Copyrighted 1878, by BzapLE & ADAMs, Price, 5 Cents.

 

 

 

 

¥
CONTENTS OF THIS NUMBER.

PAGE. PAG".
George, The Charmer. .,........ 1 Dear Mother, I’ve Come Home to
Wait Till the Moonlight Falls on {| Die... ........ ...... RE cae

the Water.... .... wectes see 21 Lanigan’s Ball... . ?

“John Barleycorn is a Hero | Don’t You Dare to Kiss Me, Joe
Bold.” hws fon sda meed dome alta er RY. FOUTS | aa

Keep On Kissing Me .. .. 2| 1 Wish TI Was in Dixie’s Land

I Want To Go Home To Mamma! 2 | I’ve Only Been Down to the Club.

Kicking a Man When He’s Down. 8 | The Merriest Girl That’s Out
Nelly Gray , .. 8} Katy Did, Katy Didn't. .

Silver Stars are Softly Gleaming. 8 | Finigan’s Wake. =

| Mulcahy’s Home Again.......... 3 | ““Unsophisticated Love. :
Miss Malony’s Ball —............ 4| Treally Don’t Think I Shall Mar-

“ A Lock of My Mother’s Hair.”’.. 4) TY ince eneeene tense eeeese 1

Alas! My Love’s Away... ....... 4) Poor Juney +s

Over the Mountain....,.......... 4| The Goat .. .....

BE psc doce, ER TE ee | IASO-DOANs sis. lone sop mesa

Answer to a Thousand a Year ... 5; Beautiful Dreamer.

ROGNNE «5; 20! sisccnneaelng iii’ 5 | My Love is Still the Same ......
POT IG BIBVE.. -3 22s ves. on oy sins 5 | “Free and Easy.”’. ‘

Roger O’Malley. . .. 6| Merry Little Birds are We. .....
By the Sad Sea-Waves,........... 6 | Boy With the Auburn Hair. ....
Song of Blanche Alpen........... 6 | Evangeline”... ./..-7. °°...

Away Down East............... . 6| Vegetable Joe . way sueNas
Sweet Lone AvO. cn ses we. apes 7 | Her Pretty, Smiling Fece ......

The Little Blacksmith............ 7 | Never Venture, Never Win!.....
Nelly By o.oo. een Ors 7 | Ada, With the Golden Hair......
A Life on the Ocean Wave....... 7% | The Dashing, Gay Brunette.....
Rock Me to Sleep, Mother..... .. 7| Victorine .

Clear The Way’. ..o0i. 2° ie bee 8 | Castles in the Air.

Brown Eyes thaf Little Maid- | The Female Smuggler. ...... --

OB oissia:cp Rema Be Cuong kta OF cae Oy eet AE APUG... ices ae

1

 

 

SUNG BY ARCHY HUGHES.

As I was walking down the street,
Down the street, oh! down the street,
A pretty girl I chanced to meet,
She was a charmer, oh!
I asked her for to take a walk,
Take a walk, to take a walk,
And then we had some very nice talk,
She was a charmer, oh!

 

SpoKEN— Yes, she was as beautiful as she was fair, with pretty
| red eyes and nice curly hair. And I said tc her: ‘If you love
me as I love you, no carving knife can cut cur love in two—dol-
iars and seventy-five cents worth of oysters.” Sezshe: ‘“‘Whoare
you?” Says I: ‘Don’t you know me? why, I’m—

 

Cuorus—George, the charmer, oh! I oh, I ob, I oh!
from Washington town to Baltimore,
There’s none like George, the charmer, oh!

 

 

Sez she: “Now, George, you look so sweet,

Look so sweet, look so sweet,”

Says she to me: ‘‘ain’t you going to treat
I, Sally the charmer, ok!”

 

 

r
ANY \\\ y | i fA _ \\\
A AS CK WY i \ | Oh! then I took her across the street,
QQ OY \ NN ~

 

 

 

 

 

Across the street, across the street,
This pretty girl I then did treat;
For, she was a charmer, oh!

SPOKEN—Yes, I took her down to an ice-cream saloon. I

Wow HATE | ;
| treated her to everything. Oh! you ought to have seen her eat!
AND SIXTY OTHER SONGS IN THIS ISSUE! | She ate eggshell vudding, nntmeg pies, beefsteak and mutton
é |chops. Then the ramrod came in and wanted to know who wus
|to pay. ‘Why,” she says, “TI ain’t.” ‘Then who is?” says he,
| “Why,” says she, “it’s— (CHORUS.)

Sold by al} newsdeaiers, five cents each; or sent, post rad to any address, on receipt
of six cents per copy. BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St., N

 
  

 

  

2

 

Wait Till the Moonlight Falls on the
Water.

Published by Freperick Biome, 861 Broadway, New York.

Cease your repining, bright eyes are shining,
Fond hearts are melting with fervent love,

Red cheeks are paling, sweethearts bewailing,
Tarry not a moment from the girl you love.

She’s sure to cheer you, when she comes near you,
She’s ever waiting for the sweet, sweet kiss,

If you’re inclin’d for a midnight ramble,
Tell me what you think about a scene like this.

 

 

CHoRUS—Wait till the moonlight falls on the water,
Then take your sweetheart out for a walk,
Mind what you say, boys; that’s how you court her,
Tell her that you’ll wed her when the days grow short.

Softly the moonlight falls on the streamlet,
Silvering each ripple with brilliant ray;
Out in the still night, making the heart light,
Waking up the dickey-birds before the break of day.
Coquetting and flirting, kissing and teasing,
Telling lots of little fibs, and saying they are true;
Some say it’s naughty, but still it’s very pleasing,
Just wait a moment, and I'll tell you what to do. (CHo.)

Homeward retreating, sad heart a-beating,
’Cause she must bid you the last ‘‘ good-night;”
She fondly wishes those stolen kisses,
Would last till the morning’s broad daylight.
Now comes the trial, her home is in sight,
The chord must be snapped that us fondly unite,
Her face she upturned for a last farewell kiss,
And she whispered some words which filled me with bliss,
: (CHORUS, )

 

“John Barleycorn is a Hero Bold.”

Published by E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, New York. Music and words
10 cents.

John Barleycorn is a hero bold
As any in the land,

For ages good, his fame has stood,
And will for ages stand.

The whole wide world respect him,
No matter friend or foe,

Whate’er they be that make too free,
He’s sure to lay them low.

Ouorus—Hey, John Barleycorn—
Ho, John Barleycorn!
Old and young thy praise have sung,
John Barleycorn!

Now see him in his pride of growth,
His robes all rich and green;

His head is spear’ with prickly beard,
Fit knight to serve a queen. —

And when the reaping time comes round,
And John is stricken down;

He yields his blood, for England’s good,
And Englishmen’s renown. (CHORUS.)

The lord in courtly castle,
And the squire in stately hall;
The great of name, of birth and fame,
On John for succor call.
He bids the troubled heart rejoice,
Gives warmth to natures cold;
Makes weak men strong, and Old ones young,
And all men brave and bold. (CHORUS.)

Then shout for great John Barleycorn,
Nor heed the luscious vine;

I’ve not the mind, much charm to find
In potent draughts of wine,

Give me my native nut brown ale,
All other drinks I scorn;

True English cheer is English beer,
Our own John Barleycorn. (CHORUS.)

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THE SINGER’S. LIBRARY.

 

 

 

KEEP ON KISSING ME.

Copied by permission of Freprrick Biume, 861 Broadway, New York,
owner of the copyright. Music and words, 35 cents.
Well thers now! did you ever?
Ma says I’m dreadful bold,
Because when men come courting,
I’m not reserv’d or cold
Now, gents, pray tell me, would you have me
Make a face that’s wry?
Or when you ask me once to kiss you
Like a fool to cry?

Spoxen —No, no! I’m sure you would rather ’d say—

Cuorus—Keep on kissing me, keep on kissing me,
Bless me, Bob, don’t be so shy,
Keep on kissing me, keep on kissing me,
Once more only love to try. y
Keep on kissing me, keep on kissing me,
*Tis the hight’ of true love’s bliss,
Keep on kissing rows to on kissing me,
No joy equals loy Fane —
Bob says not to mind mother, f
When she was young like me,
She ne’er tho’t men a bother,
Or married would not be. ey
And so I thought if men would follow,
I’d not say them nay,
Nor for my mother or any other
Bid them turn away.

- §poxeN—But I’ve made up my mind that when the right one
comes along VIl,say—(CHORUS. )

s
’ I think that Bob means busine

Tho’ not much yet he’s said, _

But truly from his actions, ~
I think he means to wed.

Now should he ask me if I'll have him,
Yl not bid him wait,

And say the sea holds plenty of fishes,
For oft we lose our bait.

Spoxrn—Oh! yes, I tell you, these giddy girls who keep say-
ing, ‘There's just as good fish in the sea as ever were caught!”
they forget that sometimes they lose their bait. Not for me!
Oh, no! Tl continue saying—(CHORUS.)

 

 

I Want To Go Home To Mamma!

I once had a sweetheart,-tho’ her name was Brown,
She was most decidedly green,

But when you have seen her, you'll say she’s as nice
A young, lady as ever was seen;

And then she’s so funny, she’s just like a child;
She lov’d me, but much better far

She lov’d her dear parents, for always she cried,
“T want to go home to Mamma!”

Cxuorus—I want to go home to Mamma,
I want to go home to Mamma,
“Tt’s naughty I say to keep me away,
When | want to go home to Mamma.”

With lots of persuasion, and coaxing, and fuss,
The worst job I’ve had in my life,
I contrived to assure her I loved her so much,
Till she said that she’d be my wife;
We drove to the church, when oh; what a scene!
She would have the door left ajar,
The clergyman said, ‘‘ Will you wed?” she shrieked out—
“No! I want to go home to Mamma!” (CHoRUS.)

At last we were married, oh my, what a job!
To the Continent then off we went,

I’m happy to say, she her nervousness lost
‘When the honeymoon cosey we spent;

So now she’s so diff’rent to what she once was,
We're happy by night, and by day,

Her marriage she says she will never repent,
And never do I hear her say: (CHORUS.)

 

 

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THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. 3

 

 

 

  
 

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Kicking a Man When He’s Down.

Copied by permission of E. H. Harpine, 229 Bowery, New York, owrer
of the copyright. Music and words, 1 cents.
When the sun of prosperity’s shining,
And man’s growing richer each day,
When in ease and in comfort reclining,
And golden success crowns his way,
How friends then will gather around him!
But if fortune should happen to frown,
He finds that his former “good fellows”
Will kick him, as soon as he’s down.

Corvus - When poor and astray, a man’s in the way;
He meets all around him a frown!
Then reckless and sad, he ‘goes to the bad”
Because he is kick’d when he’s down!

How kindly the world smiles upon him,
When life with successes abounds;
How blandly each neighbor will greet him,
As in pleasure he’s riding around!
But then let reverse overtake him,
And his friends, both in country and town,
Have not a kind sentence to cheer him,
But will kick him, as soon as he’s down, (CHO.)

Let a man get position and riches,
No matter by right or by fraud,
The world nods approvingly on him,
And loudly his creatures applaud;
But just let him lose all his treasures,
Tho’ before he was full of renown—
The people find out he has fallen,
And then let him die, when he’s down! (CHORUB.)

Oh! why is all mankind so selfish?
We know it should never be thus;
Then why can’t we do to our neighbors
As we would have them do to us;
And if in ‘‘ adversity's ocean ”
We are sinking, and ready to drown,
Twice blest is the friend whose devotion
Will help a man up when he’s down, (CHoRUvs.)

 

NELLY GRAY.

There's a low green valley on the old Kentucky shore,
There I've whiled many happy hours away,

A-sitting and a-singing by the little cottage door
Where lived my darling Nelly Gray.

CHORUS,

Oh, my poor Nelly Gray, they have taken you away,
And T’ll never see my darling any more,

I’m sitting by the river and I’m weeping all the day,
For you’ve gone from old Kentucky shore,

When the moon had climb’d the mountain, and the stars were
shining, too,
Then I'd take my darling Nelly Gray,
And we’d float down the river in my little canoo—
While my banjo sweetly I would play. (CHoRUs.)

One night I went to see her, but she’s gone, the neighbors say,
The white man bound her with his chain—

They have taken her to Georgia for to wear her life away,
And she toils in the cotton and the cane, (CHORUS.)

My canoe is under water, and my banjo is unstrung,
I’m tired of living any more;

My eyes shall look downward, and my songs shall be unsung
While I stay on old Kentucky shore. (CHORUS.)

My eyes are getting blinded and I cannot see my way,
_ Hark! there’s somebody knocking at the door;
Oh, I hear the angels calling, I see my Nelly Gray;
Farewell to the old Kentucky shore.

CHORUS.
Oh, my Nelly Gray, up in heaven there they say
That they'll never take you from me any more;
I'm a-coming, coming, coming, as the angels clear the way;
Farewell to the old Kentucky shore.

 

Silver Stars are Softly Gleaming.

Published by Freprrick Biume, 861 eet New York. Music and

words, 85

Silv’ry stars are softly gleaming
In the peaceful evening sky,

And I think my love is dreaming,
Sweetly dreaming I am nigh.

O’er her eyes like dewy pansies,
Silken lashes gently sweep,

And the angels guard are keeping
Round my darling’s peaceful sleep.

