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Beadle’s Dime Song Book Series, No. 22,

SONGS OF Ww ILL TAM HW. LINGARD,

MAGGIE MITCHELL, BOBBY NEWCOMB, ETC,

“TOMMY “popp,”

“Walking Down Broadway,” “ Sergeant Cop, Pet of the N. ¥
maine ‘ ‘Little Barefoot, ” “She's a Galo’ Mine, ” Ete,

NEW YORE: :
BEADLE AND COMPANY, 98 WILLIAM ST. *
Am. ifews Oo,. 119 & 12 Nassau Ste N. y

aoe

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at
Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.

 
 

 

 

 

FIFTH AVENUE

SONGSTER.

A COLLECTION oF

POPULAR COMIC AND SENTIMENTAL SONGS.

NEW YORK:

BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,
98 WILLIAM STREET.

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

 

 

   

PUBLISHERS’ NOTE.

The music, with pianoforte arrangement, of any of the
songs in the Firra AvEeNnvE Sonester, can be obtained of, or
ordered through, any regular News or Periodical dealer; or
may be procured direct of the publishers, whose names
and address are attached to-many of the pieces. Having
exclusive arrangements with the music publishers, and
songs being copyrighted, parties are herewith prohibited
using same in any form.

BeapLe axp Company.

 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868,
sy BEADLE AND COMPANY,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States
for the Southern District of New York.

 

(S. B. 22.)

 

 

 

 

 
WY)
A
A
_
H
Z,
O
0

 
CONTENTS.

The fools are not all dead yet,
‘he Grecian bend, - -
ga

Patie’s mill,

he old church choir, —--
Yv ; .

2 Ora

 
 

 

 

FIFTH AVENUE SONGSTER.
Fifth Avenue,

SUNG WITH GREAT SUCCESS BY W. IL. LINGARD.
Copied Hp mee of Wu. A. Ponp & Co., Music Publishers,
547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright.

Before you stands Frank Rifle,
An ensign in our Corps,
I’m not one of those trifles
You've often met before ;
A free and easy fellow,
On the battle-field I'm smart,
But a darling little creature’s
Struck the bull’s-eye of my heart.
CHORUS.

And Ill never, never Jeave her:
Between both me and you,
She’s my darling little treasure,

I met in Fifth Avenue.

*T was at her uncle’s mansion,
I met her at a ball,
I paid her great attention,
For I loved her best of all;
What beauty did adorn her,
As I danced her off her feet,
And in a quiet corner ;
We had a confab sweet.

Spoken : Yes, I told her I loved her, and just at that moment
up stepped her uncle, and said: ‘** Young man, what’s your in-
tentions toward my niece, and what’s your fortune ?”’ I told him
I hada fine estate at Land’s End, but another fellow had an estate
on the top of mine, and I couldn’t get him to pull his off. He
said: ‘You are the man for me, but first promise me that
you’li—” (CHoRUS.)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

 

 

6

 

THE GREAT COMIC SONG,
4 a
Sergeant Cop,
THE PET OF THE N. Y. FORCE.

Copied by permission of Wm. A: Ponp & Co., Music Publishers,
517 Broadway, New York, owners.of-the copyright.

Don’t start, I-bvy, and hear me swear,
My hand upon my breast,
That only your attention
Tam going to arrest!
My beat is in Fifth avenue,
Where ’mong the haughty swells,
Aristocratie tastes prevail,
And so my figure tells!
CHORUS.
For whose the pride of all the force ?
Sergeant Cop! Sergeant Cop!
That's the answer quite of course,
Sergeant Cop! Sergeant Cop !

I look upon street children,
And my glance is stern and high,
And on the Sunday groggeries
I keep my weather eye ;
But. sometimes, all my vigilance
My feelings overcome,
And Meréy seasons Justice with
Av little drop of rum! (CHoRvs.)

I’m tender as a turtle, though,
With all my warlike look,
And in a certain area,
Resides a certain cook ;
Her heart is warm, her victuals. cold,
And both are mine, she swears,
Together with her savings which
She’s put in Erie shares (CHorvs.)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

7

A Smile was all She Gave Me,

AS SUNG BY BOBBY NEWCOMB, WITH IMMENSE SUCCESS, AT
THE SAN FRANCISCO MINSTRELS.

Copied by permission of Ox1ver Drrson & Co., Music Publish- ,
ers, 277 Washington st., Boston, owners of the copyright.

