause in his flow, To dream in the sunshine of days long ago! Oh! dark-eyed Norina, my heart breathes a sigh, For you and the pleasures forever gone by! so eens E “From Madison to Union Square.” Copied by permission of E. H. Hanpina, 229 Bowery, New York, owner of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents. From Madison to Union Square I often stroll to take the air, And at the pretty girls to stare, Walking up and down. I sometimes catch a gentle glance, That makes my heart with rapture dance, When I meet a lady friend, ‘‘ by chance ” Walking up and down. Cxorus—From Madison to Union Square I love to stroll and take the air, For all the beautiful girls are there, Walking up and down. At four each day I leave my home, And up and down Broadway I roam, Of course I seldom walk alone, Iam known so well. I’m known at ey'ry step I take, And oh, such pretty bows I make, I was born the ladies’ hearts to break, And to be a swell. (CHORUS.) The street is full, yet gay and proud Upon each other still they crowd, And some in dress are rather ‘‘loud,” Walking up and down. Some come to view the pretty hats, And some to have their little chats, Many are the queens of nice “ French flats,” Walking up and down. (CHORUS.) Just see that girl’s bewitching gaze While with her handkerchief she plays, Ob! she has most delightful ways, Walking up and down. For belles and beaux no thoroughfare Can with this neighborhood compare, Oh there is a charm, I do declare, Walking up and down, (CHORUS.) BABY’S GOT A TOOTH! Copied by permission of Freprrick Biume, 861 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. Music and words, 35 cents. Well, there, I’m so delighted, I don’t know what to do, I feel so awful proud, boys, Now tell me wouldn’t you? When married but a twelvemonth, Yes, to my heartfelt joy, Our union it was blest, With a bouncing little boy. Spoxmn—lI was delighted at hearing one day:. CHORUS. Dada! } Maria! 5 Well I declare! . Baby’s got a tooth, did you ever! Well there! Tra-la! I'll strike you, pray share my joy, What is more delightful, than a first tooth in one’s boy? Come see! { smoking, ( sewing, Was reading ‘‘ Tweed ” had gone: Wonder’d if he’d meet Genet, If Conner felt forlorn; When to my great surprise, a shout Rung shrilly in my ear, Our baby’s got a tooth, i dada! t Yes, I was sitting mama! Come kiss the little dear. Sroxmen—Who could resist it? Kiss it? of course I did, over p dada, Nurse says it’s the picture of its { a aed ! t of Well, it’s no use talking, all I can think of is: and over again! course it is! THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. RI RIOR Now may be you will not believe How happy I did feel, Pores That day ) dear § But then I didn’t squeal; My mind was occupied that day ‘With only one idea, *T was baby’s got a tooth, oh! joy, The precious little dear! Spoxen—lIt’s true I had to walk the floor with it half the night, and heat the Paregoric over the gas, and nearly froze; but (CHo.) lost some thousands, Sr oe then imagine a} ee f joy as | ae f thought of: I'd let it bite my finger, And then ’twould chew my thumb; It seemed to please it, really With joy I was quite dumb. The day ’twas born, I felt so glad— Twas nothing unto this! Our baby’s got a tooth, I know, § father’s ) { mother’s § am Excuse a Spoxen—Why, really I had to avoid all my intimate acquaint- ances that day, for I felt so happy that I’d have given my last cent away I actually believe. Why Araminta Flapjack came in with tears in her eyes and said, ‘‘ Have you heard the news?” I said, “‘ Why of course! our baby’s got a tooth.” ‘Oh! no,” she cried, with an additional burst of grief, ‘My mother is dead!” Well, then, you can imagine my ecstasy, when I could not see her grief without being told. I said, ‘‘ My dear, I sym- pathize with your grief, but ’m so overjoyed, for this morning Dad A Peo ; said: (CHorus.) St aig pl ae E PLURIBUS UNUM. Copied by permission of Perers & Sons, Fourth street, Cincinnati, O., owners of the copyright. Though many and bright are the stars that appear In the flag of our country unfurl’d; And the stripes that are swelling in majesty there, Like a rainbow adorning the world; Their lights are unsullied as those in the sky, By a deed that our fathers have done, And they’re leagued in as true and as holy a tie, Jn their motto of ‘‘ Many in one.” From the hour when those patriots fearlessly flung That banner of star-light abroad, Ever true to themselves, to that motto they clung As they clung to the promise of God; By the bayonet traced at the midnight of war, On the fields where our glory was won, Oh! perish the hand, or the heart that would mar Our motto of ‘‘ Many in one.” *Mid the smoke of the contest, the cannon’s deep roar, How oft it hath gather’d renown; While those stars were reflected in rivers of gore, When the cross and the lion went down. And though few were their lights in the gloom of that hour, Yet the hearts that were striking below, Had God for their bulwark, and truth for their power And they stopp’d not to number the foe. We are many in one where there glitters a star In the blue of the heavens above, And tyrants shall quail ’mid their dungeons afar, When they gaze on our motto of love. It shall gleam o’er the sea ’mid the bolts of the storm, O’er the tempest, and battle, and wreck, And flame where our guns with their thunder grow warm, ’Neath the blood on the slippery deck. Then up with our flag, let it stream on the air, Though our fathers are cold in their graves; They had hands that could strike, they had souls that could dare, And their sons were not born to be slaves, : Up, up with our banner where’er it may call, : Our millions shall rally around, A nation of freemen that foment shall fall, TT (CHORUS.) ~ When its stars shall be trail’d on the ground. Ae ca ear eae et ld : Se ts z a ~~~ —~ ti en La era ae : Te , “ ? | L | | oh | { Se aay ae ga BILLY JOHNSON’S BALL. Published by E. H. Harprne, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music aud words, 10 cents. Billy Johnson had been married Just a twelvemonth and a day, When he sent his friends some letters, In which he went to say As how about just two months since, A baby had been sent, So he’d give a ball to celebrate - The glorious event. CHORUS. Lar dar de dar, and doodle, doodle, diddle, They play’d upon the fiddle, and went up and down the middle, Such jolly boys, and pretty girls, enough to please you all, A reg’lar brilliant sort of spree was Billy Johnson’s ball. There were the Jones-es-es; and the Brown-es-es, And the Smith-es-es a score, The Spriggins-es, the Scoggins-es, And half a dozen more; In Billy’s room there wasn’t room, To dance a decent jig, So he went and took a big one At “The Tinder-box and Pig.” Spoxen—An efficient band was provided, consisting of a fiddle, a tin whistle, and a Jew’s harp, and they played: (CHORUS.) They introduced the baby, And we kissed it twice all round, Mrs. Johnson was quite ‘“‘overcome,” Fell fainting to the ground, But they “ brought her to” with water, And.