Cxorvus—Silv’ry stars are softly gleaming

In the azure arch above,
And I know that thou art dreaming,
Dreaming, dear, of me and love,

Breezes blowing from the southland,
Where the summer never dies,
Go and kiss her lips in slumber,
Kiss my darling’s pansy éyes;
Whisper to her softly, gently,
Of the one from whom you ‘came,
And I know that in her slumber,
She will smile and speak my name. (CHORUS.)

Sleep, and may the angels keep you,
Ever, always, in their care;
May your life-dreams be as pleasant
As your dreams in slumber are.
Sleep, and dream of him who loves you
With a love both deep and strong,
And your dreams shall be an echo
Of his little starlight song. (CHORUs.)

 

MULCAHY’S HOME AGAIN.

Copied by ae Ty of E. H. Harpine, 229 Bowery, New York, owner

of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents.

I come with news to-night, me boys,
Just heed me for awhile;
My song will give delight, me boys,
For it makes me grin and smile,
You’ve heard about that famous man
Who left us all in pain,
Sure, he’s back at last, all safe and sound!
Mulcahy’s home again!

CHorvus—Then shout, and cheer, and drink yer beer,

No more in grief remain;
For now the cry is, ev’rywhere,
Mulcahy’s home again!

I met him down in Chambers street,
A week ago to-day;

And. when I shook his friendly hand,
Sure, I thought I’d faint away!
He’s big and stout, and walks about

In dress both nate and clane;
Says I with glee, ‘Oh can this be
Mulcahy home again?” (CHORUS.)}

I asked him why he strayed away,
And left us all behind?
But divil a word would he reply
To satisfy me mind;
He may have lived in foreign lands.
In Jarsey, or in Spain;
But none will care from whence he came,
When he’s home with us again, (CHORUS,

He talks no more of politics,
He says he’s had enough,

To stand their capers and their tricks,
One must be bold and tough!

He thinks he’ll start a corner store,
And paint a sign so plain,

To greet us when we reach the door—

“ Mulcahy’s home again!” (CHORUS.)

-

  

 

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THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

 

 

MISS MALONY’S BALL.

Copied b rmission of E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowe’
e oe of the copyright. Mints and pore
Malony was a tinker
And he lived in Dublin town,
As a singer and a dancer :
He was known for miles around;
He had a daughter Judy,
And he asked me for to call,
“There’s going to be some fun,” says he,
At Miss Malony’s Ball;
And there we had such great delight,
With now then a jolly fight,
Such ructions and destructions,
Faith it was a sight to see;
The Flanagans and Fogartys,
Were there to join the spree.
Oh the punches and the lunches!
Sure they never stopped at all,
I thought the house would tumble down
Fs At Miss Malony’s Ball.

I dressed up like a daisy,

And I took my little stick,
tas And up to ould Malony’s home,
~;! I traveled mighty quick;

I met some girls upon the road,
And in with them did fall,

They came to exercise themselves,
At Miss Malony’s Ball.

Young Rooney with his impudence,
Attempted to advance,

And ask the sweet Miss Flanagan
To join him in the dance.

Sure then I got excited,
And I knocked him through the wall,

They brought him home with broken bone,
From Miss Malony’s Ball,

They brought him home with broken bone,
From Miss Malony’s Ball.

= Mulcahy got so tipsy
; He went sprawling on the floor,
And when we got him to his feet,
He tumbled through the door; :
He shouted ‘‘ Melia murther!”
And the girls began to squall,
Which brought the neighbors running in,
To Miss Malony’s Ball.
The whisky made us lively,
And the dust began to fly,
Malony’s daughter fainted,
And we thought she’d surely die;
We picked her up and brought her to,
When loudly she did call,
‘Long life to all the decent boys”
At Miss Malony’s Ball.

New York, owner
0 cents.

 

 

“A Lock of My Mother’s Hair.”

Written and sung by Frank Dumont, Duprez and Benedict’s Minstrels.

ve a letter that was written long ago—

Tis a letter that I’ve kept for many years,
And oh! how oft I’ve read those fading lines!

And over them, there’s traces of my tears.
She sent me her blessings in this missive;

To see me was her constant holy pray’r;
The little lock of gray in this old letter

Is a lock of my angel mother’s hair.

CxHorus—l’ve a letter that was written long ago,
Tis a letter that I keep with tender care,
The little lock of gray in this old letter
Is a lock of my angel mother’s hair.

Py + letter that was written long ago; ;
’Tis a letter that was sent me ’cross the sea }

When ’mong strangers I was wandering far away 4
a2 longing home again to ever be;

Buv uncerneath the sod my mother’s sleeping;
She’s free from earthly trials and earth’s care,

 

 

Alas! My Love’s Away.

Copied by permission of Wm. A. Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York,
owners of the copyright. Music and words, 35 cents,
I ramble by the brookside, (
I linger in the dell,
While all my senses seem benumb’d,
As by some magic spell.
‘I wander aimlessly about,
From morn till twilight gray,
But meet with naught to comfort me,
Alas! my love’s away.
The flow’rs have lost their odor,
The birds have lost their song,
There is no music in the rill
That gayly speeds along;
The hours creep slowly, sadly on,
Through all the live-long day;
And, when night comes, I can not rest,
Alas! my love’s away.

CHorus—Ah! my love, sweet my love!
How dark and drear the day!
There’s naught in life to comfort me—
Alas! my love’s away.

Oh, tyrant love! so honey-sweet! '
Thou hast me in thy net;

But give me, I implore thee, sprite,
The power to forget.

My thoughts are eating out my heart,
And when I strive to pray,

The words fall back upon my soul,
Because my love’s away.

The world, so bright and joyous, seems
A wilderness to me,

And when alone, or ’mid the throng,
One face I only see;

My eyes are ever wet with tears,
No task can I essay;

Life is a dreary, weary blank—
Alas! my love’s away. (CHoRus.)

 

OVER THE MOUNTAIN.

Over the mountain wave,
See where they come;

Storm-cloud and wintry wind
‘Welcome them home;

Yet where the sounding gale
Howls to the sea,

There their song peals along
Deep-toned and free.

CxHorvus—Pilgrims and wanderers,
Hither we come;
Where the free dare to be,
This is our home.

England hath sunny dales,
Dearly they bloom;

Scotia hath heather hills,
Sweet their perfume;

Yet through the wilderness
Cheerful we stray,

Native land, native land,
Home far away! (CHOoRUS.)

Dim grew the forest path,
Onward they trod;

Firm beat their noble hearts,
Trusting in God;

Gray men and blooming maids,
High rose their song,

Hear it sweep clear and deep,
Ever along. (CHoRUus.)

Not theirs the glory wreath
Torn by tne blast:

Heavenward their holy steps, :
Heavenward they pass’d; \

Green be their mossy graves,
Ours be their fame,

While their song peals along
Ever the same. /CHORUS.)

 

 

Bu, sver next my ieart Vil keep her letter. :
i | And tne lock oi iuy augel mother’s hair = {CHo.)

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

RAY

 

 

    

 

$$ ———
——___ -

 

mini

THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. 5

 

 

J

 

“THE SCAMP.”

Published by E. H. Harding, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents.

I fiatter myself I’m a rogue,
And candidly own I’m a cad,
A sbarp, a leg, a vagabond,
And ev’rything else that is bad.
I prov’d to my parents a bane,
A perfect young fiend to my nurse,
And every year I continue to live,
I’m getting from bad to worse.

Cxrorvus— Oh! if there was ever a scamp
I flatter myself I am he,
From William the Norman, to Brigham the Mormon,
They can’t hold a candle to me,

I was leader in mischief at school,
Though always so humble and mesk,
And when I discovered a chance of reward,
I was always informer and sneak.
By the evil example I set,
Other boys into mischief were led,
But I always managed to pocket the spoil,
And get other boys wolloped instead. (CHORUS.)

When a man I went into the world,
I plundered the helpless and poor,
Yet always got off with a snug little sum,
When it came to a question of law.
I started benevolent funds,
And spouted at Exeter Hall,
I started Loan Offices, Hospitals, Clubs,
And finally swindled them all. (CHorwvs.)

In the city my name I keep up,
And swindling comp’nies promote,

Yet always creep out with the bulk of the funds,
Before it’s found out it won’t float;

I’m an alderman and as ‘“‘M. P.”
To stand I’ve received an invite,

And if I get in, why, my party I'll sell,

And Gladstone will make me a knight. (CHoRUS.)

 

Answer to a Thousand a Year.

“Have you heard the strange news just come down, Gaffer Green,
That they’re talking of now far and near? ;
How young Robin Ruff has his wish sure enough,
And he’s now got a thousand a year, Gaffer Green!
He’s now got a thousand a year!”

“Young Rob’s a good heart, and I’m glad, Master Cross,
Oh, it will not spoil him, never fear!
Tn the face of the poor he will not shut his door.
Though he has got a thousand a year, Master Cross!
Though he has got a thousand a year!”

“ But twould be but the way of the world, Gaffer Green,
If he did not see now quite so clear;
They say yellow mists rise, and soon dim a man’s eyes,
When he once gets a thousand a year, Gaffer Green!
When he once gets a thousand a year!”

“Robin’s eyes were not dim t’other day, Master Cross,
When his poor old friend Harry was here;
Robin soon cured his pain, and soon made sunshine again,
With a touch of his thousand a year, Master Cross!
With a touch of his thousand a year!’

“Ah! but Rob must take care, must take care, Gaffer Green,
Or he'll spend all his new-gotten gear;
How much better ’twould be—he may want it, you see —
If he saved all his thousand a year, Gaffer Green!
If he saved all his thousand a year!”

“Tf he spends the last pound that he’s got, Master Cross,
He'll be richer than some folks, I fear;

For a heart such as Rob’s, though ’neath tatters it throbs,
Is worth ten times a thousand a year, Master Cross!

Is worth ten times a thousand a year!”

 

 

BEN BOLT.

Copied by permission of Prrrers & Sons, Fourth street, Cincinnati, O.,
owners of the copyright.
Don’t you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?
Sweet Alice, with hair so brown,
Who blush’d with delight if you gave her a smile,
And trembled with fear at your frown?
In the old church-yard in the valley, Ben Bolt,
In a corner obscure and lone,
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray,
And Alice lies under the stone.

Under the hickory tree, Ben Bolt,
That stood at the foot of the hill,
Together we’ve lain in the noonday shade,
And listen’d to Appleton’s mill.
The mill-wheel has fallen to pieces, Ben Bolt,
The rafters have tumbled in,
And a quiet that crawls round the wall as you gaze,
Takes the place of the olden din.

Do you mind the cabin of logs, Ben Bolt,
That stood in the pathless wood?
And the button-ball tree with its motley boughs,
That nigh by the door-step stood?
The cabin to ruin has gone, Ben Bolt,
You would look for the tree in vain; ;
And where once the lords of the forest stood,
Grows grass and the golden grain. .

And don’t you remember the school, Ben Bolt?
And the master, so cruel and grim?

And the shady nook in the running brook,
Where the children went to swim?

Grass grows on the master’s grave, Ben Bolt,
The spring of the brovuk is dry;

And of all the boys who were school-mates then
There are only you and I!

There’s a change in the things I love, Ben Bolt?
They have changed from the old to the new;

But I feel in the core of my spirit the truth,
There never was a change in you.

Twelvemonths twenty have pass’d, Ben Bolt,
Since first we were friends, yet I hail

Thy presence a blessing, thy friendship a truth,
Ben Bolt of the salt-sea gale!

 

POOR OLD SLAVE.

Copied by permission of RussELi & ee Boston, owners of the copy-
right.

Tis just one year ago to-day,
That I remember well,

I sat down by poor Nelly’s side
A story she did tell;

’T was about a poor, unhappy slave
That lived for many a year;

But now he’s dead and in his grave,
No master does he fear.

Cxrorus—The poor old slave has gone to rest,
We know that he is free;
Disturb him not, but let him rest,
Way down in Tennessee.

She took my arm, we walk’d along
- Into an open field,

And here she paused to breathe awhile,
Then to his grave did steal.

She sat down by that little mound,
And softly whisper’d there,

“Come to me, father, ’tis thy child,”

Then gently dropp’d a tear. (CHORUS.)

But since that time, how things have changed,
Poor Nelly that was my bride,

Is laid beneath the cold grave-sod,
With her father by her side.

I planted there upon her grave,
The weeping-willow tree,

I bathed its roots with many a tear,

That it might shelter me. (CHORUS.)

  

TE TS EE

   

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

eo THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

 

=

 

 

 

 

ROGER O'MALLEY. SONG OF BLANCHE ALPEN.

 

° : Copied by permission of E, H. Harpina, 229 Bowery, New York, owner Copied by permission of Frrru, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York,
of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents. owners of the copyright. :
My name is O’Malley—understand, You speak of sunny skies to me—
And don’t begin for to doubt me! Of orange grove and bower—
I own my own house, and a bit 0’ land; Of winds that wake soft melody
There’s no common stock about me}! From leaf and blooming flower;
I went to college, when a boy, And you may prize those far-off skies,
And left with heaps of lore, But tempt not me to roam, q
And came out here to this free land, In sweet content my days are spent, j
Just previous to the war. 5 Then wherefore leave my home?
In sweet content my days are spent, j
CHorus—Roger O'Malley, that’s my name! Then wherefore leave my home?
Quite famous I have grown; ‘ .
I'm far suparior to Muldoon, You tell me oft of rivers bright,
Where golden galleys float;

Mulcahy, or Malone!
But have you seen our lakes by night,

Or sail’d in Alpine boat?