Not long ago I was the beau °
Of 4 pretty girl, named Mary,
With a form so neat, a smile so sweet,
And a:step just like a fairy.
We courted long, my love was strong,
How I wish that she would have me,
But when I did the question pop,
A smile was all she gave me.
CHORUS.
Yet she was so fair, I do declare,
How I wished that she would have me,
But when I did the question pop,
A smile was all she gave me.

 

I sent her notes, I sent her flowers,
I took her out a-riding,
How quick time flies when love and sighs
Are with the hours gliding,
A rival was my only fear,
And I couldn't think to save me,
That when [ asked her who he was
A smile was-all she gave me. (CHORUS.)

At last a note I got one day,
And dreadful news it carried,
Inviting me to come and see
Herself and rival married ;
Now off I went, on death was bent,
Resolved that none should save me,
But Pmnot dead, though she got wed,
And a smile was all she gnve me. (CHO.)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

 

 

 

8

 

 

The Photograph,

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.
“Oh, what a pretty picture, dear,
Your likeness, darling Lou,
’T will make yon jealous yet, I fear,
It is so much like you.”
“A pretty picture, really !
I'd know if I should see,
But, if ’tis very pretty, why,
It can’t look much like me.”
Cuorvus—Not at all like me, not at all like me,
Oh, the likeness I don’t see,
Oh, ’tis not, ’tis not at all like me;

“ Oh, yes, my dear, ’tis true as life,
And art can do no more,

It is so very much like you,
Pve kissed it o’er and o’er.”

“Ha, ha, ’tis poor—the likeness, sir,
I do not quite discern ;

But tell me, pray, can you e’er say
It kissed you in return ?”

“The picture kissed me ? now, my dear,
You surely are in fun,
For though I kissed it o’er and o’er,
It never pays me one.”
“ Ha, then your wrong, [ye got you now,
And you will quite agree,
That if it never kisses back,
Tis not at all like me.”
Crorus—'Tis like you, as you can see,
*Tis like you as all can see,
Oh, the likeness you must see.

 

 

  

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

  

9

Winking at Me.

Copied by permission of Ottver Dirson & Co., Music Publish-
ers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright.

Kind friends, your attention I'll ask for awhile,

And I'll try to amuse you in my simple style,

To sing to you nightly it’s a pleasure, I see,

For the gents in the house all keep winking at me.
Winking at me, winking at me,
Now, how can ‘I sing while you're winking at me ?

 

There’s a gentleman sitting down there at the right,
He came here to-day in a terrible plight,

He’s lately been jilted by a fair one you see,

And now he.comes here and keeps winking at me

Mr. ————, our leader, as every one knows,

Has lately contrived to let his mustache grow,
He’s got a nice wife and big children three,

Now, how can he play while he’s winking at me?

There’s a gentleman there now, who should be at
home
Rocking the cradle of babes he does own,

oes : Yés, that gentleman there whowears the blue cravat
and has a rose in his buttonhole.

No wonder you blush, sir, married man as you be,

To sit there all night and keep winking at me.

There’s a gent. sitting there, dressed with elegant taste,

Be the side of a lady, his arm round her waist,

An artful deceiver I fear he must be,

For, while he makes love to her, he keeps winking at
me.

And now to conclude with my silly rhymes,

I hope I’ve not offended or wasted my time,

*T was meant in a jest, for you plainly can see,
There’s a boy in the gallery keeps winking at me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 
 

 

 

 

10

THE GREAT COMIC SONG,

Tommy Dodd.

AS SUNG IN THE DRAMA oF “ AFTER DARK.”

I lead a somewhat easy life,
Like most men about town,
But still I must submit to you,
I’m somewhat of renown ;
A speculative turn of mind,
It may seem rather odd,
I have a weakness, and it is,
A love for “ Tommy Dodd !”
CHORDS.
I'm always safe when I begin,
Tommy Dodd, Tommy Dodd!
Glasses round, cigars as well,
Tommy Dodd, Tommy Dodd!
Now, my boys, let’s all go in,
Tommy Dodd, Tommy Dodd!
Head or tail ’'m safe to win,
Hurrah for Tommy Dodd!

In town now if you meet a friend,
You can_ not let him pass,

Of course you must do something,
You then propose a glass ;

Now if I meet a chum or two,
T nail them«with a nod,

Propose for each a “ full-grown dose,”
But submitting “Tommy Dodd!”

You've no idea the run of luck,

Which I have found the rule,
Attends you if you go in “hot,”
Of course remaining “ cool ;”

   

(Cx0.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

11

 

s

 

 

A purse is just in case of need,
For you can ride rough-shod,
And live like any fighting-cock,
If you're up in “ Tommy Dodd!” (CHo.)