‘‘a drop of something in,” And when “she felt herself again,” The dancing did begin. (CHORUS.) In and out and round about, Such a ball was never seen, And evéry now and then, We'd ‘‘a drop to drink between.” Billy Johnson he got dancing, With all the girls he’d find, Mrs. Johnson she grew jealous, And declared he was “ unkind.” SpoxEen—I make it a rule never to interfere in family quarrels, so I chose a lovely creature in red and yellow, and as we glided into the— (CHorRvs.) I drank “‘love ” to the Jones-es, I drank “love” to the Browns, I tried to keep on dancing, but ’Twas somehow “up and down.” To tell you how it ended, I really am not able, For I found myself next morning, Lying underneath the table. Spoxen—I felt rather confused till a friend reminded mo that I had been doing the— (CHORUS.) o-— “That's What Our Papers fay.” Written by Jas. P. Guenn, Philadelphia, Pa. Now the news is bound to spread around, No matter what you do; First it goes the ‘‘rounds of the press;” Next, it comes to you. So now I’ll tell you all I know About the living and the dead; And also all the latest news, From the papers which I read. Now there is Stewart’s new hotel, Tis New York’s latest fraud, They charge “six dollars” every week, For a working woman’s “board.” I'll tell you now of the “ Fenian scare,” And of their intended raid; In every town they’ll have a regiment, That’s what our papers said. THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. EE IPL LLP LDP OI 7 oe oat celceasiaited John Morrissey now is gone from our midst, And so is Tweed our ‘ Boss.” The Russians are buying all our ships, To go hunting for Charlie Ross. While Grant goes roaming round the world, And sleeping under sheds, With an old “ bull-pup ” each side of him, Is what our papers said. Now they are recruiting men, To ‘list the ‘Schuylkill navy,” Because Beecher says, ‘‘ There is no hell” To melt us into gravy. Now all those “boys” in Washington, While bull-dozing, got ‘‘knocked in the head;” And President Hayes is getting “‘showed up,” Is what our papers said. Some poor men now who are out of work, Of them I’m going to tell; If they should steal a loaf of bread, They’re “ chucked ” into a cell. While the rich can go and “‘bu’st our banks,” Or, perhaps they’d shoot you dead; But what the law does with these men, Our papers never said. THE DOOR AJAR. Copyrighted by C. K. Remineron. Published by Wm. A. Ponp & Co., 547 roadway, N. Y. Music and words, 40 cents. The summers come, the summers go, They fly unheeded past my door, . One star in heay’n is all I know, On it I gaze forevermore! The sun may gild the clouds with gold, Beyond them still I gaze afar To one who flew to Heaven’s fold, And left for me the door ajar! To one who flew to Heaven’s fold, And left for me the door ajar! I heed no more the blossoms fall, No more for me the robins sing; I only hear a sweet voice call: “Come upward to the Endless Spring!” No more I view the valley green, I only see the blue afar, Where my sweet one hath enter’d in And left for me, the door ajar! Where my sweet one hath enter’d in And left for me, the door ajar! LILLY DALE. Copied by permission of OxIver Drrson & Co., 451 Washington street Boston, owners of the copyright. e ’Twas a calm, still night, and the moon’s pale light Shone soft o’er hill and vale, When friends mute with grief stood around the death-bed, Of my poor lost Lilly Dale. CHorus—Oh Lilly, sweet Lilly, dear Lilly Dale, Now the wild rose blossoms o’er her little green grave *Neath the trees in the flowery vale. Her cheeks, that once glow’d with the rose tint of health, By the hand of disease had turn’d pale, And the death-damp was on the pure white brow Of my poor, lost Lilly Dale. (CHoRUS.) “T go,” she said, ‘‘ to. the land of rest, And ere my strength shall fail, I must tell you where, near my own loved home, You must lay poor Lilly Dale. (CHoRUs.) “Neath the chestnut-tree, where the wild flowers grow, And the stream ripples forth through the vale, Where the birds shall warble their songs in spring, There lay poor Lilly Dale. (CHorvs.) ( } | | —————_— —— vt EEE RS a RL nda ee eI She’s Handsome as a Rose. Copied by permission of Freperick Biome, 861 Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright. Music and words, 35 cents. Vl sing to you a song, And try to please you all; It’s bout a yellow charmer, I met at a fancy ball; She was handsome as a rose, Her eyes were black as sloes’; And when upon her I did gaze, She stole my heart away. CHoRUs—Oh she was such a charmer! I had her for a partner! She was handsome as a rose, Her eyes were black as sloes’, And when upon her I did gaze, She stole my heart away. Now I will her describe As I met her at the ball; She’d a boxing glove upon her head Meant for a waterfall. Her waist was tall and slender, Her feet like a giraffe; And when she took a promenade She made the darkies laugh. (CHoRUs.) I took her to her home, And lingered at the door; Oh! there I felt so happy, as I'd never felt before. I asked her mine to be— She only gave a smile, But, her eyes they pierced me thro’ and thro’, I know she'll yet be mine. (CHORUS.) LITTLE NANNIE! She’s the sweetest of all little lasses, Look at her sitting there, With Grandmother’s cap and glasses, In Grandmother’s old oak chair. Sweet little saucy Nannie, White cap on her golden bair, Regular little Granny, With her dignified air. She’s the sweetest of all little lasses, Look at her sitting there, With Grandmother’s cap and glasses, In Grandmother’s old oak chair. Come to me little Nannie, Sit on my knee now awhile, Shall I tell you a tale, little Nannie? Have you not one smile? Why she’s asleep, my sweet Nannie, 3 Tightly holding my hand. Dustman has taken Grannie, Dustman has taken Grannie To lullaby, lullaby, lullaby, to lullaby land, To lullaby land, to lullaby land. She’s the sweetest of all little lasses, Look at her sitting there, With Grandmother’s cap and glasses, In Grandmother’s old oak chair. Sleep on, my little Nannie, You will be old one day, But then, but then, little Granny, I shall be gone away! God send fond arms to caress you, And bright eyes a sunshine to be, And a warm little heart to bless you, As yours is a blessing to me. She’s the sweetest of all little lasses, Look at her sitting there, With Grandmother’s cap and glasses, In Grandmother’s old oak chair. Ah! look at her sitting there! In Grandmother’s old oak-chair! My little Nannie. : THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. He’s Such a Lovely Waltzer! Copied by permission of E, H. Harprne, 229 Bowery, New York, owner of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents. He tekes me gently round the waist, He holds his arm just so, I place my willing hand in his, And gayly off we go. He’s never weary of the dance, And I’m about the same, And when the music sounds no more, Lery, ‘‘Oh, what a shame!” SpoKEN—Yes, indeed, I’m quite sorry when the dance is over; it seems like waking from a sweet little sleep. Of course my Charlie is the whole cause of it—everybody is aware of that—be- cause you know— CHorus—He’s such a lovely waltzer, So graceful he can go, Oh he’s such a lovely waltzer, My darling dancing beau! Around the floor with many more, We go in wild delight, We think of nothing but the dance, While in the mazy flight. We seem to float upon the air, Like angels from above, And everywhere we take our share, Of music, dance and love. SrpoxeN—Under some circumstances it might not seem so de- lightful, but with him, it’s—well, you can guess now nice it is when I say— (CHORUS.) I can’t endure those old quadrilles, And reels, oh, gracious, don’t, Don’t speak of them; if you insist, I plainly say I