‘You speak of lands where hearts and hands
Will greet me as I come,

But though I find true hearts and kind,
They’re kinder still at home.

But though I find true hearts and kind,
They’re kinder still at home.

Pm quite independent in my way,
High-toned and well educated;

All my taxes I’m ready for to pay,
And I’m not in the least dissipated;

I can take a drink and smoke a cigar
With comfort and delight,

But you'd never see me loafin’ round

 

 

SAS Vee re, Cerne Had you been rear’d by Alpine hills, i|
dace: moan Or lived in Alpine dells, 1
* i Pi poy pedir a You'd prize, like me, our mountain rills,
” Like all my seven generations; ? y
y Seerats et Nor fear the torrent swells.
Wiise good deal of-Pacnte St sy rind, It matters not how drear the spot
; Lif cogyehisn'g on important occasions; How proud or poor the dome,
Rage Seve: Son Frees, Love still retains some deathless chains,
a a = Gee neues veh One That binds the heart to home, |
mes oe UL. nat-cateh ine in any trape, Love still retains some deathless chains, ae
For l’m sensible and sound. (CHoRUus.) That tide digmeeek to hone, j

I’m a Marshal whenever we parade,
I ride a horse from Araby; 7
a With a big stick of honor in my hand, qa
Sure, in martial affairs I’m no baby. AWAY DOWN EAST. a

Tate my fill and wear good clothes,

 

Made up in style, you see, There’s a famous fabled country, never seen by mortal eyes,
My walk is grand, and plainly shows Where the pumpkins they are growing, and the sun is said to rise;
That there’s no such man as me! (CHORUS.) Which man does not inhabit, neither reptile bird nor beast;

And this famous fabled country is away down East.

 

It’s called the land of notions, of apple-sauce and greens,
A paradise of pumpkin pies, and the land of pork and beans;
But where it is, who knoweth? neither mortal man nor beast;

BY THE SAD SEA-WAVES. __ But one thing wore assured of, "tis away down Hast i
| a
Copied by permission of Frrrx, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York, | Once a man in Indiana took his bundle in his hand, 4
owners of the copyright. And he came to New York city to seek this fabled land; a
- But how he stares on learning, what was new to him at least, 4)
, ern ap titan That this famous fabled country is further down East. : 4
»
A oe o’er graves Then off he goes to Boston, with all his main and might,
I f hope and pleasure gone. He puts up at the Tremont House, quite sure that all is right;
I ne —- But they tell him in the morning, a curious fact at least,
he hadn’t yet to get . *
Witte she ddl of ihe uions That he n't yet begun to get away down East.
To the setting of the sun, \ Then he hurries off to Portland with his bundle in his hand,
Yet I pine like a slave, i And he sees Mount Joy, great joy for him, for this must be the
By the sad sea-wave. land;
Pooh! nonsense, man, you’re crazy, for doubt not in the least,
Come again, bright days ‘You'll go a long chalk further, ere you find down Hast. :
Of hope and pleasure gone;
Come again, bright days, Then away through mud to Bangor, by which he soils his drabs,
Come again, come again, The first that greets his vision is a pyramid of slabs; j
Why this, says he, is Egypt, here’s a pyramid at least, ame
From my care last night, And he thought that with a vengeance he had found down Last. 4
By holy sl be
ia he tide Giacaitioas ” My gracious! yes, he’s found it; see how he cuts his pranks;
My home upon me smiled. us He’s sure he can’t get further for the piles of boards and planks;
Oh, how sweet ’mid the dew ; So pompously he questions a Pat of humble caste, ;
Every flower that I knew ’ Who tells him he hasn’t begun to get away down East. f
Breathed a gentle welcome back Then he meets a n: a
ative, who’s up to snuff, I ween
Bi oh Since aad ages Says he, pointing to a precipice, don’t you see something green?
By the sad tee So off he jumped to rise no more, except he lives on yeast; i
y And that’s what they drink, I think, away down Hast. ae
Come again, dear dream, And now his anxious mother, who’s race is almost run, ‘ae ihe
So peacefully that smiled, Is ever on the look-out to see her rising son; : au
Come again, dear dream, But whether she’ll see him or no, I calculate at least,

 

Come again, come again. ; Her son is set in regions wet, away down Kast.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

 

Se —

 

 

SWEET LONG AGO.

Copied by permission of E. H. Harprne, 229 Bowery, New York, owner
of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents.
Now there’s no one left to love me,
Friends of old have pass’d away;
Some are glad in lands above me,
Where my fancy loves to stray;
Some in distant homes are dwelling,
Born a joyous life to know,
While I live so sad and lonely,
With my dreams of long ago.

Cxrorus—Sweet long ago, sweet long ago,
Life now no pleasure can bestow;
Pure and bright in lands above me,
Live my friends of long ago.

Oft a friendly smile may greet me,
But its pleasure soon is fled;
Angel smiles in slumber meet me,
When I’m dreaming of the dead.
Days are dark with clouds of sorrow,
Hope is dead within my breast;
Joy to-day, and pain to-morrow,
Till there comes eternal rest. (CHORUS.)

THE LITTLE BLACKSMITH.

We heard his hammer all day long
On the anvil ring, and ring,
But he always came when the sun went down,
To sit on the gate and sing;
His little hands so hard and brown
Cross’d idly on his knee,
And straw-hat lopping over cheeks
As red as they could be.

Cuorus—The hammer’s stroke on the anvil, fill’d
His heart with a happy ring,
And that was why, when the sun went down,
He came to the gate to sing.

 

His blue and faded jacket, trimm’d
With signs of work, his feet
All bare and fair upon the grass,
He made a picture sweet.
For still his shoes, with iron shod,
On the smithy wall he hung,
As forth he came, when the sun went down,
And sat on the gate and sung. (CHORUS.)

The whistling rustic tending cows,
Would keep in pastures near,

And half the busy villagers
Lean from their doors to hear.

And from the time the robin came
And made the hedges bright,

Until the stubble yellow grew,
He never miss’d a night. (CHoRUS.)

 

NELLY BLY.

Nelly Bly! Nelly Bly! bring de broom along,

We'll sweep de kitchen clean, my dear, and hab a little song;
Poke de wood, my lady lub, and make de fire burn,

And, while I take de banjo down, just gib de mush a turn.

Cuorus —Heigh! Nelly, ho! Nelly, listen, lub, to me;
Pil sing for you, play for you, a dulcem melody.

Nelly Bly hab a voice like de turtle-dove,

I hears it in de meadow and I hears it in de grove;

Nelly Bly hab a heart warm as a cup of tea,

And bigger den de sweet potato down in Tennessee. (CHO.)

Nelly Bly shuts her eye when she goes to sleep,
When she wakens up again her eyeballs ’gin to peep;
De way she walks, she lifts her foot, and den she brings it down,
And when it lights, der’s music dah in dat part ob de town.

_ (CHORUS.)
Nelly Bly! Nelly Bly! nebber, nebber sigh,
Nebbor bring de tear-drop to de corner ob your eye;
For de pie is made ob punkins, and de mush is made ob corn,
And der’s corn and punkins plenty, lub, a lyin’ in de barn.

(CHoRUs.)

 

 

 

A Life on the Ocean Wave.

f Wm. Hatt & Son, Music Publishers, 543 Broad-
<i ae oe York, ances of the cany eae.
A life on the ocean wave!
A home on the rolling deep!
Where the scattered waters rave,
And the winds their revels keep!
Like an eagle caged I pine,
On this dull unchanging shore,
Oh, give me the flashing brine,
The spray, and the tempest’s roar!

Once more on the deck I stand,
Of my own swift-gliding craft;
Set sail! farewell to the land,
The gale follows fair abaft.
We shoot through the sparkling foam,
Like an ocean-bird set free;
Like the ocean-bird, our home
We'll find far out on the sea.

The land is no longer in view,
The clouds have begun to frown,
But with a stout vessel and crew,
We'll say let the storm come down!
And the song of our hearts shall be,
While the winds and the waters rave,
A life on the heaving sea!
A home on the bounding wave!

 

Rock Me to Sleep, Mother.

Backward, turn backward, oh Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again, just for to-night;

Mother, come back from the echoless shore,

Take me again to your heart as of yore;

Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumber your loving watch keep,

Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

CHoRvus—Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep,
Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep.

Backward, flow backward, oh tide of the years!

I am so weary of toil and of tears—

Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,

Take them, and give me my childhood again,

I have grown weary of dust and decay,

Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;

Weary of sowing for others to reap—

Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep, (CHORUS.)

Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,

Mother, oh, mother, my heart calls for you!

Many a summer the grass has grown green,

Blossomed and faded, our faces between;

Yet with strong yearnings and passionate pain,

Long I to-night for your presence again!

Come from the silence so long and so deep—

Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. (CHORUS.)

Over my heart, in the days that are flown,

No love like mother-love ever has shone;

No other worship abides or endures,

Faithful, unselfish and patient, like yours!

None like a mother can charm away pain

From the sick soul, and the world-weary brain;
Slumber's soft calm o’er my heavy lids creep—

Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep, (CHORUS.)

Mother, dear mother, the years have been long,

Since I have slept to your lullaby song!

Sing then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream;

Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,

With your light lashes just sweeping my face,

Never, hereafter, to wake or to weep—

Rock me to sleep, mother, rock me to sleep. (CHORUS.)

-

 
 
  
  
   

 
 
  

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

 
 
    
 

 

 

CLEAR THE WAY.

Copied by permission of FE. H. Harprne, 229 Bowery, _ York, owner
of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents.

Hark the drums are sounding near us,
Flags are waving ev’rywhere,

Thoughts of home come back to cheer us,
Shamrocks in our hats we wear.

Now we're going to fall in line,

We're the boys can cut a shine,

We'll forsake the hod and spade

For old Erin’s grand parade.

Crorus—Clear the way! clear the way!

Irish boys are marching;

Shouts of gladness you will hear,
Martial music front and rear.

Clear the way! clear the way!
Erin’s flag is waving;

Down the street we’re sure to meet
Aloud and hearty cheer.

See the marshal bold advancing,
With his hat dressed out in green;
Girls in admiration glancing,
Such a sight was never seen.
Wives and sweethearts view the ranks,
Whisky plays some lively pranks;
All the boys are wild and gay,
While they cheer for Patrick’s day. (CHoRvs.)

‘When the ranks are all disbanded,
For a friendly glass we’ll call,
Talkin’ of the day we landed,
Divil a home we'll go at all.
In our dacent clothes we'll go
To Hibernian Hall below,
There we'll dance our care away
Till we part at break of day. (CHoRUS.)

 

Brown Eyes Has that Little Maiden.

Copied by permission of O. Drrson & Co., 451 Washington = Bostoa,
owners of the copyright. Music and words, 40 cents.
Brown eyes has that little maiden, maiden, maiden,
All with sparkling humor laden, laden,
O’er the meadow green she dances,
Like the sunlit dew her glances.
Brown eyes has that little maiden, maiden, maiden,
All with sparkling humor laden, laden.

And she has a mouth of roses, roses, roses,
Heavenly sweetness it discloses, discloses,
Temptingly for kisses pouting,

Is she then my ardor doubting?

Brown eyes has that little maiden, maiden, maiden,
All with sparkling humor laden, laden.

And she has such lily fingers, fingers, fingers,
Lovingly my hand there lingers, lingers,

Is she true, or is she heartless,

Maiden sweet that seems so artless?

Brown eyes has that little maiden, maiden, maiden,
All with sparkling humor laden, laden.

 

Dear Mother, I’ve Come Home to Die.

Copied by permission of Firrx, Son & Co., Music Publishers, 563 Broad-
way, New York; owners of the copyright.

Dear mother, I remember well
The parting kiss you gave to me,
When merry rung the village-bell,
My heart was full of joy and glee.
I did not dream that one short year
Would crush the hopes that soared so high;
Oh, mother dear, draw near to me,
Dear mother, | ’ve come home to die.

Cxuorvs—Call sister, brother, to my side,
_ And take your soldier’s last good-by;
Oh, mother, dear, draw near to me,
Dear mother, I’ve come home to die.

 

THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

 

 

Hark, mother, ’tis the village-bell,
I can no longer with thee stay;
My country calls—“ to arms! to arms!”
The foe advance in fierce array.
The vision’s past—I feel that now
For country I can only sigh;
Oh, mother dear, draw near to me,
Dear mother, I’ve come home to die. (CHORUS.)

Dear mother, sister, brother, all,
One parting kiss—to all good-by;
Weep not, but clasp your hand in mine,
And let me like a soldier die.
I’ve met the foe upon the field,
Where kindred fiercely did defy;
I fought for right—God bless the flag!
Dear mother, I’ve come home to die. (CHORUS.)

 

LANIGAN’S BALL.

Copied by permission of Wm. A. Ponp & Co., =f Broadway, New York,
owners of the copyright

fn the town of Athol lived one Jimmy Lanigan,
He bather’d away till he hadn't a pound;
His father died and made him a man again,
Left him a farm of ten acres of ground;
He gave a large party to all his relations,
That stood beside him when he went to the wall;
So if you but listen, I’ll make your eyes glisten,
‘With the rows and the ruptions at Lanigan’s ball.

Crorvs—Whack, fal lal, fal Jal, tal ladedy,
Whack, fal Jal, fal lal, tal ladedy,
Whack, fal lal, fal lal, tal ladedy,
Whack, hurroo, for Lanigan’s ball.

