Copyrighted 1878, by BEADLE & Apams. Price, 5 Cents. And Fifty-eight Seifed! 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. CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER. PAGE. PAGE. Nancy Lee 1 | Waiting for the May.. Near the Little Cottage Door. 2| What Soon Name than Thine, Nancy Bell, or Old Pine Tree..... 2|_ Mot The Death.of Annie Laurie... .. 2] whe, ‘the Good Times Come While the Gas is Burning......... Rh Agweh. 4 . STO STR ME eels 9 Kathleen Mavourneen............ 2} John Jones 9 A Dream Of L@V6 is ..i 00 sanee coed 3 | Just Look at That, Just Look at POTHBDS .... ccbccek sb 5 sap eneee 3| This. 9 My Lave, He is a Sailleur Boy. : 8| The Fireman’s Victory. aad ote, aslate 9 The Yellow Rose of Texas. -..... 8| The Fireman’s'Death. .......... 10 I Wandered by the Brookside... 8 | She Frow’d a Kiss at Me. ....... 10 I’m Dancing Mad............0.. -- 4| Comic Katee Darling ........ .. 10 Our Boyhood Days Rp etined 4| Vilikins and His Dinah!......... 10 Oh! the Sea, the 4| My Dearest Heart . ks One More Glass’ Beft Be Kind to Each Other Parting ate The Old Whisky Jug... The Quilting Party .. The Home of the Heart. I Have Something ‘Sweet to ren? T'll Bet You’d Like to Kno 1 You... 42 SAAN AiG. = Give ‘em String and let °em Went 12 My Mother Dear ......2 vdeeeses. | Go It While You're Young... .. 12 The Grave of uy DANO «oss ane a ss 5 Hoop De Do Di Dum............ 12 Olt Martocld «cfr 5 ivene dep vous ¢ The Girl I Left Behind We shag Mary Afleen..........<7sd¥eclPA $ | “I Don’t Have To.’ I Have No Mother, Now.......... 6 | Little Mollie Brown, .. tas Sweet Matilda Brown........... 6 | Dot Holly-Tree Onn cons é Sparking Sarah see hpi deena 7 | Oh! Scorn Not Thy Brother...... Our Fatherland. . 18 Cora Poor Tattle B10; i.e. cilets . ciscex 7 | Parody on ‘*To The West!” .. Come Sit Thee Down. oom | Pretty Jane...+..... The Promenade Elastique. ) 8| Lillie Bell Little Katy, or Hot Corn......... 8 | Darling Jenny Bell. NANCY LEE. Published by E. H. Harpina, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents. Of all the wives as e’er you know, Yeo ho! lads, ho!’ Yeo ho! yeo’ho! There’s none like Nancy Lee, I trow, Yeo ho! lads, ho, yeo ho! See, there she stands an’ waves her hands, upon the quay, An’ ev’ry day when I’m away, she’ll watch for me, An’ whisper iow, when tempests blow, for Jack at sea, Yeo ho! lads, ho! yeo ho! The sailor’s wife, the sailor’s star shall-be, Yeo ho! we go across the The sailor’s wife, the sailor’s star shall be, The sailor’s wife his star shall be. The harbor’s past, the breezes blow, Yeo ho! lads, ho! Yeo ho! yeo ho! Tis long ere we come back I know, Yeo ho! lads, ho! yeo ho! But true an’ bright from morn till night, my home will be, An’ all so neat, an’ snug, an’ sweet, for Jack at sea, An’ Nancy’s face to bless the place, an’ welcome me, Yeo ho! lads, ho! yeo ho! - Etc., etc., ete. The bo’s’n pipes the watch below, Yeo ho! lads, ho! Yeo ho! yeo ho! Then here’s a health afore we go, Yeo ho! lads, ho! yeo ho! A long, long life to my sweet wife, and mates at sea; An’ keep our bones from Davy Jones, where’er we be, An’ may you meet a mate as sweet as Nancy Lee, Yeo ho! lads, ho! yeo ho! Ete., etc., etc. _ THE SINGER'S LIBRARY. — Near the Little Cottage Door. rmi ZAR & DennHorr, 717 Broadway, New York — Eero the: Fe Music and words, 35 cont Do you love me, little darling, Tell me, loved one, is it true? Am Lin your heart the treasure Ihave always been to you? _ Answer me in love-words, darling, For your silence grieves me more— Tll be waiting for your answer, Near the.little cottage door. Crorus—Oh! I'll be waiting for you, darling, For your coming, evermore! Tl be waiting for you, darling, Near the little cottage door. Will you meet me, little darling, At the turnstile as of. yore? Hand in hand we'll be together When we reach the golden shore! And I know you dearly love me; For you’ve told me so before, And I’m sure that you will meet me Near that little cottage door. _(CHORUS.) Nancy Bell, or Old Pine Tree. Oh, darkies, now I’m going to sing, De truth to you I'll tell, Ob happy days dat I hab seen Wid my dear Nancy Bell. Ob, I wish dat I’was back again, *Way down in Tennessee, Wid my dear Nancy by my side, Beneath de old pine tree. Crorus—'Tis many a night since first we met Beneath dat old pine tree, And dar we told our tales ob lub, How happy we should be. My lub has left me long ago, Whar she is, no one can tell, An’ I am nearly crazy now For my dear Nancy Bell; But I drempt last night, when all was still Dat she’d come back to me, An’ I would yet see happy days Beneath de old pine tree. (CHORUS.) I quite forgot I was so old, It seems to me a dream, Dat three-score years hab passt and gone, Since I was seventeen; But ebery t’ing comes right at last, An’ Nancy’s true to me, An when we die, oh, let us rest Beneath de old pine tree. (CHORUS.) painting The Death of Annie Laurie. I sung, when in the Crimea, My bonnie Annie’s praise, My heart then turn’d in exile, To sweet Maxwelton’s braes, To sweet Maxwelton’s braes, But sweet nae mair for me, For I hae seen wi’ anguish, Their fairest blossom dee. When war’s alarms were over, I sought my loved ane’s bower, But death’s cauld breath was blighting, Blighting my bonnie flower. Blighting bonnie flower, And T nae help could gie, Oh, why, when in the battle, Did I na’ fa’ an’ dee. Ne eee anne eae a ee hI pei tapi I saw her cheek grow thinner, — Yet flush wi’ hectic’s hue, I mark’d her e’e’s strange brightness, Those e’es o’ darkest blue. Those e’es o’ darkest blue, That beam’d sae saft on me, When I cried, ‘‘My Annie Laurie, T can na’ see thee dee.” Then calm as to nightly slumber, She sunk in my arms to rest, An’ the wild flowers 0’ spring now cumber The sod upon her breast, The sod upon her breast, Oh, what wad I na’ gie, If beside my Annie Laurie I could lay down an’ dee, While the Gas is Burning. Published by E. H. Harpina, 229 Bowery, N. Y. Music and words, 10 cents. You’ll hear some people moralize, And say it is a sin To drink, and smoke, and crack a joke, Or stay oul and spend one’s tin. But that’s all silly twaddle, Tenjoy myself at night, And never think of going home While the gas-lamps are alight. Cuorus—Night is the time to have a spree, my boys, Our fun requires no learning, We never think of going home, Not while the gas is burning. The time o’ day when I get up, Is about two P. M.; I ring for boots and morning suit, And soon slipinto them, Isip my coffee, read the Post, Try billiards, pyramids, or pool, Until the time approaches . To meet the gas-light school. (CHorvs.) I suppose if I get married, These things must be revers’d, But I fancy it will take some time, For I’m not to be coerced. TPve had my own way for so long, That ’twould be hard to reform, But I'd do that, rather than stir up, A matrimonial storm. (CHOoRUS.) But while a bachelor I remain, 7 Tl just do as I please, Tl go out and also come home, Just to suit my taste and ease. And to meet a set of jolly boys, Like those I see to-night, ; i Is worth a night’s spree in the square, 1 When the gas is burning bright. (CHorvs.) Kathleen Mavourneen. Kathleen Mavourneen! the gray dawn is breaking, The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill, The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking, Kathleen Mavourneen! what, slumbering still? Oh! hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever? Oh! hast thou forgotten this day we must part? It may be for years, it may be forever; Oh! why are thou silent, thou voice of my heart? It may be for years, and it may be forever, ; Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen? Kathleen Mavourneen! awake from thy slumbers, The blue mountains glow in the sun’s golden light; _Ah! where is the spell that once hung on my numbers? Arise in thy beauty, thou star of the night, Arise in thy beauty, thou star of the night. Mavourneen, Mavourneén, my sad tears are falling To think that from Erin and thee I must part; It may be for years, it may be forever— __ Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart? It may be for years, and it may be forever; By Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen? ' So THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. A Dream of Love. _ Published by E. H. Hanprva, 220 Bowery, N.¥. Music and words, 10 centa, There is a spot, where I have wandered, At morning, noon and silent night, And o’er the past and present ponder’d And to the future turned my sight. There hope would tell its tale of pleasure, And through the realms of fancy rove, While mem’ry yielded up its treasure, I dream’d a waking dream of love, A dream of love, A waking dream, a dream of love. That dream of love, tho’ years are flowing, Like swiftest river, silent by, Ne’er vanishes, but brighter glowing, Comes ever and seems ever nigh, That face and form divinely telling Of bliss, sweet. gift of heaven above, Like music’s charm serenely swelling, That dream, that waking dream of love, That dream of love, That waking dream, that dream of love. PERHAPS. | Copied by permission of Spear & Dennuorr, 717 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright. Music and words, 85 cents. I’m a girl just sweet sixteen, My Christian name is Annie, I live up on Sixth avenue, Along with my aunt Fanny. A gent has asked to marry me, And I have not said nay; But when the happy day he’d fix, ' Why this is what I say— Cxorus—Perhaps I can, perhaps I can’t, Perhaps I may, perhaps I shan’t; If, perhaps, I ask my aunt, ‘Your request perhaps she’ll grant! Perhaps I can, perhaps I can’t, Perhaps I may, perhaps I shan’t; And if, perhaps, you ask my aun’t, Perhaps she won’t say nay! Now this old aunt of mine, you know, Is deaf as any post; And all she does the livelong day, Is munching tea and toast. He often thought to her he’d go, But then he has a fear That he might scream with all his might, And then she couldn’t hear. ' SpoxEN—Yes, ladies and gentlemen, and when my Harry asks ) me about it, all I say is— Cxorus—Perhaps she can, perhaps she can’t, etc. Now love, it is a funny thing! Of this I have no doubt; And Harry sometimes.plagues me so, I don’t know what I’m ’bout. He often says, ‘‘ Now, Annie dear, . When we shall married be, . How charming you will look, my love, ‘With a baby on each knee!” Sroxen—And all I can says is—(CHORUS.) My Love, He is a Sailleur Boy. My love he is a sailleur boy so galliant and bold, He’s as tall as a -staff, scarcely nineteen years old. __ Forto cruise around this world he has left his own dear, And my heart it is a-bursting because he is not here. . _ Cxorvus—For his spirit was tre-men-duous, And fierce to behold, In a young man bred a carpentier, Only nineteen years old. His parients they bound him for to be a