won’t. I’m far above those worn out things, They’re much to full of halts, No dance to me can ever bring Such pleasure as the waltz. Sroxen— A Merry Gipsy Girl Again. Copied by permission of Firrn, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, publishers of the music, [ A merry Gipsy girl again, I’m free to rove at will: The woodlands wild, the meadows sweet, The valley and the hill. How poor the proudest roof ye boast To that high-arched dome, Whose boundless circle makes me ‘think The whole wide world my home. Here none can bar the free fresh air, Nor mete out heaven’s light, Nor make the glorious day appear Too near akin to night. Amid the beauties of the mead My summer days are spent, And joyfully the stars look down Upon my Gipsy tent; And joyfully the stars ‘look down Upon my Gipsy tent, ~ I wander freely as the fawn Which hath not learnt to fear The death-cry of the hunter’s voice Resounding far and near; And bounding through the woods I feel As if I too could soar, Bird-like, upon the wings of joy, And sing forevermore! Come out, ye pent-up toilers! come From city. dark and drear, And see what gladness Nature has In all her beauties here; And ere ye seek your homes, yell say, Your time has well been spent, And wish that all the world could be, One happy Gipsy tent; And wish that all the world could be One happy Gipsy tent. ) { \ { \ \ \ { | | In fact [am welshed when I fancy I’m right, \ ( ) { ( ) | \ ( ) See PNET Se ee eo) Ps a eS LP PN ne acne ne RE a Re Oe I a AP I PI Seale eee Her Front Name is “Hannar.” Copied by permission of O. Drrson & Co., 451 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright. Music and words, 30 cents. The heart in my bosom has lately been stol’d, By a sweet blushing maiden just forty years old, She’s a half Irish blonde, and she likes pork and beans, Her feet are a feature, she wears seventeens. CHORUS. Her front name is Hannar, her father’s a tanner, But him she does hammer in an artistic manner, She sings Star-spangled Banner, and Aileen Alanner, With a tooth-brush I fan her when she thumps the pianner. Her ‘‘ more antique pull-back ” cost six cents a yard, Sacque, hat, gloves and parasol forty-six cents, She shall be a lady like Bridget O’Grady, For I’ve wealth to get and don’t mind the expense. (CHO. ) Her mouth—well, it stretches from ear to ear, A better provision store never was found, I’ve never kiss’d her, I’m afraid to go near, Vd surely fall in then I know I’d be drowned. (CHOo.) ——__+-4—___—— JACK’S YARN. Published by C. H. Dirson & Co., N. Y. Music and words, 35 cents. ’Twas a Monday night, the moon was shinin’ bright, The winds had been a-blowin’ all the day, We was sittin’ in a ring, an’ Lor’ how we did sing, I reckon you’d ha’ heard us ’cross the bay. I'd sung 0’ Black-eyed Sue, who was so fond an’ true, When we hears a sort o’ splashin’ in the sea, © An’ a nigger then we spied, scramblin’ up the starboard side, An’ he tumbled on the deck in front 0’ we. CHORUS. Hillee, haullee, hillee ho, hillee, haullee, hillee he, The ship’s a-sailin’ on the sea, An’ ev’ry jolly Jack will soon be comin’ back, Singin’ haullee, hillee, haullee, hillee ho, The tears were on his cheek, he sobb’d an’ couldn’t speak, He show’d us where his back were torn an’ scored, He clutch’d us one an’ all, he trembled like to fall When he saw the white-faced planter come aboard. Then our Cap’v he up-stood, so noble, proud an’ good, An’ the poor old nig were at his knee; ‘“« Ey’ry man is free,” he cries, “where the British color flies, Av’ ’ll never give him up,” says he. (CHORUS.) Then the planter he grew pale, an’ like a cur turn’d tail, As quickly down the side went he, Or on our British deck, he’d soon ha’ found his neck; An’ the poor slave was free. So here’s good luck an’ life to our Cap’n an’ his wife, God bless’n for his noble words say we, For to free the slaves Britannia rules the waves, An’ that’s being mistress of the sea. (CHORUS.) My Dear Little Mollie Malone. BY J. J. HOLLAND, 1 am thinking to-night of a beautiful isle, Far away on the oceau’s blue breast, Where often in childhood’s sweet hour I have played— Tis old Erin the land [ love best, But, dearer than all recollections to me, That come from afar o’er the foam, Are the thoughts of the one who in dreams I oft see } "Tis my dear little Mollie Malone. Many days now have passed since her sweet face I saw, And beheld in her beautiful eye, The tears as they rolled down her soft rosy cheek, While she whispered, ‘‘dear Dermot, good-by.” But to better my fortune I crossed the blue sea, In hopes that I might find a home, ; Where in happiness, pleasure and peace I might dwell With my sweet little Mollie Malone. : “ th RR THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. 44 | oe Ah! since then I have wandered afar o’er the earth, And many bright faces I’ve seen, But there’s none can compare with the one far away, ) On my own little island of green. \ And oft in the quiet of a fine summer’s eve, \ As I sit at my window alone, { My thought wanders back to my own native land, And my dear little Mollie Malone, Then to-morrow, Columbia, forever farewell! Farewell, glorious Land of the free! Once more I will roam o’er the dark ocean’s foam, To my emerald isle in the sea. And there I will rest till life’s journey is o’er— With one whom I'll soon call my own; She's a sweet little darling, the pride of my heart, My dear little Mollie Malone! The Lake-Side Shore. Suminer’s breath is lightly falling On the silent waters blue, And the moonbeams bright are sporting With the drops of glittering dew; Hark! away upon the waters There’s a sound of dipping oar, And a boat-song loudly chanted, Echoes down the lake-side shore. Now the night-bird’s song comes floating Sweetly down the midnight air, Waking all the depths, to listen To the birds that thus should dare To break the weird and solemn stillness, That had reign’d so long before, In the wood, and mead, and valley, On the silent lake-side shore. Now the song comes swelling bolder, And the boatman’s chant is heard, Louder o’er the distant waters, As it would outvie the bird; But each song at last is finish’d, And the bird to rest once more, Leaves no sound to break the quiet Of the happy lake-side shore. — oS OO OO OCT aa Who can say there is no pleasure Thus to walk the night alone, Listening to the night-bird’s music, Or the boatman’s solemn tone? Where is there a spot more lovely, Where the vail of night hangs o’er? Where another place more lovely Than this silent lake-side shore? 