’Twas meself had free invitations
For all the boys and girls I might ask;
In less than five minutes I’d fri’nds and relations,
Singing as merry as flies round a cask;
Kitty O’Harra, a nate little milliner,
Tipt me the wink, and ask’d me to call,
Whin I arrived with Timothy Galligan,
Just in time for Lanigan’s ball. (CHoRUs.)

Whin we got there they were dancing the polka,
All round the room in a quare whirligig;
But Kitty and I put a stop to this nonsinse,
We tipt them a taste of a nate Irish jig;
Oh, Mavrone, wasn’t she proud of me,
We bather’d the flure till the ceiling did fall,
For I spent three weeks at Brooks’s academy,
L’arning a step for Lanigan’s ball. (CHORUS.)

The boys were all merry, the girls were frisky,
Drinking together in couples and groups,
Whin an accident happened to Paddy O’Rafferty,
He stuck his right fut through Miss Flanigan’s hoops;
The craythur she fainted, and roared ‘ Millia murther!”
Called for her fri’nds, and gathered thim all;
Tim Dermody swore that he’d go no further,
But have satisfaction at Lanigan’s ball. (CHoRvs.)

Och, arrah, boys, but thin was the ruptions,
Meself got a wollop from Phelim McCoo,
Soon I replied to his nate introduction,
And we kicked up the divil’s own phililaloo;
Casey the piper, he was nearly strangled,
They squeezed up his bags, chaunters and all;
The girls in their ribbons all got entangled,
And that put a stop to Lanigan’s ball. (CHoRUvs.)

In the midst of the row Miss Kavanah fainted,
Her face all the while was as red as the rose;
The ladies declared her cheeks they were painted,
But she’d taken a drop too much, I suppose;

Paddy Macaty, so hearty and able,
When he saw his dear colleen stretched out in the hall,
He pulled the best leg out from under the table, .
And broke all the chaney at Lanigan’s ball. (CHo.)

 

eo

 

 

 

 

eat

Fe
a

 

 

  
    
SR Aas ie Be

 

 

 

   
  
 
  

 

 

THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

 

Rn

 

 

 

Don’t You Dare to Kiss Me, Joe!

opied by permission of E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, New York, owner
i . of the apa: Music and words, 10 cents,
I once did love a charming girl,
The sweetest of the sweet,
She always dressed in dashing style,
And looked so very neat,
On ev’ry Sunday evening
I would call my love to see,
And if I tried to steal a kiss
She’d would always say to me:

Cxorus—Don’t you dare to kiss me, Joe!
You naughty man, now let me go;
‘You have no right to plague me so,
Now stop, or I’ll tell my ma!

I sport a nobby four-in-hand
And every Saturday

I'd take my darling to the park
To hear the music play;

To balls and operas we would go,
And sometimes linger late—

Then a parting kiss ]’d try to steal
When I left her at the gate.

Spoxrn—But ‘twas no use—she’d always box my ears, and
say: (CHORUS.)

I called one Sunday eve, resolved
To pop the question there,

And down upon my bended knees
Eternal love to swear;

But, glancing through the open blind;
I saw a sight, by Jove!

A fellow with a blonde mustache
Had his arm around my love.

SPoKEN— Yes, and the scoundrel was kissing her, too. I rushed
in to demand an explanation. She met me at the door, and
said “‘She was very sorry, but I would have to excuse her, as
her cousin George had just arrived from India, and she would
be happy to have me call in a friendly way, when my time was
not otherwise occupied.” I left her in disgust, and went home,
vowing never to associate hereafter with any young lady who
would say: (CHORUS.)

OH, MERRY HOURS!

Pe ee of Ottver Ditson & Co., 451 Washington street,
mn, owners of the copyright. Music and words, 30 cents.
Oh, merry hours, delay your flight,
While all is sweet, and rosy bright;
Joy is flowing round us ev’rywhere,
Mirth and song are in the air!
With eager feet, how daintily we glide,
We speed along o’er Pleasure’s golden tide,
While bright and sparkling eyes are near,
Life, oh how precious and dear!
Ding ding! ding ding! ding ding!
The silver bells of joy we sound,
And sip the ruby wine,
We revel now in Pleasure’s round,
And dewy roses twine,
Oh, merry hours, so light and fair,—
So full of youth and May,
With dance and song, as free as air,
We'll live the sweet to-day!

Oh, merry hours, we pledge you here,
And may you rule the blissful year;
Fair as jewels gleaming in the sky,
May your moments wander by!
Old Care we'll lull so sweetly to his rest,
And pure Delight shall ever be our guest.
Tho’ all is rosy sweet to-day,
Joy soon may glade away!
Ding ding! ding ding! ding ding!
The silver bells of joy we sound,
And sip the ruby wine,
We revel now in Pleasure’s round,
And dewy roses twine,
Oh, merry hours, what visions throng,
So full of youth and May,
With dance and song, with dance and song,
We'll live the sweet to-day!

 

 

I Wish I Was in Dixie’s Land.
Copied by permission of Firtx, Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York,
owners of the copyright.
I wish I was in de land ob cotton,
Old times dar am not forgotten;
Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land.
In Dixie land whar I was born in,
Early on one frosty mornin’,
Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land.

Cuorus—Den I wish I was in Dixie, hooray! hooray!
In Dixie land Pll took my stand,
To lib an’ die in Dixie, away! away!
Away down south in Dixie, away! away!
Away down south in Dixie.

Old missus marry ‘‘ Will de weaber,”
William was a gay deceaber;
Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land.
But when he put his arm around ’er,
He smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder,
Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land. (CHo.)

His face was sharp as a butcher’s cleaber,
But dat did not seem to greab ’er;
Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land.
Old missus acted de foolish part,
And died for a man dat broke her heart,
Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land. (CHo.)

Now here’s a health to the next old missus,
An’ all de gals dat want to kiss us;
Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land.
But if you want to drive ’way sorrow,
Come an’ hear dis song to-morrow.
Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land. (CHo.)

Dar’s buckwheat cakes an’ Ingen batter,
Makes you fat or a little fatter;

Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land.
Den hoe it down an’ scratch your grabble,
To Dixie land I’m bound to trabble.

Look away! look away! look away! Dixie land.

I’ve Only Been Down to the Club.

Copied by permission of E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, New York, owner
of the copyright. Music and words, 10 cents.

Last night I was out rather late,
*T was only an innocent spree,
My wife for my coming did wait,
When sleeping I thought she would be.
I found her in temper and tears,
“Oh!” she cried, ‘‘it’s a sin and a shame,”
And she scratch’d both my eyes and my ears,
But I told her I soon would explain.

Cuorus—The “ Club ” had a meeting to-night, love,
Of bus’ness we had a great sight, love,
Don’t think for a moment I’m tight, love,
I’ve only been down to the Club.

My boots I left down in the hall,
And softly I crept up the stairs;
I kept rather close to the. wall,
And thought to ascend unawares.
But, just as I got to the door,
I seemed to get lost in the dark,
I stumbled and fell on the floor,
And just then I could only remark: (CHoRUS.)

She sobbed and she wept and she screamed,
And said she’d go back to her ma,
While I on the mantle-piece leaned,
And tried to enjoy my cigar. -
I promised to buy her a dress
If she’d let me alone for a while;
Then I gave her a sweet little kiss,
And I saw her beginning to smile.

Spoxen—So I thought it a favorable opportunity to assure her
once more, as a positive fact, that: (CHoRUs.)

 

   

 

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NE RI

a ge a Skee ai a GES, a ey Se ar oe

 

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——$

 

Yanan

The Merriest Girl That’s Out.

Published by E. H. Harpine, 229 Bowery, N. Y. Music and words, 10 cents.

With laughter and good-humor,
Why I pass my time away;

So, while I’m here, I’ll do my best
To please you, with my lay.

Then come along and join my song,
And raise a merry shout,

To welcome me, for I’m you see,
The merriest girl that’s out.

CxHorus—Now, then, young men, don’t be melancholy!
Just see, like me, if you can’t be jolly!
If anything goes wrong with me,
I never sulk or pout;
In fact I am, and always was,
The merriest girl that’s out.

 

The gentlemen complain, and say:

“Tm such a dreadful flirt!”

But if they will make love to me,
Their hearts I’m sure to hurt.

I really can’t help laughing, when
I hear them sigh about;

For sentiment it don’t suit me,

I’m the merriest girl that’s out. (CHORUS.)

The notes and presents I receive
Would fill a basket quite,

While bouquets rare, I do declare,
Are sent me ev’ry night.

The notes all speak of broken hearts,
Some mean it, I’ve no doubt;

I’m sorry, yet I still remain
The merriest girl that’s out.

To balls and parties I oft go,

. For dancing I admire;

And waltzing is a thing, I own,
Of which I never tire.

And should my partner squeeze my hand,
I know what I’m about,

It pleases him and don’t hurt me,
I’m the merriest girl that’s out.

(CHORUB.)

(CHORUS. )

 

Katy Did, Katy Didn’t.
Copied by permission of Horace Warrrs, Music Publisher, 481 Broadway,
New York, owner of the copyright.
Katy had an ancient lover,
Oh, his head was white as snow;
He was worth a mint of money,
Katy didn’t love him though.

Cuorus—Katy did, Katy didn’t,
Katy did, Katy didn’t,
* Katy did, Katy didn’t,

Katy didn’t, she didn’t, I know.

Katy didn’t, but Katy’s father,
Katy’s father did and would

Love the old man and his money,
And he vowed that Katy should.

Katy wrung her hands and cried, sir,
And before her father knelt;
I couldn’t begin to tell you,
If I tried, how bad she felt. (CHORUs.)

Katy knew a younger man, sir,

With the blackest eyes and hair,
Whether he’d got any money,

Katy didn’t know or care. (CHORUS.)

This young man was fond of Katy,
As the little sly rogue knew,
And she forthwith went and asked. him
What he thought she’d betterdo. (CHorus.)

This young man was not a fool, sir
And he loved the little elf,

So what do you think he did, sir?
Why he married her himself.

Cuorus—Katy did, Katy didn’t,

Esty did, Eaty didn’t,

ty did, Katy didn’t,
Katy did, Katy did, I know.

(CHORUS.)

a

THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

III INRA RAR nnn

|

|

 

 
 
 

 

 

FINIGAN’S WAKE

Copied by permission of Wm. A. Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York,
owners of the copyright.

Tim Finigan lived in Walker street,
A gentleman Irishman—mighty odd—
He’d a beautiful brogue, so rich and sweet,
And to rise in the world he carried the hod;
But you see he’d a sort of a tippling way;
With a love for the liquor poor Tim was born,
And to help him through his work each day,
He’d a drop of the creatur’ every morn.

Cxorus—Whack, hurrah, dance to your partners,
Welt the flure, ye’re trotters shake,
Isn’t it the truth I’ve tould ye,
Lots of fun at Finigan’s wake.

One morning Tim was rather full,
His head felt heavy, which made him shake,
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull;
So they carried him home his corpse to wake;
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet,
And laid him out upon the bed,
With fourteen candles round his feet,
And a barrel of paratees around his head. (CHORUS, )
His friends assembled at his wake,
Missus Finigan called out for the lunch;
First they laid in tay and cake,
The pipes and tobacky and whisky-punch.
Miss Biddy O’Brien began to cry:
“Such a purty corpse did ever you see?”
Arrah! Tim avourneen, an’ why did ye die?
‘‘Och, none of your gab,” sez Judy Magee. ( CHORUS. )

Then Peggy O’Connor took up the job,
“‘Arrah, Biddy,” says she, “‘ye’re wrong I’m shure;”
But Judy then gave her a belt on the gob,
And left her sprawling on the flure.
Each side in war did soon engage; ?
*Twas woman to woman and man to man;
Shillelah law was all the rage,

And a rousing ruction soon began. (CHoRUs.)

 

“UNSOPHISTICATED LOVE.”

WRITTEN BY FRANK DUMONT. SUNG BY TOM WARFIELD.

The gal that I love is both tall and serene,

Her teeth are bran new and her cheeks are so green,
Her voice is as sweet as the tones of a mule,

Her uncle’s a sailor—her brother’s a fool.

She can chew all day long on a big chunk of gum
Like a freckled-face boy with a wart on his thumb;
Her appetite’s good; she’ll devour with great ease
A couple of tons of old Limburger cheese,

C71oxus—She had a great love for the new silver dollars;
She looks like a fairy in clean paper collars;
When she opens her head the inside can be seen—
No taffy at all; she’s a lovely sardine!

1 never can tell all her beauties at once;

She calls me a sugar-coated galvanized dunce.
When she kisses me with her big mouth open wide
There’s room enough in it for an elephant to hide,
If she ever got mad she’d pulverize your jaw
With one little swipe of her delicate claw;

What shall I say of her gaiters to wear?

It takes forty big cow skins to make her a pair! (CHo.)
She owns a big farm where the bull-frogs do grow;
She raises a crop of the best kind of snow;

I gave her my picture dressed in my best togss

She put it in the sty for to frighten the hogs!

She has a glass eye and its color is red;

She wears a bag full of feathers attached to her head;
She can talk “ broken China” in seventeen tongues,
And blow down a house with her cast-iron lungs. (CHO.)

$e

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
  

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Really Don’t Think I Shall Marry.

Published by E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents.

Come listen to me and I’m sure you'll agree,
“Tis a shame that I longer should tarry;

Tho’ beaux I can find, yet not one to my mind,
So I really don’t think I shall marry.

There’s Edward, so gay that he never can pay
Much attention to one girl in twenty,

And then his long hair, suclva fright, I declare
If half off, he would then have quite plenty.