A friend of mine three daughters had,
He asked me home to tea,
I played and sung, when by and by,
They all ‘‘ spooned ” on to me;
I couldn’t court the lot, you know,
For that would seem so odd,
So I proposed that they’d decide,
By way of “Tommy Dodd!” (Cuo.)

 

Two Heads are Better than One,

“Sure, Katy, you’d much better tarry,”
One day said my mother to me,

“For you still over young are to marry,
My darling to that you’ll agree.”

“Qh mother, your frown sorely tries me,
Why should I not do as you’ve done ?”

“ Sure,” said she, “I had none to advise me,
And two heads are better than one.”

Then who should I meet but dear Larry,
I told him the worst of my fears;
“It’s my mother that won’t let me marry,”
Said I, nearly choked by my tears ;
“Och ! your mother’s advice don’t be dreading,
Sure it’s just the right thing to be done;
For the best of all reasons for wedding
Is—that two heads are better than one.”

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 
 

 

  

 

 

 

12

 

Cupid and Mammon;
OR, YOUNG ALFRED ADOLPHUS,
Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.
“Mamma, I’m so glad I have found you alone,
Tm all in a flutter just now,
I’ve got such a secret to tell you, mamma,
That but you in this wide world must know ;
Young Alfred Adolphus the question has popped,
And asked me his darling to be;
Now don’t frown, dear mother, he loves me I’m sure,
For he wept when he asked it of me.”

“ Only hear ! T shall faint ! I am horribly shocked !
To think you should thus e’er descend ;

Oh, thésthought of your wedding a boy im his bib,
Too nameless to claim as a friend.”

“ As a scholar, but few are his equals, Mamma,
And Europe, you know, he has done.”

“No wide-traveled book-worm shall you ever wed,
Or I be thé mother of one.”

“Mamma, he’s a singer.” “ Oh, fiddle-de-de !
He never shall sing you away,

You had better take up with a baker of dough,
Than a poor, scaly singer of A;

I trust there’s a destiny higher than this,
For each branch: of our family tree ;

’T wasn’t thus when your father and I were made one,
He shared a position with me.”

‘ Well, mother, poor Alfred is lonely and sad,
His. burden is all, he can: bear,
For his aunt, Mrs. Croesus, but lately has, died,
And, made him by will her sole heir.”
“ Good woman! I knew her—my sympathy’s roused,

 

 

 

 

 

  

 
 

 

 

 

  

13

 

We can not his good heart refuse ;
Accept your dear Alfred, unfortunate youth!
And marry as soon ag you choose,”

“Well, then, let us bind up his sorrowing heart,
Affection pour into’ the wound;

We'll take the poor orphan and give him a home,
Right glad such a chance to have found ;

We will share in his sorrows, his music aiid loye—”
“A mother’ “+a wife I will be;

For the poor and unfortunate cast at our door
There is love enough surely for three.”

A Very Bad Cold.

QUARTETTE.

Copied by permission of Roor & Cany, Music. Pablishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

“ Now, madam, first your, voice we'll-try,
Let its echo sound out clear and high.”
“ Excuse me, sir, I’ve such a cold,
I can not sing as I.am told.” (dem, hem.)
CHORUS.
“ Well, it’s no use, to scold,
For we all have a cold;
What a sight to behold—
All have a very bad cold.”

“ Now you may try it if you please,

For you can sing with perfect ease.”

“ With such a voice as mine to sing, (cough.)
It is a most, preposterous thing.” (cough)

“Well, now, sir, see what you can do;

Are you troubled with the asthma, too ?”
“Tl do the best I can to please,

But I may have to stop and—-(sneeze.) (Cu0.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
 

 

   

14

 

 

   

The Bird-Whistle Man.

Ben Golia is my name,
And though it may seem queer,
To Boston town I came,
To sell the goods I’ve here ;
Pve whistles for a penny,
And believe me when I say
*T will teach birds, if. you’ve any,
For to whistle night and day.
CHORUS.
So don’t think me absurd, >,
And believe me when I say
*T will teach your little bird
To whistle night and day.

In Beacon street you'll there
Behold me every day,
A-selling of my wares,
And this you'll hear me say:
“The New Chinese Bird-Whistle,”
Shilling a dozen, a penny for one,
Come buy the new bird-whistle
And I'll show you how it’s done.” (Cxo.)

My sweetheart, Susan Small,
A pretty canary had,
It would not whistle at all,
Which drove her nearly mad;
I gave her one of these here—
Only just the other day,
And now her bird can beautifully whistle
Tootle-tum, tootle-tum tay. (CHorts.)