7 Pretty Blue-Eyed Belle. SONG AND DANCE, BY JOHNNIC CURTIS. I know a darling little dear, Who holds my heart in keeping, She’s pretty as a red, red rose, And haunts me when I’m sleeping. She does not seem to care for me, The reason I cannot.tell; The only girl [ ever loved, Is this blue-eyed little belle. Cuorus—She’s just as sweet as the flowers, That grow down in the dell; She is all the world to me, My blue-eyed little belle. I often go to see this belle, On a pleasant summer’s day; I would she was only mine, She is so bright and gay. She does not even smile at me, The reason I can’t tell; It almost breaks my heart, to part, From this blue-eyed little belle. (CHORUS.) | | | | 3 TS ee TO THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. Let me kiss him for his mother, ‘ : GRAVE OF BONAPARTE. What though left a stranger here! Copied by permission of Ottver Drrson & Co., 451 Washington street» She has loved him as none other oston, owners of the copyright. I feel her blessing near . ) On a lone barren isle, where the wild roaring billows Though cold that form lies sleeping, ) Assail the stern rock and the loud tempests rave, Sweet angels watch around; ‘i ) The hero lies still, while the dew drooping willows, Dear friends are near thee weeping, A Like fond weeping mourners lean’d over the grave; Oh, lay him gently down. (CHORUS.) The lightnings may flash and the loud thunders rattle, es aa : He heeds not, he hears not, he’s free from all pain, Let as kiss him for his mother, He sleeps his last sleep, he has fought his last battle, I Or per’ chanics a sister dear; No sound can awake him to glory again, ta ser aot nee i No sound can awake him to glory again. Then Ge hettor hin ee. Yet, spirit immortal, the tomb can not bind thee, *T will soothe her after-years; For like thine own eagle that soar’d to the sun, Farewell, dear stranger brother, ' & Thou springest from bondage, and leavest behind thee Our requiem, our tears. (CHORUS.) A name, which before thee no mortal had won. Though nations may combat, and war’s thunders rattle, cee gies a aces ; No more on the steed wilt thou sweep o’er the plain, . Thou sleep’st thy last sleep, thou hast fought thy last battle, 4 No sound can awake thee to glory again, : ; MILL MAY. 3 No sound can awake thee to glory again. The strawberries grow in the mowing, Mill May, oe Oh, shade of the mighty, where now are the legions, And the bob-o’-link sings on the tree; That rush’d but to conquer when thou led’st them on? bie knolls ae eee _ is ewe, Mill May, +4 Alas! they have perish’d in far hilly regions, 1en come to the meadow with me! ag And all save the fame of their triumph is "gone. We'll pick the ripe clusters among the deep grass, rey The trumpet may sound, and the loud cannon rattle, On the knolls in the mowing, Mill May, They heed not, they hear not, they’re free from all pain; And the long afternoon together we'll pass They sleep their last sleep, they have fought their last battle, Where the clover is growing, Mill May. 1) No sound can awake them to glory again, Come! come, ere the season is over, Mill May, A No sound can awake them to glory again. To the fields where the strawberries grow, , i While the thick-growing stems and the clover, Mill May, i a: Shall meet us wherever we go; We'll pick the ripe clusters among the deep grass, a THREE BELLS. On the knoll in the mowing, Mill May, 4 i ; : And the long afternoon together we’ll pass, ; 4 swell - ee es proud refrain, Where the clover is growing, Mill May. i e signs of noble deeds; ; ; 1 ~~ — men ra = ocean's wave eee S ee ee ae Mill May, i in fame’s most wor’ meeds! : 3 Ne And high to-day, in Batetl lay, And your lip the strawberry leave on it, Mill May, ’Mid music’s witching spells, A tint that the sea-shell would grace; Let lip bless that good shi . Then come! the*ripe clusters among the deep grass 4 Spravd Chightin'd ship, Three Bells. We'll pick in the mowing, Mill May, : i fants And the long afternoon together we’ll pass, ee Cxorus—Oh, the good ship, Three Bells! Where the clover is growing, Mill May. 2 Oh, the good ship, Three Bells! f ; t With her sturdy crew, " i And her captain true, 3 That man the good Three Bells! —- When storms came down with blackest frown, DOWN THE RIVER. } And woke the ocean’s wrath; Oh! the river is up, and the channel is deep, a. And one lost bark in tempest dark, And the wind blows steady and strong; Lay in the mad wind’s path; Let the splash of your oars the measure keep, j Heaven, pleased to prove that human love As we row the old boat along. ; 3 In Albion’s bosom dwells, Oh! the water is bright, and flashing like gold, - * Turn’d to that wreck, that death-swept deck, In the ray of the morning sun, Brave Crighton’s ship, Three Bells. (CHORUS.) And old Dinah’s away up out of the cold, P id by-day, th kd: al A-getting the hoe-cake done. any Beas rede aie tee re See Oh! the river is up, and the channel is deep, When from the wave they strive to save And the wind blows steady and strong; * A sinking vessel’s crew; ? Let the splash of your oars the measure keep, ees a. : A shout rose high, ‘All saved!” they cry, As we row the old boat along. \ ; Hark how the pean swells! Cuorus—Down the river, down the river, a : Till earth’s far bound rings with the sound, Down the Ohio; Z ae “‘ God bless the ship, Three Bells!” (CHorus.) Down the river, down the river, ~- / Down the Ohio. es i ae a ‘Down the river, down the river, G . ; Down the Ohio; ; £ Let Me Kiss Him for His Mother. te aap ae esa own. i 5 iebnud a an peers al i mee; 2 Oh! the master is proud of the old broad-horn, I wi vi Bee fee: sMechaiier ae For it brings him plenty of tin; - { And seek her blessing now. Z Oh! the crew they are darkies, the cargo is corn, ; ay And the money comes tumbling in. wae coun oe ae There is plenty on board for the darkies to eat, é , : Pe Reonthaine sean writto ee And there’s something to drink and to smoke; ‘ Boe a : Oko lav Bink aie ‘ioe! There’s the banjo, the bones, and the tambourine, . = Eel ees, 3 There’s the song, and the comical joke. ( : = Nes CxHorus—Sleep, dearest, sleep; Oh! the river is up, and the channel is deep, ay I love you as a brother; And the wind blows steady and strong; ‘ b pear Kind friends around you weep, Let the splash of your oars the measure keep, y Bi Fn 6 T’ve kiss’d you for your mother. As we row the old boat along. (CHORUS.) ° 4 en EE -* os Pr aa ee OS THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. \ eee——e—or—ererw—ener eee, ee eee Svan an aun cman Where There’s a Will There’s a Way. Published by E. H. Harpina,.229 Bowery, N. Y. Music and words, 10 cents. This life is a difficult riddle, For how many people we see With faces as long as a fiddle, That ought to look shining with glee. Jam sure in this world there are plenty Of good things enough for us all, And yet there’s not one out of twenty, But thinks that his share is too small. Cuorus Then what is the use of repining, For where there’s a will there’s a way, And to-morrow the sun may be shining, J Although it is cloudy to-day. Did you never hear tell of the spider That tried up the wall hard to climb? If not, just take that as a guider, Yow’'ll find it will serve you in time. Nine times it tried hard to be mounting, And every time it stuck fast, But it tried hard again without counting, And of course it succeeded at last. (CHoRvus.) Some grumble because they’re not married, And can not procure a good wife, While others they wish they had tarried, And long for a bachelor’s life. To me it is very bewild’ring, Some grumble—it must be in fun— Because they have too many children, And others because they have none. (CHORUS.) Do you think that by sitting and sighing ‘You'll ever obtain all you want? It’s cowards alone that are crying, And foolishly saying ‘TI can’t.” It’s only by plodding and striving, And laboring up the steep hill Of life, that you’ll ever be thriving, Which you'll do if you’ve only the will. (CHorRvs.) ane, GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD. They grew in beauty side by side, They fill’d one home with glee; Their graves are sever’d far and wide, By mount, and stream, and sea. The same fond mother bent at night, O’er each