carpentier, But a sea-faring life he did very much prefer— For his spirit was tre-men-duous, and fierce to behold In a young man bred a carpentier only nineteen years old. (CHORUS.) My bussom it is a-tossing, just like the rolling sea, For fear that his affections don’t still point to me; For a sweetheart can be found in each port I am told, Especially for a young man only nineteen years old. (CxHo.) And it’s oh for my lovier I grieve and repine, For fear that this young man can never be mine; All the wealth of the Indies in silver and gold, I would give for my sailleur boy only nineteen years old. (CHorvs.) The Yellow Rose of Texas. Copied by permission of Firrn, Ponp & OCo., 547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright . There’s.a yellow rose in Texas that I am going to see, No other darkey knows her, no darkey only me; She cried so when I left her, it like to broke my heart, And if I ever find her, we never more will part, CHORUS. She’s the sweetest rose of color this darkey ever knew, Her eyes are bright as diamonds, they sparkle like the dew, You may talk about your “‘ Dearest May,” and sing of “ Rosa ” But the yellow rose of Texas beats the belles of Tennessee, Where the Rio Grande is flowing, and the starry skies are bright, She walks along the river in the quiet summer night; She thinks if I remember, when we parted long ago, I promised to come back again, and not to leave her so. (CHO.) Ob, now I’m going to find her, for my heart is full of woe, And we'll sing the song together, that we sung so leng ago; We'll play the banjo gayly, and we'll sing the songs of yore, And the yellow rose of Texas shall be mine forevermore. (CHO.) I Wandered by the Brookside. I wandered by the brook-side, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still. There was no sound of grasshopper, Nor chirp of any bird; i And the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. I sat beneath the elm tree, I watched the long, long shade, And as it grew still longer, I did not feel afraid; For I listened for a footfall, I listened for a word, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. He came not, no, he came not! Tbe moon came out alone, ; The little stars sat, one by one, Each on its golden throne, The evening wind passed by my cheek, The leaves above were stirred, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. Fast silent tears were falling, When something stood behind, A band was on my shoulder, I knew the toucli was kind; It drew me nearer, nearer; . We could not speak a word, And the‘beating of our own hearts Was all the sound we heard. Published by E. H. Harprna, 229 - altace Ne a iil fay Sn UM DANCING MAD. cents. Sad tales we hear of ev’ry day, ; : The truth there’s no denying, Through dancing with a lady gay, Pm dancing till I’m dying. : Kind friends, I’m sure you'll pity me, For my sorrows make me sad, s She won my hand and stole my heart, And left me dancing mad. Cuorvus—I'm mad, I’m mad, Oh, yes! I'm dancing mad, I’m mad, I’m mad, Oh, yes! I’m dancing mad. We married were, things went all right, Forget I never can, When coming home one night to her, , om my house was some young man, “Who was entertained at my expense, And they both seem’d very glad, When they turn’d them round and saw me there They said, ‘I was dancing mad.” (CHORUS.) T stamp’d with rage and jump’d about, When guess to my surprise, This young man gave me a dreadful blow ” Which blacken’d both my eyes; I bawl’d out ‘‘Murder! police here,” They came, and I was glad, : But ae said they could not interfere, For I was dancing mad. (CHORUS.) They took me to the mad-house straight, For months they kept me there, ¢ . They made of me a precious guy’ For they cut off all my hair; They tried to cure me of my hops, But they found it all a gag. So turn’d me out incurable, And I go about dancing mad. ‘CHORUS.) z OUR BOYHOOD DAYS. I'm sitting alone in my office, dear Lew, And writing and singing my lays; I'm laughing and crying as memory goes back To the time of our boyhood days. Though man that you are, do you mind it, dear Lew; The cabin where first we saw light, Which father so carefully chinked up with dirt, To make all tho crevices tight? D’ye mind it, your lubberly form, my dear Lew, | Your eyes ever laughing through tears, Your ball, and your skates, and your trundling-hoop, The bliss of your earlier years? 3 D’ye mind it, thé times I have switched you, dear Lew, _ When “ Mother!” or some such a shield, Was the word that. instinctively burst from your lips, While I took to the woods or the field? D’ye mind it, our mother’s sideboard, dear Lew, Where nut-cakes and doughnuts were kept, # The old trundle bed that was pulled out on trucks, Where we, boy, have peacefully slept? Since then, upon mattress and sofa, dear Lew, Ofttimes I have pillowed my head; _ But ah! I have never yet found such repose As came from that old trundle-bed. That sideboard and trundle-frame, Lew, are no more— The quilts and the sheets, too, are gone; Though Fancy insists that those sheets are the sheets My pen is now scribbling upon. D’ye mind it, old Hepzibah’s ferule, dear Lew, Which taught us to read and to spell? The fears of that ferule were like to the fears I now entertain of a hell, ‘ That ferule was missing one morn, my dear. Lew While Hepzibah went to her home; Asa Lombard—but Asa I will not expose, | ° For mind, boy, we ’greed to. be mum! owery, New York. .Music and words, ‘THE’ SINGER’S LIBRARY. oo LLIN RNS NON — Cxorvus—The sea; the sea, the wide and free, —~— D’ye mind it, our terrible punishment, Lew, That sitting with Catharine Russ? Our peeping through fingers when prisoned there, too, To see who were giggling at us? ‘Tis strange, my dear Lew, how that habit, of late, Has conquered that boyish fear— Since then I have sat a whole night beside Kate, ‘Without even shedding one tear. D’ye mind it, the place where we teetered, dear Lew The fence that stood over the “run ?” ~ Such teetering, was an innocent sport,. ' For, mind it, we teetered for fun. Since then I have teetered with larger-sized boys, But always have teetered for pelf; I’ve teetered. many a lad from the plank, And often been teetered myself. D’ye mind it, *‘Old Robinson’s’ husking, dear Lew Where all drank new rum from a jug; Where husking commenced with a jig and a reel, And ¢losed with a kiss and a hug? I now am a rigid teetotaler, Lew, And stick to my principles snug; And nothing would tempt me to “liquor” again, Unless ’twas ‘“‘ Old Robinson’s ” jug. D’ye mind it, the day of all days in our youth, When death came so horrid and grim, And brandished his scythe till he clipped the last thread Of the life of our dog we called Prim? D’ye mind it, the knoll by the ‘ beech-bars,” dear Lew, Where beech-nuts so many we got, And lugged in our caps down at Huckins’s store, To barter for powder and shot? Since beech-nuts grew dull, Lew, I’ve tried other scheme: And now am in business that pays; But all of my gains I would toss to the winds For a month of our boyhood days, Oh! the Sea, the Sea. Oh, the sea, the sea, hath a charm for me As I list to its changeless roar; And Id rather sail at the sound of the gale Than wander the green earth o’er. : And oft as I gaze on future days, I pray that my lot may be In the future cast as has been the past, On the breast of the heaving sea. — The home of thé stout and brave, Is the happiest place of all to me— Then hurrah for the sparkling wave. For ’tis joy to rise on the billowy tide, And watch the bounding spray, As the tinted clouds that the sky enshrouds Herald the rising day; And with rapture ( gaze on the sun’s firstrays i Gilding the sparkling wave, As with azure and gold of beauty untold ; Old ocean’s ,brow they lave. (CHORUS.) And at setting sun when the day is done, ix ; To watch in the far-off west, The amber and blue form a glorious hue, Like-halo that falls o’er the blest; And dream, as I gaze, of the olden days, Of joy and lightsome mirth, __ Ere far away I was lured to stray From my childhood’s happy hearth. And often I hear, when the tempest’snear, — The voice of the angry wave, : _ As with wailing scorn if points to the bourne, '-_ Where the sailor must find a grave; Yet I never fear when its voice I hear, For ’tis sweeter far to me mn To sink to rest on the ocean’s “(Cuorus.) ” é Than be laid ’neath the greenwood tree. (CHo.) 3, THE SINGER'S) LIBRARY. One More Glass before We’re Parting. Published by E, H. Harding, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents, I delight to gather round me True and trusty friends of mine, At my table they surround me, Then I feel a king divine. Then I say, come what»may, Let’s enjoy our fleeting day; Pass the glass and we'll all be gay, And sing before we go. CHorvus—One more glass before we’re parting, Drink with me before you go; One more glass before you're starting, Just another, now don’t say no! Life to me would be'no treasure, If I lived a life alone; ; Health and happiness and pleasure, These are in the gifts I own. _ These I share ev’rywhere, Giving all I have to spare. Pass your glass, we’ll ull drink fair, And sing before we go. (CHORUS.) If my guests be two or twenty, ‘More the merrier,” say I; In the.cellar there is plenty, All are welcome, come and try. When the fun’s nearly done, When our jovial time has run, Drink to ev’ry absent one, And sing before you go. (CHORUS.) “THE QUILTING PARTY. ‘Twas down at Major Parsons’ house, The gals they had a quiltin’, Just for tu show their handsome looks And have a little jiltin’. Cxuorvus—Yankee lasses are the U- ’niversal airth bewitchin’, They’re good and true, and handsome tu, In parlor and in kitchen. There was Deacon Jones’s darter Sal, Squire Wheeler’s darter Mary, And General Carter’s youngest gal, That looks just like a fairy. (CHORUS.) There was Lucy White, and Martha Brown, And Parsons’ darter Betty, Femimo Pinkhorn, Prudence Short, And Major Downing’s Hetty. (CHorvs.) But if there was a handsome gal, To make a fellar’s heart right, I guess it was, by all accounts, | Miss Carolina Cartwright. (CHoRus.) Wal, as they were a-whirlin’ plate, And playin’ hunt the slipper, Jerusha Parsons went to git Some cider in a dipper. (CHoRvs.) But just as she had left the room, And got inter the entry, She give a scream, and stood stock-still Just like a frozen sentry. (CHORUS.) We all ran out, and there, I swow, Both huggin’ like creation, Miss Cartwright and Sam Jones we saw, A-kissin’ like tarnation. (CHoRUS.) ‘Oh, such a laugh as we sot up, You never heerd a finer, Says I, ‘I rekin kissin’s cheap, Don’t you, Miss Cagolina”” (CHorvs.) I wish you’d saw Miss Cartwright blush, Just like as if she’d painted, _ She said—she had the colic—and In Samuel’s arms had fainted. (CHoRvs.) And now, young gals, I'd say tu a _ When you go tu a frolic, Don't let your fellers kiss and hug, - as _ Unless you have the colic. (CHtonvs,) I Have Something Sweet to Tell You.. I have something sweet to tell you, but the secret you miist keep, And remember, if it isn’t right, ‘‘ I’m. talking in my sleep;” For I know I am but dreaming, When I think your love is mine; And I know they are but seeming, All the hopes that round me shine, I have somethjng sweet to tell you, but the secret you must keep, And remember, if it isn’t right, ‘I’m talking in my sleep.” So remember when I tell you what I can no longer keep, We are none of us responsible for what we say in sleep. My pretty secret’s coming! Oh! listen with your heart, And you shall hear it humming;. Be close! ’twill make you start. T have something sweet to tell you, but the secret you must keep, And remember, if it isn’t right, “‘P?’m talking i in my sleep.” Oh! shut your eyes so earnest, or mine will wildly weep, L love you! I adore you! but, “Dm talking in my sleep.” For I know I am but dreaming, When I think your love is mine; And I know they are but seeming, All the hopes that round me shine. I have something sweet to tell you, but the secret you must keep, And remember, if it isn’t right, “‘1’m talking in my sleep,” MY MOTHER DEAR. There was a place in childhood, That I remember well, ; And there a voice of sweetest tone — Bright fairy tales did tell, . And gentle words and fond ‘embrace Were given with joy to me, When I was in that ha: ppy state, Upon my mother’s nn CHorus—My mother dear, my mother dear! My gentle, gentle mother! When fairy tales were ended, “ Good-night,” she softly said, And kissed and laid me down to sleep Within my tiny bed; And holy words she taught me ins chy Methinks I yet can see Her angel eyes, as close I knelt Beside my mother’s knee. (CHORUS.) In the sickness of my childhood, The perils of my prime, The sorrows of my riper years, The cares of every time— When doubt or danger weighed me down, Then pleading all for me, It was a fervent prayer to Heaven That bent my mother’s knee. (CHORUS.) * The Grave of Lilly Dale. ‘We smothered down the locks of her soft golden hair, And folded her arms om her breast, © And laid her, at eve, in.the valley so fair, "Mid the blossoms of summer to rest. Cxorvus—Oh, rest, Lilly, rest, no care can’ assail, For green grows the turf O’er the tear-moisted grave, . Of the fairest flower of the vale, She sleeps ’neath the spot she had marked for repose, Where the flowers soonest blossom in spring, And zephyr’s first breathe the perfumes of the rose, And the birds come at evening to sing. {CHORUS.) The wide-spreading boughs of the old chestnut tree, Bend low o’er the place where she lies, There eve’s purple beams longest glow on the lea, And the morn’s drink the dew as they rise. (CHoRUS® Alone where the brook murmurs soft on the air, She sleeps with the turf on her breast, As we laid her, at eve, in the valley so fair, rT iid the bosoms of summer to et (Guonos.) a eae ~ OH! MARIGOLD. Published by E. H, Harpina, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10:cents, ‘Though I’m a blighted Trumpet-flow’r, A Bulrush bending low; Forget-me-not, my Pippins, When my Rose shall cease to blow; Miss Marigold a Dragon-plant, With cheeks Carnation red, ° Threw Ow-eyes at my Heart’s-ease, ’ And turn’d my Poppy-head. CHORUS. Oh! Marigold, Marigold, Marigold, Fair as the Snowdrop with eyes like Sloes’ ; She’s my Daffodilly and my Lilac and my Lily, She’s my Buttercup, my Daisy, and my wild White Rose. | No Hollyhock more stately was, No Sunflower half so gay, And she was sweet as Honeysuckle, Clover-tops or May. She caught-me in her Fly-trap As the Lupin does the bee, And made me her Fool’s Parsley, For I lov’d her like Sweet-pea, (CHORUS.) She was my Pink and Picotee, My Myrtle, Moss and Mint ; My Laurel, Lime-and Lemon-tree, My Liverwort and Lint. Tho’ cold as Ice-plants was my Peach, No Nettle stung like she; For oh she kept her Cuckoo-plant From Mandrakes such as me. When I offered her my Tulips; She became a Passion-flower No Deadly-Nightshade look’d more dark, No Sorrel half so sour. Bhe said Hop off you Hellebore, You Hemlock, Hemp and Rue; No Toud-stool turns Hyssop, More than Savin, Sage or Yew.” (CHORUS.) I'm turning pale as Parsnips, For my sweet Blue-bell I Pine ; But she’s fairly cut my Cocks-comb, For T’ve lost my Columbine, AScarlet-runner flung his tendrils, * Round my Sprig of Myrrh, And so she lies in Lavender, While I’m a Bursting-burr. (CHoRUS.) I feel as small as Brussels-sprouts, As useless as Chickweed ; I’m like a faded Cauliflower, Or Pumpkin all in seed. - My Jasmine turn’d a Upas-tree, The Ivy left the Oak ; She Cabbaged all my Lad’s-love, And I’ve got a (He)artichoke. (CHORUS.) (CHorvs.) MARY AILEEN, . Lying by thy little grave, Mary Aileen, One sweet word is all I crave, Mary Aileen! Wilt thou hear me in my woe? Wilt thou answer soft and low? Canst thou speak a little? no, Mary Aileen! CHorvus—Mary Aileen! Mary Aileen! Canst thou speak a little? no, Mary Aileen! Midst the flowers now I’m speaking, Mary ae, Canst thou hear my voice below, Mary Aileen Here till morning will I lie— Here to-night I fain would die, And to thee be ever nigh, Mary Aileen. -(Citorvs.) Every night upon thy grave, Mary Aileen, Shall my tears the sweet hours lave, Mary Aileen? . I will whisper: “ Art thou mine?” Thou wilt answer: “Ever thine!” (Cheats _ ‘Sites cae ToVe aivisie, Mary Aileen, eee THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. oes I Have No Mother, Now. oa The midnight stars are gleaming Upon her silent grave— Now sleepeth without dreaming, The friend we could not save. The cloud of grief is heaping . Its shadows on my brow— Oh, blame me not for weeping, I bave no mother now! The cloud of grief, etc, Yet not alone she lieth, One angel-child is there, No more for him she sigheth, For death has joined the pair, Together sweetly sleeping, Beneath the locust bough— Oh, blame me not for weeping, : I have no mother now! ; Together sweetly sleeping, ete, No mother now to bless me, With love sincere and true, No mother to caress me, ‘ As she was wont to do. No mother’s grief is keeping Its shadow on my brow— Oh, blame me not for weeping, I have no mother, now! : No mother’s grief is keeping, ete, [Written for the Sinerr’s Liprary.] SWEET MATILDA BROWN. Song and dance, by “Barnum,” of Pittsburg. Respectfully dedicated to his favorites in the song and dance line, Messrs. ' Deleharty and Hengler. Atm—“ Footsteps in the Snow.” While sojourning on a visit to a maiden aunt, Who lives in a country town, I came across a little fairy, who’s father runs a dairy, Her name, Matilda Brown. To my enchanted eyes it seemed a vision; Such a charming little maiden ne’er was seen, And as at her I glanced, I felt the force of Cupid’s lance; Her age was sweet sixteen! onorus (Waltz time.) She was feeding the ducks on the porch, quack, quack! As I was passing by, And her roguish blue eyes expressed surprise, As she looked at me so shy. At her I glanced, then stood entranced, ‘‘Good-morning, miss,” said I, And fell head over heels in love with the little fairy. (DANCE.) ‘ She was as regal as a queen, with a manner so serene, The sight near took my very breath away; ’ With a wealth of golden hair, she was the fairest of the fair, I scarce knew what to say; But at last she broke the silence with her silvery voice so leary: “Rude sir, how dare you frighten me this way?” And her cherry lips did pout, seeming very much put out, That bright midsummer’s day. (CHORUS.) Although taken by I did soon apologize, : When the little sylph invited pe to stay, \ And sup with them seal eet "with delight, And was back’ again the very next day. But why prolong the tale? It was in this happy vale That sweet Matilda promised to be mine, i ee ye In that sweet summer time. Spoxen—Yes, we're married now, ‘but somehow she has never appeared so c g as when I first saw her— sep rage de the a ete. 4 THE SINGER'S LIBRARY. _— SPARKING SARAH JANE. Sitting on the sofa, leaning on my breast, Is a lovely maiden, perfectly at rest; Listening to my love vows, sighing very plain; Bless me, this is pleasant, sparking Sarah Jane, CHorvus—Bless me, ain’t it pleasant, Bless me, ain’t it pleasant, Bless me, ain’t it pleasant, Sparking Sarah Jane? Gentle words are spoken, kisses sweet we give, Vows to love each other long as we do live; Vows to be as happy as the running rill, Never getting angry: do you think I will? (Caorvs.) Dad is getting squeamish, shakes his head in doubt, Ma looks on and wonders what her gal’s about, Thinks there'll be a weddin’—guesses that’s no sin, But somehow or another, hopes I’ve got the tin. (CHORUS.) Daddy he’s consented, mamma can’t say no, Sonny kinder likes it, sissy wants a show, Now begins the bustle, now begins the fun, Every one is ready, shopping must be done. (CHORUS.) Carriage stands awaiting, “‘ Where’ll you please to go?” “ Drive us up to Stewart’s,” see what he can show, Troubling all the merchants, buying here and there, Beating down the price—“Are you sure ’twill wear?” (CHO.) Hurry up the dresses, cut them very low, Make them large and airy where the hoops do go, Trying on the bodice, trying on the capes, Keep your fingers moving, cause it’s getting late. (Cxo.) Sewing in the chamber, stitching in the hall, Servants in the kitchen, fixing for the ball; Every one is busy ’cepting Jane and I, Do you know the reason—shall I tell you why? (CHorvs.) Sitting on the sofa, leaning on my breast, Is a lovely maiden, perfectly at rest; Listening to my love vows, sighing very plain, Bless me, this is pleasant, sparking Sarah Jane. (CHoRUS,) OUR FATHERLAND. We'll ever sing of our fatherland, Where dwells a noble, gallant band; Columbia, the name we love, E’er dear to us where’er we rove, ¢ CHORUS, Then sing we on in praise of that noble band who freedom won : In our own dear fatherland, : In our own dearefatherland, who freedom won / In our own dear fatherland, No tyrant’s frown do we ever fear, In our free land to us so dear; We laugh to scorn a kingly power, For none but slaves to such will cower. (CHORUS.) Then pledge ye round with a manly brow, The music’s clear, harmonious flow; And firmer to be the glorlous stand ‘ We take for home and fatherland, (CHoRvs.) May Providence ever bless our land And still supply with plenteous hand; Heaven watch and keep us in our might, And make us walk in paths aright, (CHORUS.) CORA LEE. "Twas a lovely day in early spring, When birds were fill’d with glee, We stood in grief around the bed . Of dying Cora Lee. CHORUS, Oh Cora, sweet Cora! how happy is thy rest, For the «agels have placed a crown upon thy brow _ And taught thee the songs of the blest. : { “‘T long to go,” she softly said, “* And ever happy be With Willie, who has gone befo! 7 Your dying Cora Lee,” (CHoRUs.) * My lovely friends, oh, murmur not, Nor grieve, nor pine for me; All will be well when angels call For dying Cora Lee.” (CHorus.) * At the close of day, when all is still, Oh! come on bended knee, And meekly pray that you may rest With your poor Cora Lee.” (CHoRUB.) * Bright angels now are hovering near, Their fairy forms I see; Oh, farewell all, they’re now . j For your dying Cora Lee.” (CHoRUS.) [Written for the Smvczr’s Lrprary.