I suppose it’s time to go,
I think you're getting tired,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

15

 

Though my whistle, ?d haye you know,
Is werry much admired ;

So, ladies, a werry good night to ye,
And, gents, the same to you; :

I hope you'll not forget me,
When my street you passes through.

Walking Down Broadway.

Copied by permission of Wm. A, Porn & Co., Music Publishers,
547 Broadway, New York, owners of the copyright.
The sweetest thing in life,
And no one dare say nay,
On a Saturday afternoon,
Is walking down Broadway ;
My sisters through the Park,
And at-Long Branch wish to stay,
But I prefer to walk
Down the festive, gay Broadway.
Cuorvus.— Walking down Broadway, ®
The festive, gay Broadway,
The O. K. thing on Saturday
Is walking down Broadway.

Last Wednesday afternoon,
My cousin Will did say,
“Nellie, come along with me,
Tl take you down Broadway—
To the Theater Comique,
To see Captain Jinks so gay,
Then we'll dine at Delmonico’s
’Fore returning down Broadway.”

Spoken: And I must say, Jadies and gentlemen, with all due
defererice to other pleasures in life, there’s nothing so charming
| as— ‘ (CHoRvs.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ls

 
 

 

 

 

     

 

 

16

“Little Barefoot.”

SUNG BY MISS MAGGIE MITCHELL.

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

Standing where the bleak winds whistled
Round her small and fragile form ;
Arms within torn garments nestled,
Standing there at night and morn;
Hundreds passing by unheeding,
’Cept to jostle her aside—
There with bare feet cold and bleeding,
She in tones of anguish cried—
CHORUS.
“Mister, please give me a penny,
For I’ve not got any pa—
Please, sir, give me just one penny,
I want to buy some bread for ma !”

 

Hailing thus each passing stranger,
As they hurriedly wen! by,
Some would turn and gaze upon her,
Pity beaming from their eye ;
Others cast a frown upon her,
Heeding not the plantive cry:
“JT must have some bread for mother,
Or with hunger she will die.” | (CHorvs.)

There, one chilly day in winter,
Barefoot sat upon the pave,
Outstretched were her little fingers,
But no pennies did she crave.
There, while begging bread for mother
Death hath chilled her little heart,
Yet each day we see some other

Playing little Barefoovs part. (CHoRUS.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

7

 

Copied My:

 

That Lovely Grecian Bend.

roadway, New York, owner of the copyright.
Oh, if you feel “ inclined,”
Till sing a song to you,
About a handsome belle,
With eyes so sweetly blue.
To smile upon me once,
This maid did condescend,
I never shall forget
Her lovely ‘‘ Grecian Bend !”
CHORUS.
Tis such a funny thing |
Will fashion never end ?
You'll find it all the rage in town,
This lovely, “ Grecian Bend !”

My heart she stole away,
And never would release ;
Her heel was very small,
Just like a three-cent piece !
The little dogs they barked
When down the street she’d wend,
And two large bows adorned

 

permission of C. M. TREMAINE, Music Publisher, 481

Her loyely “Grecian Bend!’ (Cao.)

Oh, fearful to relate,
It makes me always sigh!
One day, upon Broadway,
This maid came toddling by ;
To bow as oft before,
I know she did intend,
She S0wed and broke her neck,
And spoiled her “ Grecian Bend !”

 

 

 

 

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18

 

When Grandmama is Gone.

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Uhicago, owners of the copyright.

In her old arm-chair she’s sitting,
As in days of long ago,
While she’s knitting, knitting, knitting,
Gently rocking to and ‘fro ;
And a dark’ning thought steals o’er me,
Like a shadow o’er the lawn,
Of the lonely days before me,
After grandmama is gone.
CHORUS.
Oh, when grandmama is gone,
When grandmama is gone,
And her'prayers and tears and toils for us are o’er,
Who will cheer us day by day,
All along our weary way,
To the beautiful, the ever shining shore?

Silvered locks beneath the border
Of ‘her snow-white cap I see,
Through a glass, though dimly, fondly,
Falls her loving gaze on me;
On the high, old-fashioned bureau,
Lies the choicest book she’s known,
Who will turn its sacred pages
After grandmama is gone? © (CHoRUs.)

Years ago a dear companion,
Promised her, a blushing bride,
“To protect, to love and cherish,
F’en till death should them divide ;”
O’er a low mound ’neath the willow,
Summer roses long have blown,

 

 

 

   

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

19

 

They will bloom above another
After grandmama is gone.

O’er the hills the sun 1s setting,

And the twilight shadows come,
Still she’s waiting, waiting, waiting,
Till the Master calls her home ;
Though I weep for friends departed,
While they’re going one by one,

I shall have one more in heaven
After grandmama is gone.