fair sleeping brow; She had each folded flower in sight— Where are those dreamers now? One midst the forest of the West By a dark stream is laid; The Indian knows his place of rest, Far in the cedar shade. The sea, the blue, lone sea hath one, He lies where pearls lie deep; He was the loved of all, yet: none O’er his low bed may weep. One sleeps where southern vines are dress’d, Above the noble slain; He wound his colors round his breast, On a blood-red field of Spain. And one—o’er her the myrtle showers Its leaves by soft winds fann’d; She faded ’midst Italian flowers, The last of that fair band. And parted thus, they rest, who play’d Beneath the same green tree; Whose voices mingled, as they pray’d Around one parent knee. ‘ They that with smiles lit up the hall, And cheer’d with song the hearth— Alas! for loved, if thou art all, And naught beyond, oh earth. \ SESS Cero LITTLE MAGGIE MAY. Published by Freprrick Biume, 861 Broadway, New York. Music and words, 35 cents. The spring had come, the flow’rs in bloom, The birds sung out their lay, Down by a little running brook, I first saw Maggie May; She had a roguish jet-black eye, Was singing ail the day, And how I lov’d her none can tell, My little Maggie May. CHoruUs—My little witching Maggie, Maggie singing all the day; Oh! how I Jove her none can tell, My little Maggie May. Though years roll’d on, yet still I lov’d With heart so light and gay, And never will this heart deceive, My own dear Maggie May; When others thought that life was gone, And death would take away, Still by my side did linger one, And that was Maggie May. (CHoRvs.) May Heav’n protect me for her sake, I pray both night and day, That I ere long may call her mine, My own dear Maggie May. For she is all the world to me, Altho’ I’m far away; - I oft-times think of the running brook, And my little Maggie May.» (CHorus.) a THE NEWFOUNDLAND DOG. Life-saver!—wave-stemmer!—deep-diver! away! Night’s shadows are closing the portals of day; On the breast of the billow we hear his low wail; We have put up the rudder and furled up the sail. No signal from heaven will show where he be, And where’er he is driven we men cannot see. Ho! Carlo! Newfoundland! go follow his cry, As it gaspingly answers the sea-moaner’s sigh, The boat shall be lowered, the men shall delay— Life-saver!—wave-stemmer !—deep-diver! away! Away! fetch him out! fetch him up! seize him! ho! Mount the wave, dog! mount the wave, dog! ha! down, down below! Hark! watch! bear a hand! bring a light—not a sound! Bring a light! hark! there’s a moan. Yes, the waves moaning over the drowned. God’s spirit preserve him, amen and amen. Hist! a flash—and a motion—ha, Carlo! ha, Carlo! again, Good dog, then, good dog, then, bear a hand, then, pull tight, A boat-hook, a boat-hook, he’s in and all’s right, Come, Carlo, quick, follow, fine fellow, hard strife, Wave-stemmer! deep-diver! we owe you a life! oe Maggie by my Side. Copied by permission of Firra, Ponp & Co., Music Publishers, 547 Broad- way, New York, owners of the copyright. The land of my home is flitting, flitting from my view, A gale in the sail is sitting, toils the merry crew; Here let my bome be, on the waters wide I roam with a proud heart, Maggie’s by my side, CHoRUS—My own loved Maggie, dear, sitting by my side, Maggie, dear, my own love, sitting by my side. The wind howling o’er the billow from the distant lea, The storm raging ’round my pillow brings no care to me Roll on, ye dark waves o’er the troubled tide, I heed not your anger, Maggie’s by my side. (CHORUS. ) Storms can appall me never while her brow is clear, Fair weather lingers ever where her smiles appear; When sorrow’s breakers ’round my heart shall hide, Still may I find her sitting by my side. (CHorRvs.) y e geste. 13% | \ | | | | | | | ( ( | \e ( 14 EHE- SINGER'S. 4GEBRARY: Kiss Me Quick and Go. - I'm thinking on the past, dear Annie, Thy locks were bright as gold, The other night while I was sparking Thy smile was soft, but now, dear Annie, ie Sweet Turlina Spray, Our hearts seem growing old. The more we whisper’d our love talking, Yet ’tis not time has stole the blossoms . The more we had to say; From off thy cheek so fair, ) ’ The old folks and the little folks *Twas winter come too soon upon us, ) We thought were fast in bed— And chilled the flowerets there. (CHORUS.) { We heard a footstep on the stairs, : 7 And what d’ye think she said? I’m leaving thee, but weep not, Annie, For when I’ve passed yon sea, Cuorus—‘“ Oh! kiss me quick and go, my honey, I'll gather hope and comfort, Annie, ( Kiss me quick and go! And bring them back to thee. To cheat surprise and prying eyes, I’m leaving thee in sorrow, Annie, = Why kiss me quick and go!” I’m leaving thee in tears, It may be for a long time, Annie, Soon after that I gave my love Perhaps for many years. (CHORUS.) A moonlight promenade, : At last we fetch’d up to the door Ye Just where the old folks stay’d; — The clock struck twelve, her heart struck two (too), And peeping overhead, We saw a night-cap raise the blind, illie’ And what d’ye think she said? (CHoRus.) Willie’ll Roam no More. : : Yes, Mary, I have come, love, across the dark, blue sea, I baring? og yee ane, To our peaceful, quiet home, our little ones and thee; } Taxb Hid too ectlted loa teac ot cabbage T've watch’d and waited nightly for the welcome hour to come, ) f 47 tha aunahi nee itiaa : a When happily and brightly all the dear delights of home { My heart with love Sua nigh to split Sbould greet my listening ear, love, upon my native shore; ( To ask her for to wed, Then wipe away thy tears, Mary, for thy Willie’ll roam no more, ( Said I: ‘“ Shall I go for the priest?” CHORUS. : And what d’ye think she said? (Corvus. ) Thy Willie’ll roam no more, thy Willie’ll roam no more, { ° Then wipe away thy tears, Mary, for thy Willie’ll roam no more, | | roe a 4 How often since I left you, love, in solitude and tears, The Lass that T; oves a Sail or. Have eee love which clung to me through many chang- S; ; : ) The moon on the ocean was dimmed by a ripple, And while I paced the silent deck, forgotten and alone, ( Affording a checkered light. Has my heart recall’d thy love-lit smile, thy sweet and gentle J . ( The gay jolly tars passed the word for a tipple, _ tone. ; b nigh : } And the toast—for ’twas Saturday night. Thy image, love, has e’er been shrined within this fond heart’s Some sweetheart or wife core; es He loved as his life, But wipe away thy tears, Mary, for thy Willie’ll roam no more, Each drank, and he wished he could hail her; (CHorRus.) But the standing toast, Dear Mary, when in life’s sweet morn, in all thy youthful pride, That pleased the most, I bore thee, virgin, bathed in tears, from thy fond mother’s side, Was the wind that blows, And promised at the altar to love through life as now, I. The ship that goes, Say, Mary, when life’s sorrows came, did I forget that vow? And the lass that loves a sailor. Your heart will own I left you, love, our fortunes to restore, . * Then wipe away thy tears, Mary, for thy Willie’ll roam no more, Some drank his country, and some her brave ships, (CHoRUs. ) 4 ) And some the Constitution; ( ; Some, may the French, and all such rips, Yield to American resolution. f That fate might bless ; ° . \ isms Pell or Bebe, Have You Seen My Sister ? ieee And that they soon might hail her; ; ‘ : ( 3 i But the