} POOR LITTLE FLO. BY JOHNNIE CURTIS, One cold winter’s night, while strolling through the city’s gay throng, I met a poor little girl who was singing a song; Although she was singing she wanted for bread, And though she was smiling she wished she was dead. I spoke kindly to her as she sat in the snow, She’d no place of shelter, and no home to go; No mother to guide her, ‘for in the cold grave she laid low, Homeless and friendless was poor little Flo. CHORUS, _ Wand’ring all day she had been in the street, Crying for bread, but no friend did she meet; She had no one to guide her, nowhere to go— Cast on the cruel world was poor little Flo. The street-lights had gone out, the clock just struck one, When along came a policeman, whose duty was done, And to me it seemed, with his dull, heavy tread, As though he were seeking the dying or dead. “In the name of God, what’s this?” the policeman said. — It was poor little Flo! On the pavement she lay dead. With her face turned toward heaven, covered with snow, Dead in the cold streets lay poor little Flo! (CHorvs.) COME SIT THEE DOWN. Come sit thee down, my bonny, bonny lass; Come sit thee down by me, love, And I will tell thee many a tale Of the dangers of the sea— Of the perils of the deep, love, Where the angry billows roar, And the raging waters wildly dash Upon the beaten shore, Where the raging waters wildly dash Upon the beaten shore. Crorus—Come sit thee down, my bonny, bonny lass; Come sit thee down by me, love, And I will tell thee many a tale Of the dangers of the sea. The stars are flaming red, my love, The stars are flaming red, love, And wildly rolls the tempest ware, And rears its mountain head; The skies and ocean blending _Amid the howling blast, The daring tar ’twixt life and deata, Clings to the shatter’d mast, . The daring tar Ytwixt life and death, ; Clings to the shatter’d mast. (CHORUS) j . peck ti Ops CI ENE — THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. ‘ The Promenade Elastique. Published by E. H. Harvine, 229 Bowery, N: Y. Music and words, 10 cents, The “* Grecian Bend” is almost done, The Roman Fall as well, But I’ve invented something else That both these must excel. The grace that I impart to it, Ouidoes the Poses Plastique; It’s meant for gentlemen and call’d ‘The Promenade Elastique.” 2 CHORUS. - Look heah, look heah, you swells and belles, The Grecian) Bend is at an end, the Roman Fall as well, But I’ve something new for all of you, so don’t despair, And I’ve christened it the Promenade Elastique, I used to try the Roman, Fall, \ But suffer’d from such pain, I got a stiffness in the back ‘Would scarce come out again. Several Turkish baths I took, And it was only last week, This new idea occurr’d to me, The Promenade Elastique. (CHORUS.) If all who tried the Roman Fall, ‘ Like me experienced pain, I don’t suppose it ever will Be popular again. : And so if those who patronized The fashion of the past seek For something new, ’d recommend “The Promenade Elastique,”” (CHORUS.) I’m certain that this fashion will In time gain great renown,’ And ‘surely will adopted be By every. swell in town. It’s just the thing for those young gents _ Who always something fast seek, ~ So graceful, light, and airy is— The Promenade Elastique. Sroken—You may find a little difficulty at first, you know, and may be chaffed a little, as I was, really. As I was going thro’ the Park yesterday, a dirty little boy shouted: ‘D’ye ’ear, mister, ’ave ye got the, staggers?”?— Really. “No ’e ain’t,” another said, “it’s the screws at the joints want tightening.” —Really. I was rather annoyed at the time,'as Miss de Chig- non happened to pass, and of course I had to stop and speak to her. ‘‘ Really,” I said, “you look as charming as a delicate ca- melia, and your eyes are brighter than the most sparkling brill- iants.” “Do you think so, Mr. Pinkey?’ she said. (My name is Pinkey, Maurice Pinkey.) ‘‘ You are looking well.” ‘ Yaas,” I said, ‘‘they say I’m quite a pot; what do you think of my flower, Miss de Chignon?’ ‘A..great deal more,” she replied, “than Ido of the pot.” ‘Now, really, Miss de Chignon, your sarcasm is bitter enough to blight the flower and crack the pot.” “‘ That is impossible,” she. said.‘ Why?” I inquired. ‘‘ Because,” she replied, ‘I’m afraid it was cracked before.” ‘‘Really,” I said, “that’s too bad, really.”. ‘‘ Why, what’s the matter with you, Mr. Pinkey,” she asked, “why do you jump up and down like that; are you ill?’ ‘‘Tll, my dear,” I said, ‘‘no} really, don’t you know what it is?” ‘ No,” she said; “‘how should I?” ‘ Well, then,” I replied— (CHoRvs:) Little Katy, or Hot Corn. Music published by H. Warers, 481 Broadway, New York, “Oh, hot corn! nice hot corn! who will buy my hot corn?” Cried a child in accents mild, “come, buy my hot corn!” Scalding tears are stealing down her pallid cheeks, Hope no beam revealing, Katy’s sad and weak. Yet all the while she tries to smile, and in accents so forlorn, To passers-by you'll hear her cry, ‘Oh, buy}’oh, buy my hot corn, ; . ‘ Oh, hot corn, nice hot corn! who will buy my hot corn?” Cries Katy dear, with many a tear, ‘‘ Oh, buy, buy my hot corn)” ; wT OnoRes,’ ’ _ “ Hot corn, hot corn! here’s your nice hot corn!”. __ Pass not by, or'she may die should she not sell her hot corn. _ ‘Hot corn, hot corn! ‘here’s your nice hot oorn!* Pass not by, orshe may die should she not sell her hot corn. “Qh, hot.corn! nice hot corn}, who will buy my hot corn? "Tis very late—no longer wait, comé, buy my hot corn!” Little children long are sleeping, half the world is now at rest, Yet poor Katy, she is weeping, dares not seek her wretched nest. Her wicked mother madly burning, passion beaming from her eyes, ; For life’s poisén she is yearning, ‘Give, oh, give me drink!” she cries. ° : Yet Katy dear, oft with a tear, ushers in the coming morn, Faintly crying—almost dying, ‘‘Buy, oh, buy my hot corn!” : (CHORUS.) “Oh, hot corn! nice hot corn!” she will sing no more to-night, Katy’s lying—almost dying, death is hovering now in sight; Yet to her it is a blessing, life to her is naught but woe, Katy knows there’s no oppressing in heaven where she’s sure to go. Poverty hath chilled the flower, that might else so sweetly bloom, Old grim death alone hath power to snatch poor Katy from her doom, : Oh, Katy dear, what bliss is near, to usher in your coming morn, Life is flying, Katy’s dying, no more crying, ‘‘ Nice hot corn!” “ Hot corn, hotcorn!” no more at early dawn : Thou'lt be sighing, faintly crying, “Buy, oh, buy my hot corn!” snipe Sie ata Waiting for the May. Ah! my heart is weary, waiting, Waiting for the May: Waiting for the pleasant rambles, Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles, , With the woonbine alternating, Scent the dewy way. Ah! my heart is sore with sighing, Sighing for the May; Sighing for the sure returning, ‘When the summer’s beams are burning, Hopes and flowers that, dead or dying, All the winter lay. 9 Ah! my heart, my heart is throbbing, Throbbing for the May; Throbbing for the sea-side billows, Or the water-wooing willows, Where, in laughter and in sobbing, Glide the streams away. f ee EEE What other Name than Thine, Mother. . What other name than thine, mother, What other name than thine : Can bring to hearts bow’d down, mother, , A. balm so like divine? : Cxrorus—'Tis like a beam of light, mother, Our darksome way to cheer, | Dispelling gloom of night, mother, And bringing gladness here. What other voice than thine, mother, What other voice than thine Can waft a magic spell, mother, . O’er sorrow’s tearful shrine? CHorus—’Tis like a beam, etc. Thow'rt with us ‘yet, but oh! mother, How long ere setting sun, , Shall shroud in gloom and night, mother, A day so bright at noon? Cuorus—At morning when we kneel, mother, Ascends an earnest plea; At evening’s holy calm, mother, A prayer ascends for thee. Dost think that we neglect, mother,» To prize thy dearest name? ‘ Thou knowest not how warm, mother, - Is fire without a flame. es or CHorvs—At morning when, etc. — ‘ RSLS INI IIRL LAS THE SINGER'S LIBRARY. When the Good Times Come Again. Copied by permission of E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, Ne New York, owner of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents, The rich complain at fortune’s frown, The poor grow poorer still, The spendthrift saves his pennies now To pay his lodging bill. The miser counts his secret store, His greed he can’t restrain, He hopes to save a trifle more When the good times come again, Cuorus—Then keep your spirits light and gay, - And sing this hopeful strain, 4 We'll all be happy by and by, When the good times come again, The man of toil is now at rest, His rent is coming due, His purse is empty, but his heart ds honest, proud, and true. He smiles at each succeeding cross, And does not sigh in vain, He knows the tide of life will change When the good times come again. The child sits on her father’s knee, Her kiss he can’t refuse. “ Just see my little toe, papa, I want a pair of shoes.” Too well he knows her lightest want, But now, she asks in vain; All he can say is, ‘‘ Yes, my dear, When the good times come again.” The lover looks with wistful eyes Upon his bride to be; She begs him to be good and wise, Till brighter days they see. They kiss and part, while in each heart, Sweet hopes of joy remain’ Some day they’ll wed, but they must wait Till the good times come again. (CHORUS.) (CHORUS.) (CHoRUS.) ‘ JOHN JONES. A PARODY ON BEN BOLT, Oh, don’t you remember Lame Sally, John Jones, Lame Sally, whose nose was so brown, Who look’d like a clam if you gave her a smile, And went into fits at your frown? In the old goose pond in the orchard, John Jones, Where the goslins are learning to swim, Lame Sally went fishing one wet, windy day, And, by a mistake, fell in. Under old Simmons’ brush fence, John Jones, That winds at the foot of the hill, Together we’ve seen the old mare go, Grinding cider at Appleton’s mill. The mill-wheel is oven wood now, John Jones, The rafters fell onto a cow, And the weasels and rats that crawl round as you gaze, Are lords of the cider-mill now. ; Do you mind the pig-pen of logs, John Jones, Which stood on the path to the barn, And the shirt-button tree, where they grow on the