The Shamrock of Old Ireland.

There’s a sweet little spot away down by Cape Clear,

Sure it’s Ireland. herself, to all Irishmen dear;

Where the white praties blossom like illegant flowers,

And the wild birds sing sweetly above the round
towers ;

And the dear little shamrock that none can withstand,

Is the beautiful emblem of old Ireland.

In his hat,.good St. Patrick used always to wear
The shamrock whenever he went to a fatr,

And Nebuchadnezzar no doubt highly prized

A bit of the blossom when he went disguised:
For the bosom of beauty itself might expand,
When bedecked by the shamrock of old Ireland.

When far, far away, a sweet blossom I’ve seen,

Tye dreamt of shillelaghs and shamrocks so green,

That grow like two twins on the bogs and the hills,

With a drop in my eye that with joy my heart fills;

And Ive blessed: the dear sod from gq far distant
strand,

And the beautiful shamrock of old Ireland.

 

 

 

 

  

 

 
 

 

   

20

 

 

   

Katrina’s Story.

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.
I am waitin’, love, under the elmens,
That sheltered us twain yester e’en
When you put both your dear arms around me,
And called me your darlin’ Katreen ;
Mayourneen, mavourneen |
And called me your darlin’ Katreen,

Ah, the stream, Joye, is dancin’ and laughin’,
So gayly its high banks between,

And the willows that over it bendin’,
Are bonny With bonniest green,

My darlin’, my darlin’!
Such beautiful, moon-lighted green.

And the stars overhead, love, are winkin’
With light in their beautiful e’en,

They. are sayin’, ‘“‘ Remember the trystin’,”
They’re sayin’ “ Remember yest’reen,”

Mavourneen, mayourneen | ,
They’re sayin’ “ Remember yest’reen.

I am true as that beautiful tree, love,
The pine, with its heart ever green,
An’ for you, lové, my own heart is beatin’,
I’m always your lovin’ Katreen ;
Mayourneen, mavourneen !
The pine, with its heart ever green,

I will go to your cot. by the elimens,
That flicker with shadow and sheen,

IT will greet you with smiles morn and even,
Dear Brian, you'll bléss your’ Katreen ;

Mavourneen, mayourneen |

Ah, yes, you shall bless your Katreen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

  

21

If Papa Were Only Ready.

Copied by permission of Root & CApy, Musi¢ Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright,

I should like’ to’ die, said . Willie, if my papa could
die, too ;

But he says heisn’t ready, ’cause he has-so much.to do ;

And my little sister Nellie says that I must surely die,

And that she. and mamma—then. she stopped, be-
cause it made me cry.

 

But she told me, I remember, once, while sitting on
her knee;

That the angels never weary watching over her and
me; -

And that if we’re good (and mamma told me just the
same before,)

They will will let us into heaven, when they see us
at the door.

There will be none but the holy—I shall know no
more, of. sin ;

But Pll see mamma and Nellie, for I know he’ll let
them in;

But Pll have to tell the angel, when I mect him at
the door,

That he must excuse my papa, ’cause he couldn’t
leave the store.

Nellie says that maybe I shall very soon :be called
away,

If papa was only ready, I should like to go to-day ;

But if I should go. before him, to that world of light
and joy,

Then I guess he’d want to come to heaven to see his

little boy.

 

 

 

 

 

  

 
 

 

 

  

22

 

Dad’s a Millionaire.

Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 67

 

 

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright,

(By Dav himself.)
I wish you joy, my little ragged throng,
Your Dad’s a millionaire!
The fortune’s come we’ve waited for so long,
And I’m a millionaire |
Come, Will, come, Bub, go buy some better shoes ;
Come, Liz, come, Lu—go tell your ma the news—
Though once so poor we're now as rich as Jews,
For I’m a millionaire,
CHORUS.
Hurrah! hurrah! now give us a rousing song—
Good-by !| good-by ! to poverty, want and care;
The fortune’s come we've waited for so long,
And Dad’s a millionaire.

(By Liz, the eldest daughter.)

Good news! I’ll go a-shopping, so. I will,
For Dad’s a millionaire!
And I must have a thousand-dollar bill,
As Dad’sa millionaire.
Put on your duds, and you'll go with me, Lu ;
Come, Bub, go call a carriage from the square ;
We'll ride in style along the avenue,
For Dad’s a millionaire. _ ~(CHORTS.)

(By Wut, the hopeful heir.).-

Wip, hip, hoo-ray ! run up the striped flag —~
My Dad’s a millionaire !