standing toast, ete. Say, my lovely friends, have you any pity Q 3 : At your finger-ends? then listen to my ditty. Some drank the navy, and some our land, Our Kate has gone away, last Thursday night we miss’d her; This glorious land of freedom: Good people do not smile—say, ‘Have you seen my sister?” (ff | se } Some that our tars may never want ; ; ei a Heroes brave to lead them: If you have her seen, I hope you will advise her \ ‘ That she wherein’ distress may find To return to me, or I must advertise her; Such friends that ne’er will fail her; Her waist is very thick, her stays give her a twister, But the standing toast, ates Now tell me, b’hoys and g’hals, ‘‘ Have you seen my sister?” f a 4 ! She squints with both her eyes, in a manner very shocking, he 4 ; +04 | She’s got a mouth for pies, and wears no shoes or stockings; { } | I’m afraid she’s gone astray, and some chap did enlist her, { : a : : ‘ I’m afraid she’s gone for good; say, ‘‘ Have youseen my sister?” q I’m Leaving Thee in Sorrow, Annie. Peete ; z Ua 5 e ; She wants her two front teeth, you’d see it when she'd titter, ( a Pm leaving thee in Sorrow, Annie, She’s got such little feet, Victoria’s shoes won’t fit her; ( a I’m leaving thee in tears; _ She wears no cap at all, but a great big muslin whister, r ss It may be for a long time, Annie; Now tell me once for all, ‘‘ Have you seen my sister?” ( Perhaps for many years. r ii But ’tis more kind to part now, dearest, Her figure’s straight and tall, her conduct’s very proper, ) z Than linger here in pain, She’s well provided for, she’s eighteen pence in copper. ) a a To weep o’er joys that once were shining, Now if you have her seen, you never could forget her, ; » pak nf But ne’er may shine again. For she’s very much like me; now, ‘‘ Have you seen my sister?” aN Ni = ! : Cuorus—I’m leaving thee, but weep not, Annie, Her mouth is very small, her nose is straight and natty, 4 "i patie Vl come back yet to thee, I tell you once for all, this girl is very pretty. { es : And bring some hope and comfort, Annie, Now lll sing you another song, and it shall be a twister, 5 wee To one so dear to me. If you will go with mo, and help me find my sister. t tae « : : ry : o y vow $.: 4 i * 4 ' ert ‘ a a TSS EE ee eee TOS THE SINGER'S LIBRARY. RS —~ Sn {5 a Rt Oe S SINGER’S LIBRARY NOTES. [2¥"_Accepted: Songs by Harry Burns, of Pittsburg. ‘That Gal o’ Mine;” ‘‘ Guess What it is Before You Can Have It;” ‘ An- swer to ‘Grease the Griddle?” ‘ Away O’er the Stream We Go!” ‘A Prince of Boys, You Know;’ ‘Barney Let Cigars Alone;” “Och, May the Bliss be Decavin’;” ‘‘Tarry O’Rarey;” ‘‘The Lone Loon on the Lake.” (2° 'To Correspondents.—‘ The Little Old Thatched Cot- tage” is not in good rhythm for song. It is of unequal lines and quite rough in measure, in places. A good song should at least be singable in the uniformity of its accent and meter. W.P.C. Weare always pleased to receive good original songs. Your Banjo Solo will be very acceptable. Gro..H. E. The songs you name we presume will, in time, be included in the LisraRy, unless they are copyrights which the owners refuse. to permit to be used—of which, we are happy to say, there are very few instances. Harry H. We file for use all the songs inclosed. They are well worded, timely, and will be acceptable to singers. One is not asong, but a poem, and this we will try and reproduce in the SATURDAY JOURNAL. SrePHEN G. We return the composition—not deeming it desir- able to give place to political or personal songs. As to song com- position, please read what is said above in regard to rhythm, etc. W.F. L. Your songs are very crude, and we surmise are copied, to some extent, from other songs. The song, ‘‘ Dear Heart, I Know I’m Growing Old,” is, we believe, a transcript of one of Mr. HE. HE. Rexford’s fine poems. {@¥° Authors must keep copies of songs sent in for insertion. .We cannot be bothered to returnethose which are unavailable. (2° For songs chosen from among those offered as Original contributions to the SmncER’s Lisrary, see the ‘‘ Accepted ” list. We will receive with pleasure these offerings, and here suggest, to Amateurs as well as Professionals, that there is no surer road to popularity for their names than to be known as the author of “taking” and pleasing songs. The wide publicity which we can eve to worthy and effective pieces well repays the effort to write em. (2¥° We beg our original contributors to avoid, in their contri- butions to the Stncrr’s Liprary, any thing that is vulgar or blasphemous. .We shall rigidly discard all so tainted. Nor do we desire to have political or merely local songs. Only send us what you know will be generally acceptable and unobjectionable. » (ay- As announced in the beginning of this enterprise of Songs for the People and Music for the Million, we cheerfully respond to the talent in this country for song-writing by opening our Lrprary to those seeking the Voice of Types for their composi- tions, and may now reprint the previous notice, viz.: Singers, Amateurs, and Artistes having songs that are popular, which they wish to appear in print, will confer a favor by submitting them to the publishers of the SINcER’s Lisrary, which it is their purpose to make a Perfect Repository of the Best Songs, Old, New, Copy- rights, and Originals. {tax Weare in receipt of a considerable number of ORIGINAL Sones from both professionals and amateurs. As far as seems practicable we give a hearing to these contributions to the Sinc- gR’s LIBRARY, and think they will be received by song-lovers with much satisfaction. Some doubtless will become quite popular, for they are happy compositions. We shall, hereafter, make a fea- ture of these Original offerings, not as a distinct department, but by giving them place in the Liprary, with the proper credit to the author. This will add to the already pleasant variety and scope of THE Havr-Dime Sincer’s Lisrary, which now ‘is: re- garded with evident favor by all lovers of Song and Lyric Litera- ture, BGHADLE _ {2% Writers of songs must be very careful that what they send in is original. To copy the work of another is not permissible. It is a violation of copyright, and is sailing under faise colors. (@¥" Quite a number of contributions come in such a crude shape, that, although they may be good songs to sing, we cannot give them the necessary revision to put them in shape for printer’s copy. We therefore suggest that those unaccustomed to the writ- ing of verse, and to contributing for publication, call in the services of some friend who can readily make correct printer’s copy and perhaps add to the excellence of the song by giving a little ‘polish” of word, rhyme, or expression that will make it all the more effective. Many good songs are conceived by those who can- not write them out properly for publication, and such composers should not hesitate to ask the friendly assistance necessary to put their sentiment in the proper shape. Toour numerous friends who write suggesting that we select for the Liprary this or that particular song, we answer generally —hbe patient; we shall try and include, sooner or later, every good lyric, song, glee, ballad, chorus, and stage extravaganza in this collection. As we give about sixty selections in each number, the Liprary soon will embrace in its list of contents every thing most likely to be sought