bough, Which we sewed on our jackets with yarn? = _ The pig-pen has gone to decay, John Jones, The lightning the tree overcome, And down where the onions and carrots once grew, Grow thistles as big as your thumb. There is a change in the things, I love, John Jones, _ They have changed from the good to the bad, And T feel in my stomach, to tell the truth, I'd like to go home tomy dad. Twelve months twenty have pass’d, John Jones, Since I knock’d off your nose with a rail, And yet I believe I’m dan only true friend, Johm er of the Hurricane Gale, Just Look at That, Just g008 at This” SERVANTS’ SONG, Who are wanting maidens able To keep house and wait at table? Such here you'll find! Such here you'll find! Of dark and fair you see there’s plenty, And some are old, and some not twenty, So you may have your mind! So you may have your mind! Just look at that, just look at this! Don’t you think we're not amiss? A glance give there, a glance give here! Tell us if you think us dear? Just look at that, just look at this! Don’t you think we're not amiss? A glance give there, 'a glance give here, Tell us if you think us dear! - Tho’ our cheek be fresh and glowing You will find us rather knowing, Most girls are so! Most girls are so! And tho’ of course we all are steady, To pick up more we are quite ready, You will not find us slow, You will not find us slow! * Just look at that, etc. The Fireman’s Victory. QUARTETTE. Hark! hark! hark! to the deep-toned bell, Hark! hark! hark! why peals that solemn knell? cHoRUs. | ; Fire! fire! fire! fire! Turn out! turn out! turn out! TENOR SOLO. See, the sky is turning red, Distant shouts amet the air, Shrinks the heart with silent dread, But the fireman, scorning fear, Quickly startled from his rest, Bids adieu to sweet repose, And to succor the distressed Now his noble spirit glows. CHORUS. Look alive there, clear the street there, Don’t you hear the engine bell? Rushing, crushing, madly: pushing, On they gallop, all pell-mell. Come along—hey, all together, There's another close behind; Clatter, shatter, what’s the matter? ash along there, never mind. BASS SOLO. Now, now we reach the ground, Hark! whence come those accents dire, Ah, great Heaven, encircled round By a sea of living fire, There a female form appears, — With despair and terror wild, Fast her unavailing tears Fall upon her infant a CHORUS. Oh, ’tis a fearful sight to see The fire-fiend have the mastery. SOLO. That great peril none may dare, Though each heart is bursting tien, Horror! must they perish there, ~ In the sight of living men? No! hurrah! on mercy bent, Smoke, and flame, and danger’s braved, And the ear of night is rent By the cry, “ They’re saved! they’re saved! 5 CHORUS. Oh, ’tis a glorious sight terseo The fireman’s bloodless victory. THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. THE FIREMAN’S DEATH. He slept, and o’er his dauntless brow A shade of sorrow stole, ¢ As though some scene of deep distress, Was busy with his soul. When suddenly the dread alarm, Came ringing shrill and clear, Cleaving the night air, till it struck Upon his startled ear. Cuorus—He bounded up; his practiced eye Was turn’d upon the lurid sky, Lit by the flames, which mounting higher, Soon clothed the night in a robe of fire. With lightning speed he reach’d the scene— Oh! what a sight was there! A mother stood amid the flames, And shriek’d in wild despair! Her arms around her frighten’d babe Were thrown with frenzied clasp, As though she feared the fire-fiend Wouid tear it from her grasp. (CHORUS.) With helmet turn’d, through fire and smoke, The gallant fellow fearless broke; He saved them both, but ab! his life Was lost in the unequal strife. Now in sweet Greenwood’s peaceful shade The noble hero sleeps, And o’er his grave full many a friend In silent sorrow weeps. (CHORUS.) A monument erected there Is pointed to with pride By those with whom he often fought The fire, side by side. Sweet flowers exhale their fragrant breath Where now he, peaceful, sleeps in death, And trees their spreading branches wave, Above his solemn Greenwood grave. (CHORUS.) {Written for the Stncrr’s Lrprary.] She Frow’d a Kiss at Me. BY “KID KLYDE.” : Oh! white folks, I’se a jolly nig; I feel like dancin’ you a jig. T’se happy as a big sunflower Just after a refreshin’ shower. Now listen and I’ tell to you De cause ob all my glee;— I met a little culled gal, Who frow’d a kiss at me. . CxHorus—Oh! my heart was all a-flutter, And I felt like melted butter, I could only smirk and stutter, ‘When she frow’d a kiss at me, ‘I met‘her at a culled ball; De dusky gals dey fill’d de hall; De banjo humm’d wid all its might, Which fill’d de darkies wid delight. And while I sat dere all alone, Oh! golly, I did see A pretty little niggah gal, Who frow’d a kiss at me! Cxorvs—Oh! my heart was all a- -quiber, And my spine was all a-shiber, And my head roar’d like a riber, ' ‘When she frow’d a kiss at me. I asked her if she’d dance awhile?“ She answer’d yes, wid a sweet smile; Across de floor how we did tare! You'd bet it made de darkies stare! Dey stopp’d dexp jigs to look at us, Wid open eyes to see Dis frisky nig dance wid de gal Who frow’d a kiss at me. t say my knees dey was ‘shakin’, And my breast it was a-quakin’, And de blood b’il’d in my bacon, When she frow’d a kiss at me. Comic Katee Darling. Oh, they tell me you are fast asleep, my darling, That thy jolly red nose I can not now behold, Don’t believe that I am tight, Katee Darling, Because I am singing here to you all in the cold. Oh, you know not the loving Of the hearts of Erin’s sons, When a good hot whisky toddy, Katee Darling, Is the goal to the race that he runs, Oh, wake up, sweet Katee, For the gas-lights are burning, Katee Darling, The little birds are singing on each tree, Will you never leave off snoring, Katee Darling, Or know that I am crying here for thee? I am standing by thy window, Katee Darling, This night is a cold night for me. Oh, don’t you hear me yelling, Katee Darling? Behold I am singing here to thee, Methinks I see a policeman, By yonder shining light, And he’ll put me in the lock-up, Katee Darling, If he catches me serenading to-night. Then listen, dear Katee, For the wild flowers are sleeping, Katee Darling, And the police are looking round for me, Will you never more hoist your window, Katee Darling? For see, I’m waiting for thee, *Tis useless all my weeping, Katee Darling, But I wish to goodness now you were my bride, And I'd give two shillings directly, Katee Darling, If I were only by your side. ¢ Oh, a great big coat I’m wearing, J ‘And if scarce can heave a sigh, But I'll never leave off drinking, Katee Darling, Every day that I can get it till I die. Then hear me, sweet Katee, The policeman now has got me, Katee Darling, And no one knows when I’ll again be free; In the lonely Tombs come and greet me, Katee ey For there I’ll be waiting for thee, Vilikins and His Dinah! Tis of a rich merchant who in London did dwell, He had but one daughter, an unkimmon nice young gal; Her name—it was Dinah, scarce sixteen years old, With a very large fortune in silver and gold. Singing, to la lol la rol lall to ral lal la. As Dinah was a-valiking the garden one day, Her papa he came to her, and thus he did say: ‘* Go dress yourself, Dinah, in georgeous array, And take yourself a husband, both galliant and gay.” Singing, etc. ‘* Oh papa, oh papa, I’ve not made up my mind, And to marry just yet, why I don’t feel inclined; | To you my large fortune Ill gladly give o’er, If you'll let me live single a year or two more.” Singing, ete. “ Go, go, boldest daughter,” the parient replied, “Tf you won’t consent to be this here young man’s bride, I'll give your large fortune to the nearest of kin, And you shan’t reap the benefit of one single pin.” Singing, ete. As Vilikins was valiking the garden around, He spied his dear Dinah lying dead upon the ground, And the cup of'cold p’ison, it lay by her side, With a billét-doux a-stating, ’twas by p'ison she died, Singing; etc. He kiss’d her cold corpus a thousand times o’er, And call’d her his Dinah though she was no more, Then swallow’d the p’ison like a lovyer so brave, And Vilikins and his Dinah lie both in one'grave, ee ete. MORAL, is Now all you yonlteg maidens take warning ie her, Never not by no means disobey your guverner; —_~ And all you young fellows, mind who you clasp eyes on, , Think of Vilikins and his Dinah and the ey of cold aes ‘Singing, ete. ‘THE SINGER'S LIBRARY. MY DEAREST HEART! Published by E, H, Harprne, is Per New York, Music and words, cents. All the dreaming is broken thro’, Both what is done and undone I rue, Nothing is steadfast, nothing is true, But your love for me, and my love for you, My dearest, dearest heart! When the winds are loud, when the winds are low, When the roses come, when the roses go, One thought, one feeling is all I know, My dearest, dearest heart. — The time is weary, the year is old, And the light of the lily burns close to the mold: The grave is cruel, the grave is cold, But the other side is the city of gold, ' My dearest heart! My darling, darling, my darling heart! STi et Be Kind to Each Other. Be kind to each other, The night’s coming on, _ When friend and when brother Perchance may, be gone; Then ’midst our dejection, How sweet to have earn’d The blest recollection Of kindness return’d, When day hath departed, And memory keeps Her watch broken-he Where all the loved sleep, Let falsehood assail not, Nor envy disprove, Let trifles prevail not Against those you love, No change with to-morrow; Should fortune take wing— The deeper the sorrow, The closer the cling. Be kind to each other, The night’s coming on, ‘When friend and when brother Perchance may be gone, The Old Whisky Jug. We’re anchor’d by the roadside, Jim, Where oft we’ve sat before, When you and I were weary, Jim, When we were half seas-o’er; ; When the bright full moon in splendor, Jim, Shone down on you and I, : And the little stars kept winkin’, Jim, As we drank the old jug dry. Ah! those were happy days, Jim, Those good old days of yore— When Rockwood kept the tavern, Jim, And Potter own’d the store; When whisky ran as freely, Jim, As water in the brook, f And good men for their stomach’s sake Their morning bitters took. But times have changed since then, Jim, And men have alter’d, too— And some have undertaken, Jim, To put rumsellers through; They say that whisky’s poison, Jim, And many graves has 1 That scores of snakes and epils Jim, Are in our good old jug, Who cares for all such prattle, J: To them . way e ase" Bs We'll lay when we're a mind Beneath the old rail fence; rer This stuff they call cold water, Jim, Won't eo for one th 1 ‘ We'll pull the at leisure, And drink the old jug dry, a ‘The Home of the Heart. *Tis home