Cxrorvus—So then listen to me and I’m sure you'll agree,
Tis a shame that I longer should tarry;
Tho’ beaus I can find, yet not one to my mind,
So I really don’t think I shall marry.

Now George he is fair, and such men I can’t bear,
And that turn in his eye is so horrid;

And I’m sure he must drink, or what else can I think
Makes his face so uncommonly florid?

And James, tho’ he’s thin, and ! think it no sin
To confess he’s good temper’d and funny:

And I should not object such a man to select

Were he blessed with the needful, the money. (CHO.)

Then Charles wears a wig, but I don’t care a fig
For his locks, his deep sighs and his letters;
This I wish him to know, that for me he’s too low,
I intend to look out for his betters.
And Edwin, though short, I own I have caught,
And have promised to wed him at leisure;
But I don’t care for that, he is so very fat,
I can never look at him with pleasure. (CHORUS.)

There’s Arthur, now mind, who thinks he’s refined,
And says he speaks French like a native;

But he turns in his toes and wears very queer clothes,
Tells stories, and so imitative.

Indeed the whole set put me quite in a pet,
T’ve no doubt you’ll all own I have reason;

T'll leave such as these to do just as they please,
And wait till some good are in season.

Cuorus—Now you’ve listen’d to me and of course you agree
Tis a shame that I longer should tarry,
But if here I can find a beau to my mind,
Then perhaps after all I shall marry.

 

POOR JUNEY.

Copied by permission of RussELL oo se, Boston, owners of the copy-

Pearl River’s side is far away, in Mississippi State,

Where our old cabin stands alone, with Juney at the gate;

I told her I was going away, but would not stay out Jate,
And so she thought I’d soon be home, and waited at the gate.

CHORUS.
The cabin stands upon the stream in Mississippi State,
And I must quickly hurry hdme and take her from the gate,

Old massa died, and I was sold away to Georgia’s State,

They did not buy my sister June when they bought me her mate,

I could not tell her we must part, alas! our cruel fate,

And so, with weeping eyes, she stands to meet me at the gate.
(CHORUS. )

I can’t forget her gloomy look, when I bid her good-night, -
Nor how my body quaked and shook as slow I left her sight;
But soon I'll gold and silver get, pray Heaven I’m not too late,
To buy my darling Juney free and take her from the gate.

Oh, Juney was a simple child, with pretty shining curls,

And white folks loved her best of all, the young Mulatto girl,

’Twas wrong for me to leave her "lone, in Mississippi State,

But money it shall break the chain that binds her to the gate.
(CHORUS. )

If you go away down South, to Mississippi State,
Don’t fail to seek our cabin there, with Juney at the gate;
Tell her to wait a little while, tell her in hope to wait,
For I am he shall make her frée, and take her from the gate.
, (CHORUS. )

(CHo.) ©

 

 

 

 

THE SINGER’S LIBRARY. it

 

 

THE GOAT.

Published by E. H. Harpine, 229 Bowery, N.Y. Music and words, 10 cents.

Oh! now my dear friends, I’m going to relate,
If you pay attention, you’ve not long to wait;
My father lived in a place called Graymote,
He'd a sow, and a cow, and a fine billy goat.

This goat, sure, he had a queer, curious way,

He d go out each morning and stop out all day;

When he’d come home at night, like a bull he would roar,
Till my father got up for to open the door.

One day we sat down, and was going to ate,

The goat leap’d on the table and sthole all the mate;

And without saying a word, shure the dirty ould gommagh,
He druv his two horns in my poor father’s stomach.

Says me mother to me, ‘‘Jamsey,” ‘‘ Yis ma’m,” says I,
“Take the goat to the market, and sell him, now try;”

The words she scarce spoke, when the goat gave a jump,

And struck me mother, oh gorra! such a murthering thu p.

Then all in the house bate a hasty retrate,

And the goat bucked away at the divil’s own rate;

He spied my father’s coat hanging up, gave a bawl,

Made a charge on the ‘‘frize,” and druv his head in the wall.

Some time afther they went to look for the goat,
They searched all around, ’till they came to the coat;
But all of the goat that was left the next day,

Was only the sthump of his tail, and it bucking away.

 

BASE-BALL.

Copied rmission of Root & Capy, Music Publish Chi 5
re of the copyright. Music and words, 30 cents. nen
We've a game in this land, and a noble game too,
‘That don’t suit the professional card-dealing crew,
For it’s one that is honest and open and true,
Tis our glorious national base-ball.

Cxuorus—Then hurrah for the manliest game and the best,
And hurrah for the pride of our boys all,
For there’s nothing that has such a health-giving zest,
As our glorious national base-ball.

They may talk of their “Cricket” and ‘‘ Curling Rink ” play,

Or of others that doubtless are good in their way,

But the Britons and Scotchmen must all yield the day,
When it comes to our national base-ball. (CHoRvs.)

So let three rousing cheers be the end of our song,

May the reign of the bat and the “leather ” be long,

For they brown the pale cheeks and make weak rauscles strong,
Tn our glorious national base-ball. (CHoRus. )

 

BEAUTIFUL DREAMER.*

Copied by permission of Wm. A. Ponp & Co., 547 Broadway, New York,
owners of the copyright. Music and words, 40 cents.
Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,

Starlight and dew-drops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Uulled by the moonlight have all passed away!
Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life’s busy throng,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea

Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelie;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,

Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,

E’en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,

Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!

* The last ever written by SterHmn CO. F few 4a; vi-
sate song by ‘OSTER, a few days pre’

——

 

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THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

 

 

 

~~

My Love is Still the Same.

Copied by permission of E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, New York, owner
of the copyright. Music and words, 40 cents.

Tho’ we’ve parted from each other, yet my love is still the same,
And mem’ries of the past still linger vet,

Fondest dreams of love will haunt me in the future evermore,
[ can never all our tender vows forget.

They have torn me from your arms amidst sighs and bitter tears,
But they cannot tear your image from my heart,

Your love shall be my solace thro’ the coming weary years,
With the mem’ry of thy love I cannot part.

CHORUS.
My love is still the same,
And grows stronger, for thou’rt absent from my side,
The dreams of love that bless me I will cling to fondly still,
And will love thee, dear, whatever may betide.

I cannot love another, and I would not be a bride,
I may ask you to forgive but not forget;

The tender vows we pledg’d, love, by the rippling of the tide,
In love’s attentive ear are ling’ring yet.

My heart is like the sea, as pure, as wide, as deep,

Each tho’t of thee a tributary stream,
That swells its wide expanse to a limit unconfin’d,
As bright, as glad, as radiant as thy dream. (CHORUS.)

 

“FREE AND EASY.”

Published by E. H. Harprna, 229 Bowery, N. Y. Music and words, 10 cents,

I’m the lad that’s free and easy
Wheresoe’er I chance to be,
And I'll do my best to please ye,

If you will but list to me.

Cxorus—So let the world jog along as it will,
Pll be free and easy still,
Free and easy, free and easy,
Tl be free and easy still.

Some there are who meet their troubles,
Others drown their cares in drink,
Half our trials are but bubbles,

Fretting forges many a link. (CHoRUS.)

I envy neither great nor wealthy,
Poverty I ne’er despise,
Let me be contented, healthy,
And the boon I'll dearly prize. (CHoRvs.)

The great have cares I little know of,
All that glitters is not gold,
Merit’s seldom made a show of,

And true worth is rarely bold. (CHoRUs.)

Why then waste our daysin fretting?

© The longest lane must have an end,

The wealth that costs such toil in getting,
Takes but little time to spend. (CHoRus.)

I care for all, yet care for no man,
Those who mean well need not fear,
I like a man, and love a woman,
What else makes this life so dear.

ee

 

Merry Little Birds are We.

Copied by permission of Horace Warrrs, Music Publisher, 481 Broadway,
New York, owner of the copyright.
The summer’s coming on,
And we warble in the tree;
The wintry blasts have gone,
Oh, what merry birds are we;
So now we chirp and sing,
For the sunlight makes us glad,
We've waited for the spring,
Till our hearts were sick and sad.

Cxrorvus—Merry little birds are we,
Twit, twit, twee, twit, twit, twee,
Merry little birds are we,
For the summer days are coming.

 

 

The-daisy lifts its head
To the bright and cheering sky,
And snowy flakes have fled,
And the chilling winds gone by;
The roses soon will bloom,
And the wild flowers deck the glen;
The butterflies will roam;
Oh, we'll all be happy then.

We greet the morning beams
‘With a welcome to the May,
We carol to the streams
‘When we wake at break of day;
The birds are on the bough,
And the verdure on the plain,
We'll all be happy now,
For the spring has come again.

(CHoRUS.)

(CHORUS. )

 

Boy With the Auburn Hair.

Copied by permission of Lee & Waker, 722 Chestnut street, Philadel-
phia, owners of the copyright.

It was on a summer’s morning all in the month of May,
And in those flowery garduing where Bessie she did stray,
I overheard a damsuiel in sorrow to complain,

All for the sake of her lovier, he plowed the roaring main.

Cuorus—With his oh, oh, oh oh oh oh oh, ho, he was her dar-
ling boy, q
He was the boy with the auburn hair and his name
was McAvoy.

I stept up to this damsuiel and did her much surprise,

Because she did not know me, I being in singular disguise.

Says I, “‘My charming creature, my gay young heart’s delight,

How far have you to travuiel this dark and stormy night?”
(CHORUS. )

“The way, kind sir, to Manniyunk, if you will please to show,
And pity a poor distracted maid, for there I have to go,
In search of the faithless, heartless young man, and Snicklefritz
is his name,
All on the banks of the Schullikill I’m told he does remain.
(CHORUS. )

“Tf Johnny Kizer he was here he’d keep me from all harm,

But he’s on the field of battuiel with his gallant uniform;

He’s on the field of battuiel, his foes he will cut down,

Like a roaring boy from Darbia he fought in Germantown.”
(CHORUS. )

 

EVANGELINE.

‘Copied by permission of S. Brarnarp & Co., 203 Superior st., Cleveland,

owners of the copyright.

Sweet Evangeline, my lost Evangeline,
We have lived and loved ’each other, fond and true,
Ever true to thee, though far away I’ve been,
My heart has ever dwelt with you;
But oh, those happy days will ne’er return,
Those happy days that we have seen,
For I am left to weep alone,
My sweet Evangeline,

Crorus—Oh, how sad we’ve been, lost Evangeline,
Since we laid thee where the sweetest flowers wave,
And the angels bright, robed in spotless white,
Are watching o’er thy green and mossy grave.
Evangeline, Evangeline, Evangeline, Evangeline,
She’s gone to the silent grave.

Iam lonely now, my dear Evangeline,
The days are long, the nights are sad and drear;
And how changed, alas! each well-remembered scene,
Since you and I were sitting here; ;
Alas! you nevermore will smile on me,
And life is now a sad, sad dream;
I lived to love none else but thee,
My sweet Evangeline. (CHORUS.)

TT OE SNe S"™™OwOOOOOCO ES m™w"

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THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

VEGETABLE JOE.

Copied by permission of Joun Cuurca & Co., Music Publishers, Cincin-

nati, O., owners of the copyright.

I'm Vegetable Joe, and as my rounds I go,

For many a mile the girls will smile at Vegetable Joe;

With mind devoid of care, and spirits light as air,

I whistle and sing, and cabbages bring from my little gar-
den oh!

I started young in trade, and a nice connection made,

Because I always sells things on the fair;

And.all I havg to do is to call a thing or two,

‘While Ned my little pony draws my wares,

While Ned my little pony draws my wares.

CHORUS.

I’m Vegetable Joe, and as my rounds I go,
For many a mile the girls will smile at Vegetable Joe.

I’m Vegetable Joe! and many people know

The lusty, bawl and morning call of Vegetable Joe;

For be it dry or wet, I never can forget

That many’s the maid awaiting to trade with Vegetable Joe;
For dinners must be had, be the weather good or bad,

And when it rains, fresh customers I see,

For then without a doubt, the ladies can’t get out,

So they make their little purchases of me, of me,

So they make their little purchases of me. (CHORUS.)

I’m Vegetable Joe, no money do I owe,

For not a crust is had on trust by Vegetable Joe;

But yet to barely live, I must credit give,

Or none would deal or grease the wheel with Vegetable Joe.
Your tradesmen in their shops, who live on mutton chops,
Are often more unhappy now I think, .
Than I with bread and cheese, and a drive out at my ease,
And I’ve got some money in the savings bank, savings bank,
And I’ve got some money in the savings bank. (CHORUS.)

I’m Vegetable Joe, and pleasantly I row

The stream of life, but wants a wife, does Vegetable Joe,
His humble lot to share, and be she dark or fair,

She’ll always be sure of affection pure from Vegetable Joe;
In summer, after tea, how happy I should be

To drive my little wifey round about

The green lanes in the cart, and with feelings proud at heart,
That I could own what I was driving out,

That I could own what I was driving‘out. (CHoRUS.)

I’m Vegetable Joe, and now would have you know,

All are not fools from ragged schools, says Vegetable Joe;
For that’s were I began to learn that every man

His mind must give to work, and live like Vegetable Joe,
I’ve told you all my mind, in hopes that I should find
Some folks to own the roughest may be true,

And that humble corduroy covers heart that beat with joy,
And respectfully I bid you now adieu,

And respectfully I bid you now adieu. _ (CHoRus.)

Her Pretty, Smiling Face.