for. [29> We may repeat, what has already been said, that the songs” of the best writers will be given in each issue of the SinGuR’s Liprary, viz.: Danks, Foster, Russell, Hays, Skelly, Newcomb, Work, Frank Howard, Nash, Paul, Turner, Harrigan, John Reed, Rexford, Straight, Dexter Smith, Cooper, Dempster, Hood, Tom Moore, Dibdin, Cornwall, Morris, Byron, Burns, Sep Winner, Rollin Howard, Larry Tooley, etc. {a> Let us also add to what is promised in the above that the most ‘‘taking ” songs of Gus Williams, Tony Pastor, Lydia Thomp- son, E. H. Harding, Lotta, D. 8S. Wambold, Dave Reed, Billy Emerson, Vivian Lingard, Frank Wilder, Annie Louise Kellogg, Ada Richmond, Edward Harrigan, etc., etc., and all of the best minstrel and variety troupe specialties, as sung throughout the pee States, will be included in the Hatr-Dimm SineEr’s IBRARY. tae It is but proper to remind all patrons of the SrvGER’s Liprary and lovers of song that we shall give an InpEx to Sones in Number Twenty-Siw.. This will make the collection up in a fine volume, richly worthy of preservation and binding. All who take the Liprary should carefully preserve the numbers with reference to having them either fully Beane. in substantial covers (which they well merit) or to be stitched or strung in ‘‘ cases” which now are much used in lieu of regular binding, for papers and periodi- cals. This volume, containing, as it will, about FIFTEEN HUNDRED popular, favorite, standard, copyright and original songs, of every class and kind, will assuredly be AN ENCYCLOPA:DIA OF SONG. (@e~ It is hardly necessary to add, after what has already been indicated in the several issues of this publication already before the public, that« the Leading Music Publishers in America and England will supply their newest and choicest songs to the HaLr- Dimer Sincer’s LrsraRy—which thus becomes the only publica- tion in America that opens their splendid repertoire to the public, at a nominal price. (@¥" Since the Hatr-Dmre Sineur’s Liprary is the cheapest Song Publication in America, and sold by all newsdealers at a half-dime for each issue, or is sent, post-paid, by the publishers to any address for six cents per number, or is supplied to subscribers —ten consecutive numbers for fifty cents, post-paid—it is thus brought within the reach of every lover of song in the land. So much, in such fair form and available shape, never before was given for the money. ¢ ADAMS, Publishers, No. 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. TS OO TE TE -AS-YT- ~ | | | / ( ( ( | { | Half-Dime Singer's Library. ba] Beadle’s Contents of No. 1. Whoa, Emma (new version), Ten minutes too late, Miss Gruber’s boarding house, See that my sos 's ere green, The oe in the moon is looking, lov + Twit or9 stools a man goes to the ground Let the ee alone, They all do it, My pretty red rose, Rose of iNarney, apa you’ve been a bad boy, hoa, “Emma (original veriiony eget’ Cabri el, ‘Come, awa’ wi’ me, The rai oa engineer’s song, Molly Bawn, Cheer, boys, chee: I knew that I aa parwarihiig: Auld lang syne, “ Clicquot,” paniane ‘an ayour flowing bowl, «A good time coming, The nighthnbalers trill, Co-ca-che-lunk, Poor Jack, Hoop-la, Under the willow she’s sleeping, They ene but never return, Sweet b: by ee 0 Ray 7 bir hy can’t I have a beau? Roll oat! heave dat cotton, The butcher boy, aan for papa, ay an Y, The hazel raph - The vacant chai, Tom Bowling, I muse on thee, Pull down your vest, Rhine vine Sharley, Who will care for mother now? Heather Jock, “Crooked walt French and English, . Juliana Jones, Barbara Allan, ready, Jim, ‘the carter lad, The drunkard’s raggit wean! Twinkling stars, The Marseilles a little bed, ish squire, Put me in m The old En Lord Lovel, Billy Larkin. Contents of No, 2. Captain Cuff, You make Fm laugh, When the rater to ony? My vife in . wawrally thi Babylon is fallen, rhe eee 1 home, Dand: ee, Beautiful ‘ices, A cushla gal mochree, Robinson Crusoe, eae by one they crossed the er, The. march of the Cameron John Chi ohn Chinaman, Bitter beer, The style in which it’s done, Pear The five cen shave, Jimmy’s wooing, Gentle Jennie ray, I’m looking at you now, I know when I’ve enough, George Constantine McKeown, The merry widow, hee oh DER EgAD light guard, Norah, Me pride of Kildare, Sweet vision of childhood, Home again, Shall we ever meet again? a get more like your dad every ay, The pCa chant, Take it, Dandy barber Joe, Captain Spike of the musketeers Limburger sheese, Uncle Tom’s lament, Within a mile of Edinboro’, -Rockaby, Lullaby, The cork'le iy The soldier's tear, I’m lonely jsinceé my mother 11 down the blin at pore all the wild without rT The king’s highway, Captain Jinks, The 0's and the Mc’s, A motto for every man, Pes bright smile haunts rm a b’ho Little waxed ee ape ety nhon, Contents of No 3 The Gainsboro’ hat, Hildebrandt Montrose, Mary McGinn: I do feel so Dili loose, Is there any such place? Cackle, cackle, cackle, Bold Robin Hoo d, He isn’t as rich as he used to be, Bryan O’Lynn, He was such a nice young man, Human nature Billy Grimes, the rover, Sing! sing! sing! Terrance Muldoon, The fireman’s boy, The summer of love, The runaway mare, Peter Gray, Mary of the wild moor, Song of the locomotive, Coaxing with a kiss, Lager beer song, Our army and navy of blue, The roast beef of old England, Massa’s in de Wee ee The timid awkward squad! Nancy Lee, @ Pink dominoes, The boulevard, f{t’s nice, Mine host! mine host! come, etc. Tl be acre for you at, etc. My brudder God bless the elittle church, etc. Only a flower there, The low back’d car, It’s naughty, but it’s nice, Ilove my native land, The eines are comin’, I’m in it The Faken boy, Mary Avourneen, The fighting dog, Red, white and blu When the flowers fall asleep, Wake! Dinah, wake. The brave old oak, Yankee ship, and a Yankee crew, Camptown races, Why have my loved ones gone? A national song, The blarney, tohe says may, Sprig of shillelah, S) al we Toh each other there? Good-by, Old fol at nova Father will settle ‘the bill, Whisper it softly, Hail to the chief, Little maid of Arcadee, Juanita, Never despair. Contents of No, 4. J Johnny Morgan “Fifth avenue George,” The king of trumps, - Broadway genes Little green vail, Oh! you pretty Bue. eyed witch, ee deo 2, Theo ocean burial, The Brooklyn After toiling cometh rest, The miller of the dee, A starry night for a ramble, Pop goes the weasel, “Our boys, The minute gun at sea, Down the shadowed lane she goes Lather and shave, Good-by, Charlie, Good-by till I see yous again, The other side of Jordan, Mollie Brady, Par excellence, Few Saye, Row, In her e Ttttle bed” we laid her, Iam waiting, Essie dear, You never miss the water, etc. “T cannot sing the old songs,” Whisperings of love, The old oaken bucket which hung in the well, Bashful youn, an, “Put the brake on when, etc. The rollicking old man, There are kisses waiting for me, Blolghing with iny git, eig! with my gir The monks of o] 1d, Home, sweet home Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, Hard times, Rory O’Moore, — Auld Robin Gray, Old Rosin the Beau, The fine old Ee gentleman, The fine old Dutch gentleman, The fine old Lrish gentleman, The noe and the fly, Blue-e pied violets, Ros e, a Soci, o "oa nto. ri pring, sen e’sprin, Over the left, Bet ~ Pies mekihag succeeds like The snookinig bird, The stylish servant girl, Star-spangled