where’er the heart is, : Where’er its loved ones dwell, In cities, or in co’ : Throng’d haunts or mossy dell. The heart’s a rover ever, And thus on wave and wild, The maiden with her lover walks, The mother with her child. *Tis bright where’er the heart is, Its fairy spell can bring Frésh fountains to the wilderness, And to the desert, spring. Green isles are in the ocean, O’er which affection glides, A haven’on each sunny shore, When love’s the sun that guides. *Tis free where’er the heart is, Nor chains, nor dungeons dim, May check the mind’s aspiring thought, The spirit’s pealing hymn. The heart gives life its beauty, Its glory and its power; ‘Tis sunlight to its rippling stream, And soft dew to its flowers. {Written for the Smvcrr’s Lisrary.] I’ll Bet You'd Like to Know. Written by H. 8. Sargent for Mansfield and Tighe, song and dance artists. ENTER I'IRST DARKEY. ~ Y’ve just come down to see my gal, The sweetest one in town; For on her pretty smiling face, ‘You never saw a frown; I meet her every night at eight, Beside the streamlet’s flow, And what we talk about in love, Tl bet you’d like to know. CHorvus—When she trips along so lightly, Her actions are so sprightly; Oh she’s.the sweetest of the sweet, The sunshine of my heart, And if we ever meet again, ' We never more shall part. (Danon, and exit.) ENTER SECOND DARKEY. / I’m going to see my turtle-dove, The fairest one of all; I never shall forget the day She told me I might call; I hear there is another chap, She’s taken for a beau, And what he’ll get if him I catch, I'll bet you’d like to know. (CHORUS AND DANCE.) ENTER FIRST DARKEY. Ha! ha! my friend, you’re just the chap To whom a word Id say; T’ve just been down to see this girl, SECOND DARKEY. You’d better keep away. She’s promised me her heart and hand, FIRST DARKEY. She offered me the same; SECOND DARKEY. If that’s the case I’ll quickly go, And ask her to explain. (Cuorus, Dance, and Exit second Darkey.) FIRST DARKEY. I see the fellow don’t believe A single word I’ve said; (Hnter second Darkey.) SECOND. DARKEY. Oh yes, my friend, I surely do, I’ve got it through my head; BOTH. I saw her talking with a chap, - In conversation low, And when she saw me listening said, ; “Tl bet you'd like to know.” ae OS Sai (Cuorvs AND Danom.) ; ) 42 o_ THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. Give ’ em String and let ’em ee Life is but a span of horses, © One is Age, the other Prime; Up and down the hill our course is; - “Go in, ponies, make your time.” Boyhood flies the whip of pleasure, Youthful folly gives a stroke; Manhood goads them at his leisure; “Let ’em rip—they’re tough as oak,” “ Hi, yo! there; the stakes we'll pocket; To the winds let them be sent; Time: 2 40—whip in socket; Give ’em string and let ’em went.” On the sunny road to fifty, Prime is drown’d in Lethe’s stream; Age is left old and unthrifty; Life then proves'a ‘‘one-horse team.” Age jogs on, grows quite unsteady, Reels and slackens in his pace, Kicks the bucket, always ready, Gives it up—Death wins the race. Go It While You're Young. Money’s scarce they say, and very well we know it, Then surely the best way, is while you’re young to go it; The banks are all flat broke, their rags are good for naught, Bhe specie’s all bespoke, then certainly you ought—to Go it while you’re young, — For when you're old you can’t, Let scandal hold her tongue And bid dull care avaunt. Now single men get wives, the States may soldiers need, There’s plenty to be had, if parties are agreed; Learn them all to shoot, to them it will be sport, Say your fathers fought before, then certainly you ought—to Go it while you’re young, etc. Youth’s the time for pleasure, life is but a ‘span, Gayety’s a treasure, seize it while you can, Old men couldn’t go it, were they to be hung, Their looks and actions show it—then Go it while you're young, ete. {Written for the Smvcrr's Lrsrary,] HOOP DE DO DI Due BY ELMER RIGDON. T's fell in love wid a pretty gal, Hoop de do di dum, She always wears a balmoral, Hoop de do di dum. De boys da call her Susan Jane, - Hoop de do di dum, She libs ’way down in Derby lane, Hoop de do di dum, Crorus—l’s gwine to see my Susan Jane, ] Hoop de do di dum, Way down South among de cane, Hoop de do didum, (Repzar.y I went to see my Susan Jane, Hoop de do di dum— 1 went right t’rough de mud and — Hoop de do di dum! Ob how de dogs did bark and roar, Hoop de do di dum— - When ab rtietilb de kitchen door, — Hoop de do di dum, (Caonvs.) The Girl I Left Behind Me. I’m lonesome since I cross’d the hills And o’er the moor that’s sedgy; With heavy thoughts my mind is fill’d, Since I parted with Peggy. Whene’er I turn to view the place, The tears doth fall and blind me, When I think on the charining grace Of the girl I left behind me. 2 The hours I remember well, When next to see doth move me, The burning flames my heart doth tell, Since first she own’d she loved me, In search of some one fair and gay, Several doth remind me; I know my darling loves me well, Though I left her behind me. The bees shall lavish, make no store, And the dove become a ranger, The fallen water cease to roar, Before I’ll ever change her. Each mutual promise faithful made, By her whose tears doth blind me, And bless the hours I pass away, With the girl I left behind me. My mind her image full retains, Whether asleep or awaken’d; I hope to see my jewel again, For her my heart is breaking. But if ever I do go that way, And she has not resign’d me, I'll reconcile my mind and stay With tho girl I left behind me, (Written for the Smvarr’s Lrprary.] “I DON’T HAVE TO.” BY “KID KLYDE.” One evening when fair Luna’s rays Were shining soft and bright, I took a ramble with my girl To view the charming sight. And while we leisurely moved on, I asked her for a kiss; ri She shook her head quite roguishly— Her answer it was this:, © Cxrorvus—I don’t have to! I don’t have to! I mean just what I say; I don’t have to! I don’t have to! Don’t speak again that way; Because I surely will reply, No matter if no one is nigh— Altho’ you love me deep and trae, Pll always say, I don’t have tol! Her answer it quite puzzled me; My mind was all confused, I could not solve the question why This girl a kiss refused ; And so to have the meaning clear I asked her to explain— She turned her laughing eyes on me And answered once again: (CHORUS.) On, on we wandered, side by side, Her arm within m y own; My heart it beat for her sweet self— — For her sweet self alone; And as the small hours crept apace, We lingered by her door, I asked her if she would be mine, She answered as before: (CHORUA.) | "THE SINGER'S. LIBRARY, 413 > ia LITTLE MOLLIE BROWN. by ission of E, H. Harprna, 229 Bow: New Yi eae Reet the oben Music and Wont, 10 cents, Pee Bands of bright hair gently twining Round a sweet and winsome face, Eyes the dewy stars outshining, Link’d with form of fairy grace. Sweeter than the blushing roses, Queen enough to wear a crown, Not a thought of guile reposes In the heart of Mollie Brown. Cxorvus—Dearest Mollie, sweetest Mollie, Always smile and never frown, Do you know how well we love you, Pretty little Mollie Brown? From the angels as a blessing Was our little Mollie sent, Just for kissing and caressing, Just for summer sunshine lent. May her life be one of pleasure, Darken’d by no tear or frown, While our hearts will fondly treasure Pretty little Mollie Brown, (CHorvs.) [Written for the Sixarr’s Lisrary.] DOT HOLLY-DREE OUDT. BY H. 8S. SARGENT. I vonce dit geep a Holly-dree Saloon on Villiam streed; Der vay de pummers hung aroundt, Vas anyding bud sweed; : Dey ead me oud of house und home, Und trinked all mine sourkrout; Und dough I had a leetle Inn, Id vas a grade pig oudt. Spoxren—Yes, sir, dot Holly-dree Inn vas a failure. Der pum* mers gompletely pust me up. I nefer had pud yone man bay his poard; he got drunk von nide und I sdole his bocket-pook. Dere vas shust dwo cends und dree fishhooks in id. Shust imagine dwo cends und dree fish-hooks for a month’s poard; put I didn’t dare say nodding, I vas afrait he’d hafe me arrested fur sdealing. Bud den ve used der hafe some shplendit dimes in dot house. I remember de obening nide as vell as dough id vas do-morrow morning. Ve had a gread pardy dot nide, made up brincipally of uninvided guests; und I vas galled ubon do make de obening speech. So I got up und sait: ‘‘ Ladies und Chentlemens, did I bossess de eloquence of a deaf und dumb man I midt do de justice more subject.” Sbust den I sed down assisted py a proken spid- doon. Id dook de docdor all de next day do bick de bieces oudt _ Ovmine head. Ov gourse I gared nodding aboud dot; all I _ .vanted vas to ged blenty ov poarders, I didn’t gare nodding aboud de spiddoon either. Bud ven I saw dere vas no moneys coming in I did gare, for— CHORUS. Dot Holly-dree Inn I found vas an oudt; My money’s all gone, und me down in de moud; Und now ven dey see me, der beoples all shoud, * How vas dot Inn?” ven dey know ’dvas an oudt. Mine dables I gept loaded down Mit al] de seasons oudt; Rhine vine und putter filled mit hairs, Limburger und sourkroud; ‘< Mine shadow-soup id vas immense,” f Der poarders used to say; My cheese id vas so full of life, ’Dwould almosd valk avay. SpoxEn-,Yes, und dey even growled at dot. Vone veller vanted me do pud pald-headed budder on der dable. Another gone dold me der next dime I made soup do led dwo shadows fall in de tub vat held de vater. Und den anodder vone had de cheek do dell me of I didn’t geep dot animated cheese off der dable id vould run avay mit der house. Den dey pegan do gall id de Anti-fad Hodel pecause vone of mine poarders vot veighed dwo- hundred, lost forty pounds a veek for six veeks. Afder dat he used do stand in front of a match facdory for a sign. Finally in _ aboud dwo months I only had vone poarder lefd und— (CHORUS.) ‘Und now I’m proken down mit voe, Und don’t know vat to do; Mine peezness id vas all blayed oudt, Mine moneys all vend drough; Somehow I made a grade misdake, Und t’ink I vas a lout; - For vat I dook do pe an Inn, I soon found vas an oudt. Spoxen—Ob no! I nefer shall forget dot Inn, for— (Cuorvs.) Oh! Scorn Not Thy Brother. Oh! scorn not thy brother, Though poor he may be; He’s bound to another, A bright world, with thee; Should sorrow assail him, Give heed to his sighs, Should strength ever fail him, Oh! help him to rise. ° The pathway we're roaming, "Mid flow’rets may lie, ' But soon will life’s gloaming : Come dark’ning our sky; Then seek not to smother. Kind feelings in thee— Oh! scorn not thy brother, Though poor he may be. Go, cheer those who languish Their dead hopes among In whose hearts stern anguish Their harps have unstrung; They may soon in another Bright land roam with thee, Then scorn not thy brother, Though poor