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

23

 

 

 

 

This blessed day I'll buy a trotting nag,
For Dad’s a 1illionaire.
I vow I’ll smoke three-cent cigars no more ;
Here, take them, Bub, and pitch them out the door ;
Til have the best—the dearest in the store,
Now Dad’s a millionaire. (CHORUS.)

(By Dap.)

So, wife, you think this house will never do,
Now I’m a millionaire ?

Well, I must build a mansion, then, for you,
As I’m a millionaire.

Though as for me, I think I should invest

My whole pile in some mammoth farm out west,

Yet I can build, if you should think it best,
Since I’m a millionaire. (CHoRUS.)

(By Liz.)

Tl tell you what, we'll give a party, then,
As Dad’s a millionaire!
And we'll invite none but the “ upper ten,”
Since Dad’s a millionaire.
I should be sure to find another beau,
For dukes and lords, and nobles will be there—
Pve turned him off—the tailor’s clerk, you ‘know,
Now Dad’s a millionaire.
CHORUS.
Hurrah! hurrah! now give us a rousing song—
Good-by!' good-by ! to poverty, want andcare ;
The fortune’s come we've waited for so long,
And Dad’s a' millionaire.

 

 

 

 

  

 

 
 

 

  

 

 

 

24

 

 

 

 

New Version of Tommy Dodd.

Copied by permission of C. M. Tremarnx, Music Publisher, 481

roadway, New York, owner of the copyright,
I lead a very. happy life,
’Tis pleasure without end,
I ne’er had luck to get a wife,
But I’ve a sterling friend ;
I know his heart’s.as true as steel,
His conduct’s neyer odd,
He’s square and eyen—so I feel
A love for Tommy Dodd.
CHORUS.
A dear old friend he is to me,
Tommy Dodd! Tommy Dodd!
He is a brick, and no mistake, —
Tommy Dodd! Tommy Dodd!
I ne’er found friend so true as he,
Tommy Dodd! Tommy Dodd!
What won’t I do for his dear sake ?
Hurrah | for Tommy Dodd!

:

Oh, once I really fell in love,
My heart began to bump;

’Twas then that Tommy proved himself
A thorough-going trump ;

I didn’t know it at the time,
It now seems rather odd,

That I was “ spoons” on Kitty Brown,
And so was Tommy Dodd.

When Tommy found how stood the case,
He never said a word,

And I went in Miss Brown to woo,

And win her “ like a pird ;”

 

 

  

 

 

 
— =

 

 

25

 

 

 

He never let her know his love,
E’en by a wink or nod,
But sung my praises in her ear,
He did—did Tommy Dodd. (CHorvs.)
So time passed on, I Kitty asked,
That she’d become my own,
The day arrived, but with it came,
The news that she had flown;
Bhe’d jilted me for some one else,
I wished him ’neath the sod,
He stole my love—I should have died
Except for Tommy Dodd. (Chorus
Says Tommy, “ Now take my advice,
And don’t be so absurd,
You're well rid of a worthless mate,
You are, upon my word;
Just look upon life’s brightest side,
O’er sorrow ride rough-shod,”
He grasped my hand—lI said, “ I will!”
“Bravo !” cried Tommy Dodd. ., (CxHo.)

Hats.

There is much mischief brewed
In a hat, and much good,

And perhaps if the truth were got at,
Many arts that we find
Now entailed on mankind,

Were first brought to a head in a hat. a
I might liken mankind
Unto hats, for we find

Some are deep, some dre shallow, some flat,
Some are dull, some are bright,
And look gayly and light,

And some look as black as-your hat.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

26

 

 

 

The Fools are not All Dead Yet,

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

The world grows wiser every day,
At least that’s what is said,

But you can believe me when I ‘say
The fools are not all dead.

Take up a paper, read it through,
And see how many bled get

By confidence-men and women, too,
For the fools are not all dead yet.

CHORUS.

Take up a paper, read it through,
And see how many bled get.

By confidence-men and women, too;
For the fools are not all dead yet.

Our young men now live rather fast,
They’re fond of getting tight,

And on brandy-smash and whisky: straights,
Their heads become quite light ;

They smoke cigars and billiards play,
And some an aching head get,

So you can see from what I say,
That the fools are not all dead yet.

The ladies; too, I’m sore afraid,
® : Are fools to follow fashion,
With waterfalls and “ Grecian Bend”
They like to cut a dash in;
They stay up late for balls each night,
Then tired and worn to bed get,
Now they can’t blame us when we say
° That the fools are not all dead yet.

   

|

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

27

Why Not?