NED STRAIGHT’S CELEBRATED SONG,

Copied by permission of Joun Caurcu & Co., Music Publishers, Cincin-

nati, O., owners of the copyright.

One evening when the sun was low, all nature seemed serene,

I was walking down the street, I met a Fairy Queen;

er curling locks of coal-black hair all o’er her shoulders ran,

Her witching eyes did seem to say, ‘‘ Just catch me if you can.”

| CHORUS.
Oh, yes, indeed, she was a perfect beauty,
I knew that she would just exactly suit me;
Her form was like a fairy and her motion full of grace,
She won my heart’s affection with her pretty, smiling face.

I followed her until bewildered with her dashing ways,
And when she cast a smile at me my heart was all ablaze;

 

Never Venture, Never Win!

Published by E. H. Harprnea, 229 Bowery, New York. Music and words,

10 cents.

There’s a maxim to remember,
If in life you would succeed;
It is very plain and simple,
It will serve you as a creed.
If your courage should desert you,
And you teel your hopes grow dim,
Bear in mind that little motto,
*« Never venture, never win!”

CHORUS.
On, on, on, and never be afraid, boys!
On, on, on, with courage as your aid, boys!
Try for the best, keep a cheerful heart within;
Bear in mind that little motto, ‘‘ Never venture, never win!”

When the soldier goes to battle,
When the sailor feels the storm,
When the merchant sees a panic,
And the statesman cries reform;
They may meet with great reverses,
But they never once give in;
For, these words adorn their banner,
“ Never venture, never win!” (CHORUS.)

When our fathers fought for freedom,
And that boon was long denied,
They beheld their foes retreating,
And with death were satisfied;
They were true and never weakened
In the battle’s wildest din,
For they knew that little motto,
“ Never venture, never win!” (CHORUS.)

When the lover sues for kisses
And the sweetheart is unkind,
Don’t depend upon her answer
If she seems the least inclined;
She may say, “‘ that you are naughty,
And that kissing is a sin!”
But you know she never means it,
If you venture, you will win! (CHoRvs.)

Ada, With the Golden Hair.

POPULAR COMIC SONG.

Copied by permission of S. Bramyarp & Sons, Music Publishers, Cleve-

land, O., owners of the copyright.

Oh, now listen and I'll tell you,

[ am going tell you, yes, I will tell you,

About a little girl I met

One day in Franklin square;

She was dressed to death, and looked so sweet,
My heart she did ensnare;

{ asked her name, she smiled and said,

Ada, with the golden hair.”

Ada, do you love me?

Tell me if you love me!” she said, “I love you!”
It made me feel so queer,

We walked in Franklin square;

Her eyes were blue, her feet so small,

I thought I should die there ;

She took my arm, oh yes, she did!

Ada, with the golden hair.

I’m going to marry Ada,

Charming little Ada, pretty little Ada;
Then I shall settle down,

And live in Franklin square;

And wedding there'll be, for Ada and me,

I hope to see you there;

Her dresses I have bought, the furniture too,
And a chignon for her to wear.

I called one day to see Ada,

i guickly ran up to her side, and then to her I said,

My sweet little Ada, dear little Ada,
~ Viv seart is vining for you, dear. until ’m almost dead,” (CHO.)

Her mamma says, “‘ She is dyeing.”

< thought I should drop right there,

That dear delightful creature gave me such: 4 Jariling giance, 4 rushed up-stairs, Ada screamed out,

She snugly laid her hand in mine, and said, ‘We met by chance; ~ You vome in if you care!”

But if you love me truly, and will cherish me through life, “Are you dying, my “ear?” “‘ You silly.” sbe said,
I'll promise to be true to you, and be a faithful wife.” ‘Cuorvs.) “Ym only dyeing my hair.”

4 pale teaataannte ce tit ooh 1p

 

 

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THE SINGER’S LIBRARY.

 

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The Dashing Gay Brunette.

Copied by permission of Wm. A. Porn & Co., cg suey apie New York,
owners of the copyright

Good-evening, friends, I hope you’re well,
A story to you I will tell,
How head and ears in love I fell
With a dashing, gay brunette.
The first time that I met her
I was riding in a car,
A gentleman was with her,
I think it was her pa;
I arose and said, ‘‘ Will you accept my seat?”
She bowed and thanked me with a smile so sweet,
This dashing, gay brunette.

We smiled and flirted as on we rode,
I followed her to her abode,
Into her hand I slipped a note,
Asking if I might on her call;
Next day I got an answer,
It filled me with delight,
Stating that I might call on her
The coming Sunday night.
I read and read her letter o’er again,
I thought myself the luckiest of men,
My dashing, gay brunette.

At the appointed hour I rung the bell,
’Twas answered by my little Nell,
Her blushing face at once did tell
Watching she had been for me.
No longer could I hide it, so
I told her of my love,
And vowed I would be true to her
As the stars above.
She said that she could love none else but me,
80 next week I am going to married be
To my dashing, gay brunette.

 

VICTORINE.

Copied by permission of Lrz & WALKER, Music Publishers, Philadelphia,
owners of the copyright.

While gathering tiny shells amid the wavelets
At Long Branch, one fair summer afternoon,

I met a little laughing, dark-eyed gipsy,
She was warbling a sweet operatic tune;

Her winning ways would drive a saint to madness,
Such a saucy little witch was uever seen;

Three summers she has been the belle of Long Branch,
And her pretty name is Gipsy Victorine.

CHorus—With roguish eyes and smile so sweet,
In fashion always dressed complete,
We gayly walked together by the sea-shore,
Or wandered by the moonlight’s silver sheen;
She can sing and dance as light as any fairy,
Can this laughing little beauty, Victor ine.

Her laugh is like a flood of rippling music,
As it floats upon the dreamy summer air;
Her starry eyes with mischief ever dancing,
They’re enough to drive a fellow to despair;
Her raven ringlets set the beaux a-raving,
She perambulates as proud as any queen;
Yet she greets me ever with a smile of sweetness,
Does my darling little Gipsy Victorine. (CHORUS.)

For the happy time that’s coming I am waiting
So anxiously, for her I’ve asked to wed;

She whispered “ Yes,” with such seraphic sweetness,
On my bosom laid her darling curly head.

When the birdies sing their songs in happy springtime,
In a cosy cottage near a woodland green,

Far happier than a “‘ Morning Star” or ‘‘ Sunflower,”

| Tl luxuriate with Gipsy Victorine. (CHORUS.)

 

CASTLES IN THE AIR.

Copied by permission of 8. T. Gorpon, roa Publisher, New York,
owner of the copyright.
The bonnie, bonnie bairn, who sits okay in the ase,
Glowering in the fire wi’ his wee round face,
Laughing at the fuffin low, what sees he there?
Ha! the young dreamer’s bigging castles in the air;
His wee chubby face, and his tonzie curly pow,
Are laughing and nodding to the dancing lowe;
He’ll brown his rosy cheeks and singe his sunny hair,
Glowering at the imps wi’ their castles,jn the air.

He sees muckle castles towering to the moon,

He sees little sogers a pu’ing them a’ doun;

Worlds whombling up and down, bleezing wi’ a flare,

See how he loups as they glimmer in the air;

For a’ sae sage he looks, what can the laddie ken?

He’s thinking upon naething, like mony mighty men;

A wee thing makes us think, a sma’ thing makes us stare;
There air mair folk than him bigging castles in the air.

Sic a night in winter may weel mak’ him cauld;

His chin upon his buffy hand will soon make him auld;
His brow is brent sae braid, oh, pray that daddy Care
Would let the wean alane wi’ his castles in the air;

He'll glower at the fire, and he’ll keek at the light,

But many sparkling stars are swallowed up by night,
Aulder een than his are glamoured by a glare,

Hearts are broken, heads are turned wi’ castles in the air.

 

 

THE FEMALE SMUGGLER.

Copied by permission of Wm. Haut & Co., Music Pebyahey, 543. Broad-
way, New York, owners of ‘the copyright.
In sailor’s clothing young Jane did go
Dressed like a sailieur from top to toe,
With a brace of pistuls all by her side,
Like a female smuguler, like a female smuguler,
That feared not wind or tide.

Cuorus—Like a female smuguler,
Like a female smuguler
That feared not wind or tide.

“ What do you want?” says the commodore,

“T come to fight for my father’s store;”
She drew a pistuel, shot him through,

Like a female smuguler, like a female smuguler,
Then to her parient flew. (CHORUS.)

Oh, mothier, mothier, make my bed,

In a loving foot-grave have me buried;
Let four young maidens my body bear,

Like a female smuguler, like a female smuguler,
That nothing could scare. (CHORUS.)

 

KIND AND TRUE.

SUNG BY LOTTA.

Cc nein of J. L. Perers, 599 Broadwa;
et ro the aoe aan. Music and Sabai
z your dear love frown on you,
And for love give back but scorn,
Would you turn her kind and true, @
Rise you early on some morn
In the merry month of May,
Ere from off the flow’ring thorn
Dewdrops bright’ have dried away,
Dewdrops bright have dried away.
Ere the blush has left the sky,
Then no other creature nigh,
You must pluck for her a spray
Without shaking out the dew
As your'e tearing it away,
For if this you neatly do,
She’ll most surely from that morn
Give you love instead of scorn ah!
Give you love instead of scorn,
And be ever kind and true, ;
Give you love instead of scorn \
And prove ever kind and true.

, New York, owner
cents.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 

 

Beadle’s Half-Dime Singer's Library.

 

eo
Contents of No. 1.

angel Gabriel,
Aud lang syne,
A good th e coming,

Barbara Allan,

silly Larkin.

Jome, ga ng awa’ wi’ me,
‘ ne ad cheer,

“ Cliequo’
Co-ea-che- junk,

“Crooked whisky!”

Cail me when breakfast is

roady,
French: and English,
Gay and happy,
floop-la,
Heather Jock,
I xnew that I'was dreaming,
I muse on thee,
Johnny, ‘ou’ve been a bad boy,
Juliana Jones,
Jim, the carter ay
i bis nai yous flowing bowl,
andlor your flo’ Ww
Land na ea birth.
Lord Li
Mise larubde 's boarding house,
oaby Bay red rose,
ato Bes utes
,
pat toon your vest,
Put me in my little bed,
Rose of Killarn ee
Roll out! heave dat cotton,
xhine vine Sharley,
See that my io kept green,
Sweet by an
Stn of fe ; me fer,
Sing, birdie, sing,
‘en minutes too late,
r ne per in the moon 1s looking,

5 MOV

7" "Pwiket two stools aman goes to
she ground,”

Chey all do it,

the railroad éengineer’s song,

hie nightingale’s trill,
hey borrow, but never return,

fhe butcher poy,

the hazel dell,

The fee ne i

tom Bowl:

Shee midn: gut bugle,

She arabica raggit wean!
{winkling stars,
the Marseilles hymn, |
Che old English sq’
alia the eeiilow: cme sleeping,
ma (new version),

whos Emma Guieinal Death
¥ ie *t [have a beau?

a

Vho
Contents of No. 2.

1eushla Pk mochree,
motto for every man,

yabylon is fallen,

3eautiful poe
“Bitter bee:

Beside the the | sweet Shannon.
Captain Cuff,

Constantinople,
oe Seok of the musketeers

Danie f Pat

Dandy barber Joe,

_ Gentle Jennie Gray,

_ deorge Constantine McKeown,
Home eats

ha ale ht smile haunts me

I’m looking at you now,
I know when Te enough,
I'm lonely since my ‘mother

4
Pm a b’hoy,
john Chinaman,
Simmy’s wooing,

a a
re care t0n mother now?

 

wi
Norah, the pride of Kildare,
by one they crossed the

tu i Gow the blind,
Quit dat ticklin’ meet
sobinson Crus

, Lullaby,

. sion of iNldhoos
shall we ever eee
Single blessedness

the fields of anos fp
Hie march of the oe

the st style in which it’s done,
fhe five cent shave,

Che merry widow,

Phe Donegan light guard,

 

Che king’s highway,
Ree O's amd th the Me’,

“he sparkll ing folitalre,
gnele d be do 's lament,
_
fly,

vin ma Hie eek ‘without | Th

aa make mo
Fouget more Meee cuir Gait evecy:|*wists

 

FIFTY OR MORE SONGS

Contents of No 3.
A national song,
Bold Robin ial

yet 0” ray
Bi ly Grimes pttie rover,
Sackle, cackle, cackle,

Coaxing with a ee)

Camptown ra

Father will settle the bill,
Good-by, John,

God bless the little church, ete.
Hildebrandt Montrose,

He isn’t as rich as he used to be,
He was such a nice young man,
Human nature,

Hail to the chief,

I do feel so awfully loose,
tee any such place?

T'll be watching for you ee ete.
It’s naughty, but it’s nice

I love my native land,

I’m in it,

J Juanita,

bifiie mal maid of rot arcades,
Mary McGinnis,
Mary of the wild moor,
Massa’s in de cold ground,
Mine host! mine host! come, etc.
My brudder gu:
Mary ‘Avourne! n,
Nancy
Never despair.
Ben army and navy of blue,
Only a flower there,
Old folks:at home,
Peter Gray,
Pink dom noes,
Papa says I may,
white and) blue,
Sing! sing! sing!
Song of the locomotive,

ah rig of shillelah,
Shall we know fate other there?
The Gainsboro’ hat,

Terrance Muldoon,

The fireman’s boy,

The summer of love,

The runaway mare

The roast beef of old England,
The smid awkward squad!

The boulevard.