banner, pels was a dnd The Irish regiment. Ridin’ in a allroad keer, ene peice sti ley. FIFTY OR MORE SONGS IN Contents of No. 5. I'll strike you with a feather, Haunting eyes, The star that leads to thee, Flow gently, sweet Afton, The household clock, Come to the ole gum tree, Sleeping, I dreamed love, “Our laddie’s dead, Jem,” Oh! I shall call dada, Buttercups and daisies, Fair Rosabelle, Annie Laurie, Call her ani and kiss her, *Tilda Horn, *Twas like a spirit’s sigh, Bessy was a sailor’s bride, My heart’s in the Highlands, socky, hat and feather, Say, bird of summer, Jeannette and Jeannot, ’Twas rank and fame, The answer A sailor’s life for me, he way to be b e way to appy, Uncle Ned, The pirate’s cee? Battle of the ke; Silver moonligh: sea, Isle of renuby “Sparkling Piper Heidesick,” No one to love, He led her to the altar, Come where the moonbeams, etc. The belle of the ball, he Punoyi sunny smile, etc. hip a-h My dear ne mother, Be sure you’re right, etc. aon ate that tree, Ten o’cloc remember, etc. My eye and betty Martin, Sword of Bunker Hill, Kate Kearney, Answer to Kate Kearney, The sea king’s burial, Good news from home. Since Terry first joined the gang, A bit of my min I never refuse, The old man’s got to go, Lord Bateman and fair ‘Sophia, To the love of my youth, etc. Eulalie, Don’t marry your mother-in-law, True blue, and seventy-two, A thousand a year, Twenty years ago, Rather too “heavy” for me, Be ee to thy father and mother, Jamie! Gentle Annie, “Strike the iron while it’s hot.” Contents of No. 6. George, the charmer, Wait till the moonlight falls on the water, oaks “Barleycorn is a hero aca on kissing me, I want to go home to mamma! Kickin; aN oe when he’s down, Nelly Gray, Silver stars are softly gleam- ng, Mulcahy’ s home again, Miss Malony’s ball, “A lock of my mother’s hair,” Alas! my love’s away, Over the mountain, “The scamp,” Answer to a thousand a year, Ben Bolt, Poor old slave, Roger O'Malley, By the sad sea- -waves, Song of Blanche Alpen, Away down ae Sweet 100g B&O The ae lacksmith, Re cn A life on tne ocean wave, Rock me to sleep, mother, Clear the wa: Brown eyes has that little maid- en, Dear mother, I’ve come home to e, Lanigan’s ball, Don’t you daré to kiss me, Joe! Ob, merry hours’ I wish I was in Dixie's land, I’ve only been down to club, The merriest girl ae out, Kat did, a, didn” Finigan’s wak * Unso ophisticated love,” I really don’t think I shall marry, Poor J tet The goat Base-ball, Beautiful dreamer, love i. still the’ same, ‘ee and easy, wary little Did are we, Boy with the auburn hair, Evangeline Vegetable ni oe, Her pretty, smiling face, Never venture, never win! Ada, with the golden hair, The dashing gay brunette, ‘Vietorine, Castles in the air, The female smuggler, Kind and true. the EACH ISSUE, Contents of No. 7. The belle of Rockaway, Bathing in the surf, Annie of the vale, Awfully awful, Spooning on the sands, Pretty as a picture, meee, dear, ’'m thinking of you That’s the style for me, boys, Little diamond dewdrop, Taffy was a Welshman, Take this letter to my mother, Like a Turk! Never push a man because he’s going doar the hill, America, American vocal melody, The blonde that never Hee Tassels on the boots, My pretty little blonde, The big sunflower, Dat’s der kind of mans I am, Uncle Sam’s farm Remember you have children of your own. He knows how to do it, Winter—sleigh-bell song, What is home peaaD Le a mother, Dreaming and drifting, Bear it like a man, The rollicking rams, spare the griddle,” birdie, Dar- «Pulling hard the stream,” The Mulligan guard, Pretty little primrose, I know you'll be true to me, Robin, The blue and the gray, Thold the winning’ han ae iene coat against d, to your The: Sia folks are poue Oh, George! beautiful George! Oni I’m going home, The little ones at home, Wait for the wagon, The belle of Pleasure bay, Ever, ee a sailor, ‘Would you if you were me? Soe ane, Speak to me, speak, 8 tele to your trade and be true, Widow Machree, fae pea you in my pray- aborts bells, ° Mr. Finagan. Jeremiah, blow the fire, Come, maiden, with me, Contents of No. 8. Young fellah, you’re too fresh, a vod by, to you gladly again, a Eey lovely ou, Up with h the lark in the morning, Awfull ay, ee he yy my side, little dar- The Saisie police in the world! Uncle Pomp’s return, That’s the proper caper, Gall me your paling sgatn, oing home to Dix The ne teetotal society, The candidate for alderman, ao cra Joe, The youie ig widow, The little ones asicep, “Come back to Erin,” he aed Row, wy Our Wall for the turn of the tide, Schak; es Gratzenstein, Nobody’s darling but mine, The city boliceman, Tra-la-la, George! The belle of the day, Pat Roach at the p ay, Willie, we have missed y: When the blossoms are yehite in the orchard, Only speak kindly to me, Muldoon, the solid man, Little more cider, The dear little shamrock, an German enc, ; y own, my guiding star, There is ok harm in kissing, Kitty C Jordan “ hard road to travel, My gal, Hanna, On the beach at Long Branch, rene Brown comes rolling hom The Trish emigrant’s lament, a ae old nigger ball, id I were with thee, The harp and sword of Erin, “ Oh wouid I were a bird!” La-de-da-de Micks, He isn’t a marr ee Don’t give up t ip, Unhappy Jeremiah, Happy Hezekiah, Minnie Rooke, “ Ain’t you awful, #8 Our captain’s last words, My little wife ashore, Brother's fainting at the door, Bobbin’ around, One hundred years, Those dark eyes, Isn’t he a darling? > Sold by all newsdealers, five cents each; or sent, post-paid, to any address, on receipt of six cents per copy. BEADLE & er eee — William Street, N.Y. “a Contents of No, 9. Shy young girl; or, Du-da, da. Dear old words, Kily Darling, Leaning on a balcony, Echoes, She was clerk ina bie Write to m& often, d: Up in a ballon, Fat Mickey, T’ll meet you on Broadwa; The Hills of New England,’ Dermot Astore, The Po isten he leads a happy life, Ever 0: Fritz, wie gehts alleweill Kiss me again, I miss thee so, Shakey Dinkelspiel, ear Ben, the ont, Katy Darl ling, The girl on the wire, Your pocket-book is your, ete. De ole corn mill, My sweet Polywog, Hark! I hear an an} gel sing, The bell goes Sane ‘Brother, ell me of the When the little bi aint ed e old folks we loved lo’ Not before Pa, dear, ee Katie Lee and ‘Willie Gray, The bashful Whisky, you’re = ite divil, an I ove anes asey’s W! sky, -night, Kafoozleum, The gallant brigade! When J. nny. comes marching ete Kitty McGe Hold the fort I wouldn’t iff could, Keep a ee corner in your heart for The fellar t that looks like me, Willa Tet a tree? “De bad “Up a tree!” Come home, father, Chickabiddy, The bird song, Lora Vale, Pretty J emima, don’t say no, “Davy Jones,” Merit commands success, The diamond ring, My own eure land, erate Balm Gilead, store, ae aadle irds are s ou we light of de moon, Plovi ing in the hay, She s of the ocean, The old play ground. BEADLE’S Half-Dime Library. 1 Deadwood Dick, = Yellowstone Jack, 4 Thi Widnes Hunters, e orse Hunt 5 Vagabond Joe, 6 Bill Biddon, tra per, 7 The Flying Yankee, 8 Seth Jones, » 9 The Adventures of Baron Mun. 10 Nat Todd. 11 The Two Detectives, 12 Gulliver’s Travels, 13 The Dumb Spy, 14 Aladdin, 15 The Sea-cat, , ae Crusoe, is § appa the Sailor, 19 The Phantom Spy, 20 The Double Seana ee rae Angel % e Sea Ser: sal 33 Nike o’ the ight, 24 Diamond Dirk ae 25 The Boy Ca 26 Cloven Hoo: oe en the Demoi 3 Abe mM,»