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

 

As Patrick and Marytogether were sitting,
Alone by themselves and the warm kitchen blaze,
Says Patrick to Mary as she sat there knitting,
‘“‘Hadn’t we better marry some oneiof these days ?”
Now Mary she sighed, while she looked sweet and
smiling,
And said unto Patrick, “Don’t act like a fool,
Don’t ask such a question, you know I’m not willing,
So just‘move' away with your old broken stool.”

Oh, Pat he'was downcast, but Mary kept knitting,
While he like a statue stood glued to the spot,

His hands in his pockets, a winking and blinking ;
At last he exclaimed, “ Say, now, Mary, why not?

For years we've been courting and loving each other,
And many a fool you have made, it may be,

But if you don’t mind your old father and mother,
There'll be no more fooling between you and me.”

Now Mary, on seeing that Pat was in earnest,
Her knitting she dropped while her eyes filled with
tears,
She opened her arms, crying, ‘‘ Come here my darlint,
Ah, Patrick, my boy, I have loved you for years.”
The sweet bells of Shandon rang out loud and
clearly,
The joy of that day will not soon be forgot,
For Patrick was wed to the one he loved dearly,
And so ends the song, and the story “ why not ?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

28

 

 

 

Minnesota, the Lily of the West.

Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 67

 

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

Come all you men of enterprise,
Who feel inclined to roam,
Beyond the Mississippi;
To seek a pleasant home;
Pray take a pioneer'’s advice,
Tll point you out the best,
I mean sweet Minnesota,
The lily of the West.

I’ve traveled the New England States,
New York and Caroline,

The broad and fertile Sunny South,
And thought them very fine ;

But iin tropic: breeze or frigid gale
My mind could never rest,

Till I came to Minnesota,
The lily of the West.

Our prairies are all, dotted o’er
With houses white as snow,
Where nothing was but cabins rude,
A short ten years ago;
So that’s the way we do things here,
Enjoying it with zest,
In lovely Minnesota,
The lily of the West.

Our infant State her banner waves
In democratic style ;

Though young, a good example sets,

Though some do her beguile;

 

 

 

  

 

 

 
 

 

 

29

 

Her sons the brayest of the brave,
Her daughters are the best,

They’re the pride of Minnesota,
The lily of the West,

The Grecian Bend,

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

Good-evening to you, one and all,
I hope I don’t intrude ;
Dressed in this quiet fashion,
Pray do not think me rude ;
I always study La Tol-let,
The fashion to amend,
So introduce you ladies to
This gracefill Grecian Bend.
} CHORUS.
The Grecian Bend, as I now show,
You must admit is all the. go,
The head well forward and the body you extend,
To be perfect in the Grecian Bend.

 

*Twas raining hard the other day,
So I got into a stage,

Some little boys began to shout,
Which put me ina rage ;

The driver, too, said, ‘Really, Miss,
You’ye. room enough for ten,”

And actually charged me double,
On account of my Grecian Bend.

aes : Twouldn’t minded it so much, only there was Ann
Jenkins, who lives next door to me, in the samestage. She be-
gan to a atme; she’s been practicing the Grecian Bend for
three weeks, but she can’t do it; she’s jealous of me because I
took her young man away. One gent had the audacity to tell
me that the Grecian Bend was nothing more nor less than a
spasmodic movement of the third rib in connection with the
left shoulder. In fact, I need not tell you that— (CHorRUvs.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

d *

80

 

Sara-Neighed,

[Being the air that should have been sung in the celebrated
balcony scene of the new opera Romeo and Juliet.]

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.
Oh, come tothe window, my love,

And. list to the strain that.I sing,
While the halfmoon is swinging above,
Like a chopping-knife lung to a string ;
Ah, sweet is the beautiful night,
With thee it were beauty complete,
Too cold for musketoes to bite,
*T were hard. suel an evening to beat.
CHORUS.
Then come to the window, my love,
And list to the strain that I sing, hoop!
Oh, come to the window, my love,
And list to. the strain that I sing, Ting-a-ling:

Thy hair is like skeins of black silk,
And thine eyes like the pure driven tar,
Thy teeth are as white as new milk,
And thy breath ‘like the’ fragrant cigar.
Oh, pity me, shivering alone,
For love of thee, dewy and damp,
A hoarseness is spoiling my tone,
My elbows they stiffen and cramp. (CHo.)

Oh, come to the window, my dear,
And list to the soft warbling owl,
And the voice of the bull-frog go clear,
And the far-away dog’s distant howl.
She comes not, I’m getting a cold,
And I just heard her bedroom door slammed,
It looks much as if I were sold,
And if so, why she may be—blamed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

  

31

Dickens is the Man.