The low back’d car,

The Campbells are comin’,

The Yankee boy,

The fighting dog,

The brave old oak,

The Pee

‘When the flowers fall asleep,
Wake! Dinah, wake,

Why have my loved ones gone?
Whisper it softly,

Yankee ship, anda Yankee crew,

Contents of No. 4.

After ry might for a rest,

A starry night fora ramble,
Adventures of Robinson Crusoe,
Auld Robin Gray,

Broadway promenade,

Bashful youn, ie

ae oe ee ets,

Bob Bi

Down ae shad pao lane she goes
Darling old stick

“Fifth avenue George,”

Good-by, Charlie,
Good-by till I see. you again,
Hail, Columbia,
Home, swe eee home,
Hi
In her “ Tittle bed” we laid her,
Iam waiting, Essie dear,
“T cannot ae the old songs,”
Johnny Morgan.
Little green vail,
Looking back,
Lather ind shave,
OE ea
elly was a 1
ont you pr pretty aeiine: eyed witch,

ur boys.
Ola Rosin the Beau,
Over the left,
Pop goes the’ weasel,
Par excellence,

“Put the brake on when, etc.

Rory 5

ry O’Moore,
Rosa ;

Ridin’ in’a railroad keer,
Epa rkling moselle,
SI Sabine. with my girl,
Stars ng, gentle spring,
ehaneiot banner,
trum:
The eee. burial, “ai
The Brooklyn fire,
The ne x of the 00,
aa oti her r side of Sonas Jordan,
old oaken bucket which

re in the well,
eee ae old 3 man,

 

 

The thon 8 of ol s waiting for me,

: The fine o} sed

The fine old Dutch dentlowaa
The fine old I Irish gentleman, ’

The spider and the fly,
Se Boras succeeds like

vith s. cee 1,
The can regiment, =

lov
You Tou never tale the water, ete.

Contents of No. 5.

Annie Laurie,

A sailor’s life for me,

Answer to Kate Kearney,

A bit of my mind,

A thousand a year,

Buttercups and daisies,

Bessy was a ee 's bride,

Battle of the k ere,

Be sure you're right, e

Be kind to thy fat! er naa mother,

Come to the ole gum tree,

Call her back and kiss her,

Come where the nioonbeams, etc.

Don’t marry your mother-in-law,

Eulalie,

ently, sweet Afton,
sabelle,

Good news from home.

Gentle Annie,

Haunting eyés

He led her to the altar,

‘ll strike you with a feather,

sle of beauty,

never refuse,

Jocky hat and feather,

J eannette and Jeannot,

amie!
Kitty Kimo,
<ate Kearney,
Lord Bateman and fair Sophia,
My heart’s in the Highlands,
My dear old mother,
My eye and Betty Martin,
No one to love,
“Our laddie’s des vd, Jem,”
Oh! I shall call dada,
ae er too “heavy” for me,
Sléeping, I dreamed, love,
Say, bird of eee
Silver moonlight
bie Echos Piper potdesick: ye
Ship a-h
Sword of ‘Bunker Hill,
Since Terry first joined the sang,
* Strike the iron while it’s hot.’
The star that leas to thee,
The household clock,
"Tilda Horn,
"Twas like a a spirit’s sigh,
*Twas rank and fame,
ae eee i

e way e happy,
The pirate’s Serenaad,
The belle of the ball,
The sweet, sunny smile, ete.
Ten o’elock ; or, remember, ete
The sea king’ 's burial,
The old man’s got to’ £0,
To the love of my youth, etc.
True blue, and seventy-two,
Twenty years ago,
Uncle Ne
Woodman; spare that tree,

Contents of No. 6.

“A lock of. my, mother’s hair,”
Alas! my love’s away,

Answer to a thousand a year,
Away down East,

A life on the ocean wave,

Ada, with the golden hair,

Ben Bolt,

By the sad sea-wave:

Soares eyes has that tittle maid-

Base: ball,"

Beautiful dreamer,

Boy with the auburn hair,

Clear the way,

Castles in the air,

mye mother, I’vé come home to

 

Don’ 't you dare to kiss me, Joe!
Evangeline,

Finigan’s wake,

“Free and easy,”

George, the charmer,

Her pretty, smiling face,

I want to go home to mamma!

I wish I was in Dixie’s land,

I've only been down to the

club,
I really don’t think I shall
arry,
“John, Barleycorn is a aero

Keep on kissing me,

Kicking a man w hen "a 's down,
Katy did, Katy didn

Kind and true.

Lanigan’s ball,

Muleahy’s home again,

Miss Malony’s ball,

My love is still the same,

Merry little birds are we,

Nelly Gray,

Nelly Bly,

Never venture, never win:

Over the mountain,

Oh, merry hours!

Poor Juney,

Poor old slave,

Roger O’Malley,

Rock me to sleep, mother,
Silver stars are softly ‘gleam-

ing,
song ‘of Blanche Alpen,
Sweet lore ago,
“The sai me
The little blacksmith
hee merriest girl that’s out,

no deotdind gay ae
The female le smnucer
i: peepee love,”
Mes le Joe,

 

Victorine
ane ull’ ‘the moonlight falls on

"Sols by oll newsdoaiers, ave cents cacn: oe post pal, Zany adr, on receipt ot six cents per copy.

IN EACH ISSUE.

Contents of No. 7.

Annie of the vale,
Awfully awful,
America,

merican vecal melody,
Bathing in the surf,

Bear iteike aman,
Crazy Jane

Come, maiden, with me,
Dat’s der kind of mans I am,
Dreami: pas drifting,
Every inch a sailor,
ee the griddle, birdie, Dar-

ng,
He knows how to do it,
Z ed you'll be true to me,

Thold the winning h:
2 a eee you it ae pray

J erential blow the fire,

Little diamond dewdrop,

Like a Turk!

Mother, dear, I’m thinking of

you,
My rear little blonde,
age bells,

Mar
imagen,
Never push a man because he’s
‘oing down the hill,
George! beautiful George!
Oh! I'm go! a home,
Prett;
“ Pulli:
renee .
Pretty little primrose,
Gee pou have children of

you
spooning 0 on the sands,
ak to me, speak,
8 ick to your trade and be true,
The belle of Rockaway,
That’s the style ie me, boys,
was a an,
Take this letter to my mother,
The blonde that never dyes,
Tassels on the ts,
The big sunflower,
The rollicking aa
The Mulligan
The blue and
Take your Conk a to your

unclé,
The old folks are gone,
The ee ones at home,
The belle of Pleasure bay,
Uncle Sam’s farm.
Winter—sleigh-bell song,
What is home without a mother,
we gt mt wagon, ;

‘ow ae | were me
Widow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Contents of No. 8.

you awful,’
Brother's fainting a the door,
Bobbin’ aroun:
wees sit by my side, little dar-

ng,
Call me your darling again,
mt pepe Back to Erin,” A

d,
kay y old nigger ball,
ive up the ship,
lovely Lou,
ezekiah.

ng ma:
Dll speak to you gladly uains
I’m going home to Dixie,
Isn’t he a ling?
Jordan is a hard road to travel,
Killarney,
Kitty Clyde,
Little more cider,
La-de-da-de Micks,
Minnie Dear,
Ocean the pore a

my guiding star,

ary len: gal, ‘Hanna,

Dat
Don't

| My little wife ashore

BOO 's darling but mine,
Old Bi erg Joe,
ie girls.

speak kindly to me,
Ont he beach at Long Branch,
“Oh wouid I were a bird!”
Our wee last words,
One hundred

| Pat Roach at ne

he
That’s +he pr
The teetotal society,
The Sone for alderman,
The young widow,
nee ieele on ones asleep,

e ¢

Tra-| fain Ger George! oreel

 

kissing,
The Irish emigrant’ intent,
The ae Seon sword of Erin,’

Those
ue ae the lark: in the morning,
Unha;

vite <a
Wait af the Srna the tid
Willie, we have missed you,”

‘When ' the blossoms are-white in

ee Brown comes rolling
‘Would t were with thee,

 

Young fellah, you’re too fresh,

Me aoaltiat the

 

%

Contents of No, 9.

Brogner te tell ae of the battle,»
e le moon,

Balm upato a d,

Casey’s whisky,

Come one father,

ee ddy,
Dear old words,
Dermot Astore,

De ole corn mill,
‘De bad Bob J.

 

Kafooz oe

Katie Lee and Willie Gray-

Kitty McGee,

Keep a a little corner in yoor
heart for me,

My sweet Polywog,
Merit commands sucess,
My owns ae land,

My sweet girl,
Not befors Pa, de
Our M ee

Oh, let hi’ rest,
Pretty J emima,'d on’t say 20,
Playing in the hay,
Shy you girl; « or, Du-da, da.
She was clerk in a candy store,
Shakey Dinkelspiel,
Still I love thee,
Shells of the ocean,
The Hills of New England,
The gishon t he peat ei happy, life,

The
The a o anniek for, eto.
The old: folks we loved long ago.
The bashful girl,
lant brigade!
The fellar that looks like me,
bird so:

iamon ring,
The o : farm house,

The old und,
Upina cee
Unele geen ay Yankee,

whe te Bae often, darling,

ey the little Binds are sing
in the gar len

wh ky, you're re the ‘divi,

When Jo! comes marching es

Will a mon ee a iree?

Yeur pocket-book is your, et

Contents of No. 10.
A merry Gipsy ett again,
Baby’s ok.
Billy Jo! Soe ball,
Breeze of the night,
Colleen Avarra,
Coming es from the bal*
De ed
“ Doug! tender and true,”
arene Norina,
Dutch onion vender,
Down the river,
Eilleen Allanna,

 

| E Pluribus Unum,

Farewell song of Enoch Arden,

From Madison to Union Squara,

aes of a paee ees
py-go-lucky,

He's such a lovely Waltzer!
Her front name is “ Hannar,”
Have you seen my sister/

I’m the governor's son,

It’s funny when you feel, ete.
Pm leaving tbee in sorrow, etc.
Jack’s yarn,

+ me kiss him for his mother.
Little aoe May,

Minnie eae

eae dear littlé Mollie Malone,

Maj wey poe “2

y’s the bo;

Pasty blue-eyed belle,
Rather too old for me,

 

andsome as a.rose,

The Hoolahan musketeers!
“That’s what our papers say,”
The door ajar,

That girl across the w: a

The fisherman’s datightere
The lake-side shore,

ee e gravee Bonaparte,

ls,
The Newfoundland
The lass that loves a ~
Victo re Jast,
Why ou come and see me.
What a: ed at she be?
Walki eee dway,
When ti d begins to play,

Where het a will ees. ete.
Willie'll roam no mo:

1

“SRADLE. & ADAMS. Publishers. 9% William Street. nN. ©
 

 

aa Beadle’s

Ccntents of No. 11. .
Alma, Mater O,
Ail for her,
An answer to “grease the grid-

dle, Birdie Darling,

Angels whisper,
Baby mine; or, the sailor's wife,
Brig) t-eyed Little Nell of, ete.
Bilnd Orphan boy’s lament.
Oommence, you darkies all,
C 'shlamachree
“ Don’t forget the old folks,”
Don’t make a noise or else, ete..
Durby M’Guire,
£ leen Mavrone,
Farewell, Kathleen,
Gaess what itis you can have it,
Happy are we to-night,
Pu eeeece in the park,
I care not how fortune may vary
Juliana Phebiana Constantina

rown,
Live inmy heart and pay no, etc.
Let me dream again,

y fan,
New England,
Nora M’Shane,
Oh: Erin, my country,
Old (-rimes,
Oh, sce dat angel band,
Over the river,
Obey! obey! obey!
Oh! Joe,
Oh yc tears,
Put by fora a day,
Ram oling thro’ the town,
Say one little prayer in your, etc.
She’s a wink and a smile that
charms me!
Stan! by the poor,
Silver threads among the gold.
She suits me, down to the ground
The lone fish-ball,
The big bonanza,
True to the core,
The post-boy’s song,
“The thin man,”
The good cigar,
The convivial man,
The buckles on her shoes,
“ That gal o’ mine,”
The tar’s farewell, ‘
The boys of Kilkenny,
The last rose of summer,
The age of progress,
The emigrant’s farewell,
Upside down,
Virginia Belle,
When these old clothes were new
Who’!l have me?
When I took our Nance to church
We’d better bide a wee,
We stand here united,
“Yes, or no.”

Contents of No, 12.

A warrior bold,

Ask ime not why; or, the daughter
of the regiment,

Billy Barlow,

“ Billiards and pool,”

Comin’ thro’ the rye,

Beene in the dreamy waltz,
ot leedle sofa,

Gum -tree canoe,

Glac to get home,

Gal from the South,

Give over, John,

Glory haily, hallelujah; or, the
John Brown Song,

fapey Davy.

bk BY DY dreams of you,”

Hip, hurreh! hip, hurrah!

Inever loved before,

“Tm what you cali a military
man,”

Judge not a man by his cloth-

By

Janet’s choice,

Johnny Sands,

“Tittle mountain daisy,”

Little Rosebud,

Love among the roses,

Love’s chidings,

Meet me at the lane,

My father sould charcoal,

My son rae

My latest captivation,

No letter yet for me

No smoking allowed,

Old Noah, He did build an ark,

Oh! I’se so wicked!

“Pull slow and steady, boys,

Pray, have you a letter for
3

e?

Revelry of the dying,

Bong of the butterfly,

She’s a gal o’ mine,

The moss trooper,

The rocky road to Dublin

The hero of the ring!