he may be, x. COMIC PARODY. Tis of a rich Dutchman in New York did live; He had von fine daughter you petter pelieve; Her name vas Katarina, so fair ash a rose, Un she had a large fortune in the hands of old Mose. Ash Katarina vas drawing de lager bier von day, Her fader comed to her, un dus he do say: “ Hurry up, Kai ! de parlor go to, A customer vaits to go riding mit you.” “Oh, fader, vy don’t dey some oder ghel find, To ride mit dem fellers? I don’t feel inclined; De vay day drives de buggy, it makes me feel veak, Un I vants to get married mit Hans Dunder next veek.” Den her fader got mad un he shvear his ‘‘ gott dam!” She never must marry mit any young man, “If you love dis Hans Dunder, you may go take his bags, Mit his hooks, un his paskets, un go gadder rags.” Katarina now back to de kitchen she ran, Saying, ‘I'll eat up mine preakfast so fast vot I can; Den I'll dravel avay, ash I can’t been his vife;” But dat vas de vay dat she losed her life! For ag she vas eating a big, Bolony sassage, It shtick’t in her troat, un it shtop’d up de passage; She tried for to breathe, but by greef ofercome, Her head it reel’d round, un she fall’d very dumb. Now Hans Dunder he happen’d to valk in the door, He seed his Katarina lying dead on de floor; A big Bolony sassage tis Selig bor hee side, Says Hans, “I pe tam, ’twas mit this t’ing she died.” Morx-ALE! Now all you young vummins, votefer youdo, =~ Don’t let dat Hans Dunder shpeak somedings mit you, Un all you young fellers, ven you courts in de passage, Dink of Hans un Katarina un de big Bolony sassage. i a THE SINGER'S LIBRARY. TO THE WEST. To the West! to the West! to the land of the free, Where the mighty Missouri rolls down to the sea; Where a man is a man, if he is willing to toil, And the humblest may gather the fruits of the soil; Where children are blessings, and he who hath most, Has aid to his fortune, and riches to boast; Where the young may exult, and the aged may rest, Away, far away, to the land of the West. CHORUS. To the West! to the West! to the land of the free, Where the mighty Missouri rolls down to the sea; Where the young may exult, and the aged may. rest, Away, far away, to the land of the. West. To the West! to the West!’ where the rivers that flow, Run thousands of miles, sparkling out as they go; Where the green waving forests shall echo our call, As wide as old England, and free to us all; Where the prairies, like seas where the billows have roll’d, Are broad as the kingdoms and empires of’old; And the lakes are like oceans in’storms or in rest— Away, far away, to the land of the West. (CHoRUs.) To the West! to the West! there is wealth to be won; A forest to clear is the work to be done;- - We'll try it—we’ll do it—and never despair, While there’s light in the sunshine, or life in the air; The bold independence that labor shall buy, Shall strengthen our hearts,and forbid us to sigh; Away, far away, let: us: hope for the» best, For a home is a home, in the land of the West. (CHorus.) Parody on “To The West !” To the West! to the West, I once went, do you see, And one visit, I’m sure, was sufficient for me; Oh, the things that I saw there, they frighten’d me quite, And ever since then, sirs, I’ve scarcely been right. My children got sick every day, sirs, almost, And my wife took the chills, and got deaf as a post; Oh, there’s some,;may-exult, but forme, sirs; I’m bless’d If I haven’t as much as I-want of the West. To the, West! to the. West, ete. To the West! to the West! where the rivers that flow, Are full of great big alligators, you know; Where'the snakes in ‘the forest make you feel precious queer, And you don’t see a bar-room not.twice in a year... And if cross the prairie you happen to go, You're sure to be toss’d by some wild buffalo; Where the lakes are like children—they’re never at.rest, ’Pon my word, sirs, I soon had enough of the West. To the West! to the West, etc. At the West they told me there was wealth to be won, The forest to clear, was the work to be done; I tried it—couldn’t do it—guv it up in despair, And just see if you'll eyer again catch me there. The little snug farm I expected to buy, I quickly discover’d was just Sa my eye; I came back like a streak—you may go— ‘put I’m bless’d _ If you'll ever again, sirs, catch me at the West. To the West! to the West, etc, PRETTY JANE. f My pretty Jane, my pretty. Jane, » Ah! never look'so shy, But meet me in the evening, While the bloom, the bloom is on the 1 rye. The spring is waning fast, my Jove, The corn is in the ear, The summer nights are coming, love, The moon shines bright and clear. . Then pretty Jane, my dearest, Jane, Oh, never look so shy, But meet me, meet me in the evening, ae the Prom the bloom is on the rye, The days are come, when this poor darkey must weep, » But name the day, the wedding-day, _. And I will buy the ring, The lads and maids in favors white, / And the village bells, the village bells shall ring. 4 The spring is waning fast, my love, The corn is in the ear, The summer nights are coming, love, The moon shines bright and clear. Then pretty Jane, my dearest Jane, Ah, never look so shy, But meet me, meet me in the evening, t While the bloom, the bloom is on the rye. owners of the copyright, LILLIE BELL. Copied by | permission of, Firra, Porn & Co., 547 Broadway, New York: On the:grave near massa’s dwelling, You remember, darkies, well, Stands a stone, so silent, telling Where sleeps gentle Lillie Bell; Where, in spring, the tall bananas To the winds their branches wave, Guarding well from every danger Gentle: Lillie’s lonely grave. Crorvs+ , Lillie! long-lost. Lillie! ro thy grave amid the dell Our hearts are sadly turning, Gentle Lillie, Lillie Bell, Oh! darkies, how my heart is yearning, Once to see that grave again; Memory. backward quickly turning, Frees my breast from present pain, But those days have gone forever— Lost beneath life’s angry wave; I weep no more; my heart is buried With my Lillie in her grave. (CHORUS.) "Twas last eve I saw her beckon, Far up in the azure sky, Bidding me to quickly hasten To her new-found home on high. Then, darkies, take me quickly, take me Where the tall bananas wave; For my heart will cease its sighing Near my Lillie’s lonely grave. (CHonvus.) Darling Jenny Bell. For the one that he used to love best, Who now lies asleep, in the dark grave so deep, And 'the sweet flowers bloom o’er her breast, She’s gone to that land where the bright spirits go, She’s gone far away to dwell; Shall I never see the smile again Of my darling Jenny Bell? I remember the day: when we walk’d side by ide, » *Way down in old Tennessee, ’Twas there that I promised to make her my bride, As we sat beneath the old pine-tree; But now she has gone to that bright land above, In joy and freedom to dwell, Shall I never see the smile again Of my darling Jenny Bell? Now I’m left all alone in this wide.world to roam, ’Midst the throng.of the happy and free, é ‘And not one left to love, as that one who has gone, And now sleeps beneath the old pine-tree; . But there is a land where the darkeys go, L heard sweet Jenny once : Tl see you:in that happy Se . My darling, Jenny Bell. ‘ ( { | { ( | . eo BEADLE’S HALF-DIME LIBRARY. | 1 Deadwood Dick, tue Prince or THE Roap. by Edward L. Wheeler. 2 Yellowstone Jack. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 3 Kansas King; or, Tam Rep Ricur Hann. By Buffalo Bill (Hon. Wm. F’. Cody). 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Captain Mayne Reid and Captain Frederick Whittaker. ! 5 Vagabond Joe, THE Youne WANDERING JEW; or, ‘G FoR A Lecacy. By Oll Coomes. 6 Bill Biddon Trapper. By E. &. Ellis. 7 The wiying. ankee; or, THE OcEAN Ovt- cast. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 8 Seth Jones. By Edward §, Ellis. 9 Adwentures of Baron Munchausen, 10 Nat Todd. By E.S. Ellis, 411 The Two Detectives, A.W. Aiken. 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 13 The Dumb » By Oll Coomes. 14 Aladdin; or, Tae Wonperrcut Lame, 15 The Sea-Cat. By Captain Fred. Whittaker. 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Illustrations.) 17 Ralph Boy, tar Boy Buccaneer; or, THE Fueitrve Yacut. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. 19 The Phantom Spy. By Buffalo Bill. 20 The Double Daggers. By E. L. Wheeler. 21 The Frontier Angel. By Edw 8. Ellis. 22 The Sea Serpent; or, THz Boy Rosinson Crusor. By Juan Lewis. 23 Nick o? the Night. By T. C. Harbaugh. 24 Diamond Dirk. By Colonel P. Ingraham. j 25 The Boy Captain. By Sour Starbuck, 26 Cloven Hooft, raz Burrato Demon; or, THE Borprer Voutures. By Edward L. Wheeler. 27 Antelope Abe, THE Boy Guipz. Oll Coomes 28 Buffalo Ben, THE Prince or THE PisTOL; or, DEApwoop Dick sn DiseuisE. E. L. Wheeler. 29 The Dumb Page. By Capt. F. Whittaker. 30 Roaring Ralph Rockwood, THE REGK- LESS RANGER. By Harry St. —. 31 Keen-Knife, Prince or THE IRIES. By mes. 32 Bob Woolf, THe Borper RvFFian; or, THE Gru Drap-SHor. By Edward L. Wheeler. 33 The Ocean Bloodhound. 6. W. Pierce. 34 Oregon Sol; or, Nick WauirFies’ Boy Spy By Capt. J. F. G. Adams. 35 Wil Ivan, THE Boy Ciaupe Duvat; or, THE BROTHERHOOD OF DEATH. = Ed. L. eeler. 36 The Boy Clown... By Frank S. Finn. 37 The Hidden Lodge. By T. O, Harbaugh. 38 Ned Wylde, THE Boy Scour. By Texas Jack. 39 Death-Face, THE Derrecrive. By Wheeler. 40 Roving Ben. By J. J. 5 41 Lasso Jack. ByOll Coomes. 42 Khe Phantom Winer. By E. L. Wheeler. 43 Dick Darling, THE Pony RIDER. 4 Capt. Frederick Whittaker. 44 KRattling Rube. By Harry St. George. 45 Old Avalanche, THE GREAT ANNIHILATOR; or, WILD EDNA, THE. Gren Brie@anp. E. L. Wheeler. 46 Glass Eye, THe ;Great SHoT oF THE WEsT. cf Capt. J. F.C. Adams. 47 Nightingale Nat. By T. C. Harbaugh. 48 Black John, Tue Rodp-Acent. B: Badger: 49 Omaha Oli, By Edward L. Wheeler. 50 Burt Bunker, raz Traprm. C. E. Lasalle. 51 The Boy Rifles. By Archie C. Irons. 52 The White Buffalo. By. C. E. Lasalle. 53 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., tax Boy PHENTX; or, THrover To DeaTa. By Edward L. Wheeler. 54 Ned Hazel. By Capt. J. F. 0. Adams. 55 Deadly - Eye, Tax Unknown Scour; or, THE Branpep BRoTHERHOOD. By Buffalo Bi 56 Nick Whifiles’ Pet. t, J. F. C, Adams. 57 Deadwood Dick’s Eagles. By Wheeler. 58 The Border King. By Oll Coomes, 59 Old ot i By Hai St. George. re 60 The White Indian. pt. J. re Adams. 61 Buckhorn Bill. By Edward L. Wheeler. 62 The Shadow Ship. By Col. P. Ingraham. 63 The Red Brotherhood. W. J, Hamilton. 64 Dandy Jack. By T. C. Harbaugh. 65 Hurricane Bill. od Jos. E, Badger, Jr 66 Single Hand. B . J. Hamilton. 67 Patent-leather Joe. By Philip 8. Warne. 68 Border Robin Hood. B ‘alo Bill. 69 Gold Rifle. Edward L. ; 70 Old Zip’s Cabin. By Cae J. F. C, Adams. 71 Delaware Dick. By Oll Coomes. 32 Mad Tom Western. By W. J. Hamilton. 