Tai iy ho,

The light in the window,

There are friends that we never
forget,

The fairy queen,

The rock of liberty,

The belle of the avenue,

The pride of Killarny,

The three black crows,

Wnele Sam is brave and free,

We can’t do without the merry
chink, chink, chink!

What maces ’em wiggle so?

Wearing of the green,

We are out on the ocean sail-

ng,
Where the water-lilles grow,
We wiil hold our own,
Winking at me,

Contents of No 13.

Blue glass,
Come sit by my side, little, ete.
| Come into the garden, Maud,
| Colinette,
Charlie de Rogers,
Do not heed her warning,
Erin is my country,
Farewell, ae
He kissed her and she kissed him,
His deeds be forgotten,
Irish Molly, O,
I think of old Ireland wherever

I go,
I thought she was an angel,
It’s just my ee
1 wish he would decide, mamma,
I want to go home,
Kiss me! would you,
“Keep studying,”
Limerick races,
My rattling mare and I
Never go back on your friend,
Oh! Susannah,
Our grandfathers’ days
Oh, cote avourneen, T will Jet

ou in,

Poly Perkins of Washington, ete
“ Rival frogs,”
St. Patrick’s day,
Sometimes
She tossed her curls at me,
Sweet love, when you are near,
Still so gently o’er me stealing,
See that my nose is kept red,
The rollicking Irishman,
The swell of the day,
The blaek Hussars,
The hat my father wore,
That’s where you make the, etc.
The Gipsy’s warning,
The Italian guinea-pig boy,
Toss the Turk,
The modern belle,
The American boy,
The Irish jaunting car,
The dearest spot of earth,
Tapping at the garden gate,
The land of St. Patrick forever,
The Waterford boys,
Then you'll remember me,
The kiss in the street,
The dear little damsel,
The harp that once thro’ Tara’s

alls,
"Tis home where’er the heart is,
The dying Catifornian,

Thou hast wounded the spirit,
“The colored waiters,”

The Dutch drum major,

Vive la Bacchanal,

We met by chance,

Yankee doodle,

“You’ll sometimes think of me.”

Contents of No. 14,

All’s for the best,

All round my hat,
Brace up,

Cottage by the sea,
Don’t let the roses listen,
Don’t be angry, mother,
Every household has its angel,
Five o’clock in the morning,
Fill the cue all joily fellows,
Grandmother told me so,

In this beautiful land of my, etc.
I'd rather be a violet,

I’m sure that I could do it,

Tam not angry,

I'd be a Gipsy,

I dreamed my boy was home, etc
Tm o’er ou marry yet,
Jenny Brown nd I,

Johny was a shoemaker,
_ Look before leaping,

Letting the old cat die!

aout ong ago.

My old Kentucky home, ete-
My poor dog Tray,

Maggie’s secret,

Married soon we'll be,

My fart with the calico dress,
My home in Kentucky,

Never desert a friend,

Old dog Tray,

Old dog Tray. No. 2.

One sweet little wish, darlin,
Oh! take me to thy heart again,
Our toast!

Red, white and blue,

Row, row, brothers, row,

See if I'd get mad

Star of the twilight,

Sea waves,

She reigns alone,

Stuffed goose,

HERBIE Be the window,

The ribbon of blue,

There’s magic in your kiss,

The farmer’s daughter,

The Canadian boat son¢,

The Glendy Burk,

They say I’m a very tough man!
The farmer sat in his easy-chair,
The battle-cry of freedom,

The Carbineer,

We'd better be happy than rich)
We all are growing old,

What the papers say,

at will Mrs. Grundy say?

What are the wild waves saying?
We can’t agree,

We are growing old together,
Willie’s on the dark blue sea,
We are coming, sister Mary,
We'll have a little dance to-night,

boys.
You've Leen a friend to me,
You are an awful tease}

 

| We miss thee at home

 

Contents of No. 15. |

A man’s a man for a’ that, |

Afloat on the ocean, |

Are thy dreams of me?

A parody on Uncle Sam’s farm, |

A wet sheet and a flowing sea, |

Behind the scenes,

Bingen on the Rhine, |

Call me not back from the echo- |
less shore,

Cease thy weeping, sadden’d, ete. |

Coive sing to me again, |

Corae where my love lies, ete., |

Cruiskeen lawn,

Dare-devil Dick, |

Do a good turn when you can,

Do they miss me at home? |

Ettie May, |

Get your head above the crowd! |

Give me the girl that is tender |
and true! |

Happy little violets,

harp of the wild wind,

He had such taking ways,

I wish I was in Dixie, No. 2,

“ Mollie at

My mother’s Bible,

Nora darling,

Oh, whistle and I’ll come to you,

Poor cnild of the drunkard,

Ring tne bell, watchman,

Soda water,

Something to love me,

Sparking in the winter,
‘apioca,

Take them away, they’ll drive
me crazy

Teddy O’Neale,

“The royal blue,”

The moonbeam is kissing the te |

The farmer’s boy,

The young recruit,

Tae side of life,

Thady O’Flinn,

The Indian hunter,

That soft, sweet waltz,

The Indian warrior’s grave,

The mother’s prayer,

The blue Juniata,

The little old woman,

The way my daddy wenti

Too late to go to church,

Tramp! tramp! tramp)

Under the Starlight,

Unfurl the glorious banner,

‘Washington, star of the West,

We all get jolly as the night, etc.

,
We were boys and girls together,
push my ship comes in,

hen you wash a nigger white.
What the old cock sparrow said,
When the milk goes around,
Whoa, Charley.

Contents of No. 16.

Alice Gray,

A national song,
Annie, dear, good-by.
A national song,

A twilight fancy,
Barney O’Hea,
Banks of the old Mohawk,

Bolle Brandon,

Bonnie Jamie,

Bold privateer,

Bonny Jean,

Comrades, touch the elbow,
Come to me auickly, my darling,
Darling Nelly Moore,

Darling Rosabel,

Dear little colleen,

Down by the old mill stream,
Fancy little step,

Follow the druin

Give me a grip of your hand,
Hieather Dale.

I’d choose to be a daisy,

I'll he a rambler no more,

Vl! wait at the gate for thee,

Ii] hang my harp on a, ete.

In this wheat by and by,

indian hunter,

Is that mother bending o’er me?
I shouldn’t like to tell,

Johnny is gone for a soldier,
Linda’s gone to Baltimore,
Listen, dear Fanny,

Life is like a game of see-saw,
Look always on the sunny side,
Mabel Clare,

Minnie Moore,

Must we then meet as strangers?
My dark-eyed Southern queen,
My grandmother’s advice,

My heart’s in oid Ireland,

Nancy Fat,
Oh, send me one flower from, ete
Old K. Y. Ky.,

Old sideling hill,

Or any other gal,

Pat Malloy,

Remembered still,

Somebody is waiting for some-

body,
Song of the sexton,
Sweet Evelina,
The agony column,
The old cabin home
The unfortunate tailor,
The scientific frog,
The old brown cot,
The American girl,
entle Tan, the r,
eep, Pompey, wee
We are all so fond of kissing,
When Charley’s in the box,
When the roses bloom,
Will mother know me in the sky
Zekel and Hulda.

 

Contents of No. 17.

Adreain of love,
Be kind to each other,
Come sit thee down,
Comic Katee Darling,
Cora Lee,
Comie parody,
Darling Jenny Bell,
Dot holly-tree oudt,
Give ‘em string and let em went
Go it while you’re young,
oop de do di dum,
“T don’t have to.”
Ihave something sweet io tell

ou,
Z fave no mother, now,

I'll bet you’d like to know.

I'm Cone mad,

I wandered by the brookside,
John Jones,

Just look at that, Just look at

s,

Kathleen Mavourneen,

Lillie Bell,

Little Katy, or hot corn,

Little Mollie Brown,

Mary Aileen,

My dearest heart,

My love, he is a sailleur boy,

My mothe: dear,

Nancy Lee,

Nancy Bell, or old pine tree,

Near the little cottage door,

Oh! Marigold

Oh’ the sea, the sea,

Oh: scorn not thy brother,

One more glass before
ae

Our boyhood days,

Our fatheriand,

Parody on “to the west!”

ee

Poor little Flo.,

Pretty Jane,

She frow’d a kiss at me,

we're

The death of Annie Laurie,
The fireman’s victory,
The fireman’s death,
The grave of Lily Dale,
The girl I!eft behind me,
The home of the heart,
The old ve jug,
The promenade elastique,
The quilting party,
The yellow rose of Texas,
To the west.
Vilikins and his Dinah}
Waiting for the May,
What other name than thine,
mother,
en the good times come again
While the gas is burning.

Contents of No. 18.

Ain’t I glad to get out of the
wilderness?

Answer of Katy Darling,

Autumn leaves,

Ben Fisher and wife,

Bitter and mild,

broken-hearted Tom, the lover,

Columbia rules the sea,

Could’st thou but read this heart |

of mine,
Daylight is on the sea,
De ingia-rubber nig,
Don’t you cry so, Norah pang
Evening song to the Virgin, ai

sea,

Good-by, little Katie,

Have I not been kind to thee?

Iam a freeman,

Llove my love,

I’m not myself at all,

I’m the boy that’s bound to blaze
put my arm around her waist;

I’ve been roaming o’er the, etc.

Jane Monroe,

Jolly Jack the rover,

Kate was once a little girl,

Kitty Tyrrell,

Look out for stormy wedder!

Maud Adair and I,

Man the life-boat,

Moses Solomon,

My ain fireside,

My boyhood’s home,

My pretty Yorkshire lass,

My ere is something new,

'y Sus
O’Brien, keep off the grass!
Oh, kiss, but never tell,
“Oh! Peter.”

Poor and gay,
Pretty little Mary, or, chuck, ete.
ig:

 

song of the farmer,
vara ne Sunday night,
Stand by the flag,

Sweet the song of birds,
Rey O'Reilly,

The ashing U.S, marines’ march
The farmer

's boy,
The gold digger’s lament,
The little low room where I
courted my wife,
The old kirk-yard,
‘he storm!
The vagabond
Time alone will prove,

‘om Brown,
True blue is the color for me,
will yee love me just a little?
Would I were a boy again,
Would I were a

rl
You may look, fut Seis
touch,

- Sold by all newsdealers, tive cents each, on sent, post-paid, vo any address, on receipt of six sents per copy.
BLADLE w ADAMS. Publishers, 95 Wil) am Street, W. ¥.

lly, my darling,
Bomiebou ’s courting somebody, | Sil

 

Half-Dime Singer’s Library. is

FIFTY OR MORE SONGS IN EACH ISSUE.

Contents of No. 19,

Anything for Harry,

A merry-go-round,

Across the sea,

A year ago,

Cool “ Burgundy Ben,”

Encore!

Every home has lost a darlin,
Id ojter thee this hand of mine

It’s just what I might have ex
4 pected,
e

rsey Sam,
| Kissing thro’ the fence,

Kind relations,
Lend a helping hand,
Little Cherry Blossom,
Louis Renouf,
Maggie, darling, Iam coming,
Mary of Argyle,
Maria Jones,
Meet me by moonlight,
Nothing else to do,
Och! Paddy, is it Rraoltl
Oft in the stilly n ight,
God, preserve the mariner,
we you like to know?

Paddy on the canal,

Poor old maids,
t-catcher’s daughter,
se- le,

Roll on, silver moon,

Rustic Mary,

Sammy Slap, the bill-sticker,

She’s bright as the morning star

Sweet Dolly Boone! ‘

“The calibar,”

The gambler’s wife,

The haunted stream,

ane ingle side,

e ivy pao

The land of dreams,

The lily of the west,

The Rose of Allandale,

 

| The spade, boys, the spade,
coat,

The tail iv me

The two orphans.

The woman that lives next door,

The yellow coin,

They don’t wish me at home,

Thou art gone from my gaze,
night hour,

Two orphans; or, the Brooklym

fire,
Umbrella courtship,
Uncle Gabriel,
When I saw sweet Nellie home,
When the swallows bomew:

fly,
will you meet melittle loved ete
Will you love me then as now?
Write to me over the water, love,
Young ladies, listen to me.

Contents of No. 20.

Absence and return,
A dollar or two,
A mother’s lovel
gel of my dreams
you lads who was

 

 

rid,

i to the loved ones,

ate than never,

3e watchful and beware; ox,
‘seek not to know the future,

Blue-eyed Mary,

Call me pet names,

Charity, 1
me asong, little May
Venus,

 

 

 

Come, sin;
Cupid an
Dilla Burn,
Don’t you tell my father,
Down among the daisies,
Down the Burn, Davy, love,
oe eae dell,
ating peanuts,
Flirting on the Mall,
Gentle Nettie Moore.
In der sdreed y-und-py
n the days when I was hard up
should like to,
s it anybody’s business?
wish I was,
John Anderson, my Jo, Jo!
Johnny, don’t wriggle the
Last week I took a wife,
ly whisky-red nose,
Napolitaine,
Not married yet,
Ossian’s serenade.
Out in the green fields,
Patriots true and boid,
Perhaps she’s on the railway, —
Pretty Kitty May,
Sumbo, I have missed you,
Renoxike Luz, Ou th
nce Danny went on the stage,
Speakethe truth,
Squire Jones’s daughter,
Sunshine of my beart!
“Take home a fry in 2. Dux!”
The boarding house over the

 

cove,
The child’s wish,
The cho r,
’s request,

Twilight dews,

What are the wild waves

ues coming out fora
ramble,

William of the ferry