73 Deadwood Dick on Deck * or, CaLamrry JANE, THE HeRowe or WHOoP-Up_ By Wheeler. 74 Hawk-eye Harry. By OW Coomes. 75 The Boy Duelist. By Col. P. ham. 76 Abe Colt, raz Crow-Kiizr. By A. W. Aiken. 77 Sano Charlie, THE Boy Bravo; or, Derapwoop Dick’s Last Act. By E. L. Wheeler. 78 Blue Dick, By Captain Mayne Reid. 79 Sol Ginger, Gur TRAPPER. By A.W. Aiken. 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nvacer Neo, THE KNIGHT or THE GutcH. By Edward L. Wheeler. 81 Lightning Jo. By Captain J. F. C. Adams. 82 Kit Haretoot. By T. C. Harba 83 Rollo, the Boy Ranger. Oll Coomes. 84 cog Girl Miner. By E. L. Wheeler. 85 Buck Buckram, By Capt? J. F. C, Adams. 86 Dandy Rock. By G, Walle browne 87 The Land Pirates. By Capt. Mayne Reid. 88 Photograph Phil, raz Boy Srxevrs; or, Rosepup Ron's REAPPEARANCE. By E. L. Wheeler. 89 Island Jim. By Bracebri Hemyng. 90 The Dread Rider. By @ Wane aeene 91 The Captain of the Club; or, Taz Your Rivau Atuueres. By Bracebridge Hemyng. 92 Canada Chet. By Edward L. Wheater 93 The Boy Miners. By Edward 8. Ellis. 94 Midnight Jack, THE Roap. > or, _ Tam Boy Trapper. By T.C. Harbaugh. 95 The Rival Rovers. Lieut. Col. Hazeltine, 96 Watch-Kye, THE SHApow. By EK. L. Wheeler. 97 The Outlaw Brothers, By J. J. Marshall. 98 Robin Hood, THE OvTLAWweD Fart; or, THE Merry Men of GREENWOOD. Prof. Gildersleeve. 99 The Tiger of Taos. By G. Waldo Browne. 100 Deadwood Dick in LeaAville; or, A Srrance STROKE FOR LiseRTy. By Wheeler. 101 Jack HMarkaway in New Bracebridge Hi ng. 102 Dick ead=Eye. By Col. In ™m. 103 The Lion of the Sea. By Col. Delle Sara. 104 Deadwood Dicks Device. By Wheeler. 105 Old Rube, THE HunrEr. ro . Holmes. 106 Old Frosty, Taz Gunz. By T. C. Harbaugh. 107 One-Eyed Sim, By James L. Bowen. 08 Daring paey. By Harry St. George. 9 Deadwood ick as Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 0 The Black Steed of the Prairies. A Thrilling Story of Texan Adventure. By Bowen. 1 The Sea-Devil. By Col. P. Ingraham. The Mad Hunter, Burton Saxe. Jack Hoyle, THE Youna SPECULATOR; Or, Tue Roap To Fortuns. By Ed. L. Wheeler. The Black Schooner. Roger Starbuck. The Mad Miner. By G. Waldo Browne.§ Whe Hussar Captain. Col. P, Ingraham. 7 Gilt-Edged Dic 9 THE Sport DETECTIVE; or, THE AD-AGENT’s DAUGHTER. Wheeler. 118 Will Somers, THe Boy Detective. Morris. 119 Mustang Sam. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 120 The Branded Hand. By Frank Dumont. 121 Cinnamon Chip, THe Girt Sport; or, THE GoLpEN Ino or Mr. Rosa. Ed. L. Wheeler. 122 Phil Mardy, Tux Boss Boy. By C. Morris. 123 Hiaus, Charley, THe WHITE MusTANGER, By T. 0. Harbaugh. ork, i By ane WH 1 10 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 11 124 Tippy, THE Texan. By George Gleason. 125 Bonanza Bill, Mixer. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 126 Picayune Pete. By Charles Morris. 127 Wild-Fire, Boss or THe Roap. By Dumont. 128 The Young Privateer. By H. Cavendish. 129 Deadywooed Dick’s Double. By Wheeler. 130 Detective Dick. By Charles Morris. 131 The Golden Hand. By Geo. W. Browne. 132 The Hunted Hunter. By Kd. 5. Ellis. 133 Boss Bob, rue Kine or THE BooTBLACKS: or, THE PAWNBROKER’s Plot, Ed. L. Wheeler, 134 Sure Shot Seth, Tue Boy Rirteman; or THE Youne Patriots of THE NortH. By Ol mes. 135 Captain Paul, raz Kerrucky MoonsHINER; or, THe Boy Spy oF THE Mountarms. By Clark. 136 Night-Hawk Kit, By Jos. KE. Badger, Jr. 137 The Helpless Hand. Capt. Mayne Reid, 138 Blonde Bill; or, Drapwoop Dicx’s Home Base. By Edward L, Wheeler. 139 Judge Lynch, Jr. By T. C. Harbaugh. 140 Blue Blazes; or, Toe Break 0’ Day Boys or Rocky Bar. By ¥rank Dumont. 141 Solid Sam, THE Boy Roap-AGent; or, THE BranDED Brows. By Edward L: Wheeler. 142 Handsome Marry, THe Boorstack Der- tTrctTIvE. By Charles Morris. 148 Scar-Face Saul. By Oll Coomes. 144 Dainty Lance, THE Boy Sport. By Badger. 145 Captain Ferret, Tax New York Derec- TIvE; or, Boss Bos’s Boss Jos, By Wheeler, 146 Silver Star, THe Boy Knicut. By Coomes. 147 Will Wildfire, THe THoxovcHBRED; or, Tue Wrxnine Hand. By Charles Morris. 148 Sharp Sam. By J. Alexander Patten. 149 A Game of Gold}; or, DEApwoop Dicx’s Bie Srrixz. By Edward L. Wheeler. 150 Lance and Lasso. By Capt. F. Whittaker. 151 Panther Paul, Taz Prarim Prats; or, Dainty LANCE TO tue Rescur. J.B. Badger. 152 Black. Bess, Wm. WiLprtre’s Racer; or, Winnina AGamnst Opps. By Charles Morris. 153 Eagle Kit, rae Boy Drwon. By Oll Coomes. 154 The Swerd Hunters. By F. Whittaker, 155 Gold Trigger, THz Sport. T. C. Harbaugh. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood; or, Tue Pickep Parry. By Edward L. Wheeler. 157 Mike Merry, THz Harsor Pouce Boy; or, Tae Nigut-HAwks oF PHILADELPHIA. Morris. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado. Buffalo Bill 159 The Lost Captain. By Whittaker. 160 The Black Giant. By J. E. Badger, Jr. 161 New York Nell, raz Boy-Gmt Derecrrvz; or, OLD BLAKEsLY’s Mongy. By E. L. Wheeler. 162 Will Wildfire in the Woods, Morris. 163 Little Texas, rez Young MusTancer. A Tale of Texan Prairies, By Oll Coomes, 164 Dandy Rock’s Pledge. By G.W. Browne, 165 BMY, Ease Sy Gama 2 166 Hickory Harry. By Harry St. George. 167 Asa Scott, Tse StzAmpoaTBoy. By Willett, 168 Deadly Dash. By Jos. EB. Badger, Jr. 169 Tornado Tom. By T. C. Harbaugh. & Tramp Card; or, Wm. Witprme Wis aoe AND Louse: By Charles Morris. 171 Ebony Dan. By Frank Dumont. 172 Thunderbolt Tom. By Harry St. George. 173 Dandy Rock’s Rival. By G.W. Browne. 174 Bob Rockett, Taz Boy Dopeemr. By Morris. 175 Captain Arizona. By Philip S. Warne. 176 The Boy Bunaway 3 or, THE BUCCANEER oF THE Bay. Lieut. H. D. Perry, U.S.N. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada. EK, L, Wheeler. 178 Old Solitary. By Oli Coomes. 179 Bob Rockett, raze Bank Runner. Morris. 180 The Sea Trailer; or, A Vow WELL Kzpr. By Lieut. H. D, Perry, U. BN. ¢ 181 Wild Frank, ree Buoxsxix Bravo; or, Lapy Liuy’s Love, By Edward L. Wheeler. 182 Little Hurricane, THn Boy Caprain. By Oll Coomes. 183 The Hidden Hand. By Chas. Morris. 184 The Boy Trailers. By Badger, Jr. 185 Evil Eye, Krxe or Carrie THirves; or, Tae Formal oF THE Rio Granve. By F. Dumont. 186 Cool Desmond, By Col. Delle Sara. 187 Fred Halyard, tas Lire Boar Boy; or, THE SMUGGLERS oF THE IntET. By C. Morris. 188 Ned Temple, raz Borpmr Boy, Harbaugh | 189 Bob Rockett, THz Onacgsmsn. By Morris. 190 Dandy Darke. By Wm. R. Eyster. 191 Buffalo a _ tHe Boy BULLWHACKER. By Capt. A. B. éylor, U. S.A. 192 Captain Kit. By Lieut. H.D. Perry,U.S.N. 193 Captain Mask, Tur Lavy Roap-AGENT; or, PaTent-LEATHER Jor’s Dergatr. By Warne 194, Buffalo Bill’s Bet. By Captain Taylor. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream. By Wheeler. 196 Shadowed}; or, Bos Rockert’s FicHT FoR Lirz. By Charles Morris. 197 Little Grit, raz Wimp River. By Ingraham. 198 Arkansaw, THE Man WITH THE KniFE, By T. C. Har bh. 199 Featherweight. By Edward Willett. 200 The Boy Bedouins,. By Whittaker. 201 The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Dzap- woop Dicx’s Warp. By Edward L. Wheeler. 202 Prospect Pete, or THE Boy BRIGADE; or, Tae Youne w Hunters. By Oll Coomes. 203 Khe Boy Pards. By Jos. B. Badger, Jr. 204 Gold Plume, Tue Boy Banpir. Ingraham. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom. By Wheeler. 206 Dark Paul, raz Ticrr Kine. By C. Morris. 207 Navajo Nick, rae Boy Gorp Hunrrr, A Tale of Arizona. By T. C. Harbaugh. 208 The Boy Hereules. By Oll Coomes. 209 Fritz, Tae Bounp-Boy Derzcrive. Wheeler. 210 Faro Frank of High Pine. By Eyster. 211 Crooked Cale, THe CALIBAN or CELISTIAL Crry. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 212 eens Dave, THE Danpy Detective. ry Charles Morris. 213 Fritz to the Front, By.E. L. Wheeler, 214 Wolfgang, THe RosBer oF THE RHINE. By Captain Frederick Whittaker. 215 Contin Bullet, Taz Ramer Kuve. By T. C. Harbaugh. By Col. Prentiss 217 Captain Crack-Shot. By E. L. Wheeler. 218 Tiger Tom, THe Texan Terror. By Oll mes. 219 Despard, the Duelist. By P. 8. Warne. 220 Tom Tanner, ScaLawaG@ AND SCAPEGRACE. By Charles Morris. 221 Sugar Coated Sam, By E, L. Wheeler. 222 Grit, the Bravo Sport. By Ingraham, 223 Ozark Alf, Kine or THe Movnram. By Edward Willett. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castie, By Oll Coomes. 216 Bison Bill, raz Prrmce or THE Res. Ingraham. 225 Sam Charcoal, the Premium Dar- key. By Charles Morris. 226 Snoozer, THE Boy Smarr, By Edward L. ‘Wheeler. 227 Dusky Darrell, Trarrzr. By E. Emerson. 228 Little Wildfire. _By Oll Coomes. 229 Crimson Kate, ras Gmu Trane. By Col. Prentiss. Ingraham. 230 The Yankee Rajah. By C.D. Clark. 231 Plucky Phil, or rae Mounts Tran. By T..C. Harbaugh. Ready Dec. 27th. By E. L. Wheeler, Gold-Dust Dick. ee Ready Jan. 8d. THe Mrssexcmr Bory.. By 3 Sli ry Saw se Charles Morris, Jan. 10th. A new issue every week. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail op receipt of six cents each, BRADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. | 3 eee WI v | ANEW FIELD! . THOUT 4 - Van! - susT THE THING! TR GLEE STRAN ey THAN FICTION! A NEW [LIBRARY Expressly Designed for: “Our, Boys’: True Stories of Stirring Lives! Tales of Actual Peril and Adventure! | ae eae of Sport on Field and Flood! Daring Deeds and Great Achievement, On the oceans and seas—in the deep, silent forests—on the boundless plains—in the mountain fastnesses and the untrailed hills— over the wild game ranges and the cattle ranches—on_ lakes, rivers and lonely lagoons—over the world, everywhere; re being something Wholly Now. and Novel, and giving a literature which in quality, kind, and exciting interest is PECULIARLY THE AMERICAN BOY'S OWN! Each number, a perfect and complete work, from the hand of some noted and well-accredited writer, is a Boox in Irsenr— literally a half-dollar book for a half-dime—and so answers the call, in this day of cheap publications, for a ‘Library ” that is unexceptionable in tone, thoroughly delightful in matter, and so modest in price as to be easily within the reach of every one who cares to read. Issued. weekly. NOW READY AND IN PRESS. ‘No. 1, Adventures of Buffalo. Bill.. From Boyhood to| No. 3. Wild Bill, the Pistol Prince. Remarkable career of Manhood. Deeds of Daring, Scenes of Thrilling Peril, and J. B.. Hikok, (known to the world as “ Wild Bill), giving the — Romantic Incidents in the early life of William F. Cody. By} true story of his adventures and acts. By Col. Prentiss Col. Prentiss Ingraham. , Ingraham. | No. 2. The Ocean Hunters; »or, the Chase of Levia-| No. 4. The Prairié Ranch; or, the weg Cattle Herd: j / than. A Romance of Perilous Adventure. By Captain ers. By Joseph E. pee Jr. . Mayne Reid. QQg7™ An extra large number. Ready Dec. 21st. . BEADLE'S BOY'S LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, * 98 Tiger Street, New eo