Copied by. permission of O. Dirson & Co., Music, Publishers,
277 Washington st., Boston, owners of the copyright.

Have youa friend toaid you?
If not listen. to my plan,
Call for Dickens, ask for Dickens,
» For Dickens is the man.
Cuorvus—Oh, Dickens, Dickens, Dickens,
He is the man to plan,
He can aid you, he will do it,
For Dickens,is the man.

 

Have you griefs that overwhelm you, _
Ills you ne’er let people scan ?

Look for Dickens, ask for Dickens,
For Dickens is the man. (CHoRvs.)

Have you a girl that loves you,
Whom you'd marry, if you can ?
Think of Dickens, ask for Dickens,
For Dickens is the man, (CHORUB.)

Have you a wife that rules you,
And who lords it. when she can ?
Think. of Dickens, ask. for Dickens,
For Dickens is ‘the man, (CHoRUB.)

In fact, if you want any thing,
Or a girl a nice young man,
Call for Dickens, ask for Dickens,
For Dickens is the man. (CHoRUs.)

For Dickens, who the Dickens,
Who isthis man to plan? @
Thyself, my friend, you,are Dickens,
You play the Dickens,man. (CHorvs.)

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

   

 
 

     
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   

 

32

 

Mary of Fermoy.

ANSWER TO PAT MALLOY.

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

Just eighteen years of age I am,
My father’s only joy,
He owns alittle farm and cot,
In a place they call Fermoy.
He gave me all the care he could, !
Since my poor mother died,
And I became my father’s pet,
And they say the village pride ;
He often took me on his knee,
When I was but a child,
And kissed me o’er and o’er again,
And blessed me as he smiled,
Of lovers I have got a score,
And some in. dear Fermoy,
And one across the ocean wide,
His name is Pat Malloy.

 

His mother keeps a huckster shop,
Well known for miles around,
And search the country through and through
Her equal can’t he found ;
But, alas, the times came very hard,
The landlord raised the rent,
And Pat to live in idleness | A
Could no longer be content.
He came and asked a question,
‘ And I answered, “ Yes, I will ;”
He kisse@ me many times as if
He'd never get his fill;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

   

   

83

 

Oh, God will surely bless him,
And protect my darling joy,

Till he comes back to Ireland,
And his Mary of Fermoy.

He left Fermoy for England,
And then across the sea,
For good Columbia’s happy shores,
Blessed land of liberty,
Where Erin’s sons are not the slaves
Of landlord or of queen,
And where they can, without offense,
Wear their country’s badge of green ;
My Pat has written home to me,
To other loves decline,
For he has promised me his heart,
And I know that he has mine ;
And now he’s coming home again
To visit dear Fermoy ;
Then father Boyce will change my name
To Mistress Pat Malloy

Kathleen O’More,

My love, still I think I see her once more,

But, alas! she has left me alone to deplore ;

My own little Kathleen, my sweet little Kathleen,
My Kathleen O’More !

She sat at the door one cold afternoon,

To hear the birds whistle, and gaze at the moon,
So pensive was Kathleea, etc.

 

Cold, cold was the night-breeze that blew round the
bower,

It chilled my poor Kathleen, she droop’d from that hour,

And I lost my poor Kathleen, etc.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

   

 

 

 

 

George Erastus Wm. Henry Brown,

AS SUNG BY JOHNNY PENDERGAST.

Copied by permission of O. Drrson & Co., Musi¢ Publishers,
277 Washington st., Boston, owners of the copyright.

Oh, it’s here I am, by jingo, just listen to my lingo,
And watch the movement of my toe and heel ;

I am sassy, tall and slim, full of fun up to de brim,
I ginger golly, gosh, how good TI feel!

I never lose a chance to sing or have a dance,
And I don’t fear. no outside competition ;

I’m loose about the clothes, as everybody knows
I’m, the latest and only genuine edition

Of Geo. Erastus William Henry Brown.

Spoken; That’s my name,

Oh, ’m known all oyer town, as I travel up and
down
With my careless don’t you like it sort of way,
No one bothers me, for it’s.very plain to see
That to fool with George Erastus wouldn’t pay.
Oh, the girls roll up their eyes, and the men stare with
surprise,
And they say that I’m the happiest. moke of all.
I spend my money free on each pretty girl.I see,
That goes to theater, party or fancy ball
With Geo. Erastus William Henry Brown.
Spoken: That’s my name.

But there’s one bewitching gal, and hername is Sassy
Sal,
And I love her best of any in the nation,
She is handsome, tall and fine, and I’m bound to make
her mine,
And be the happiest moke in all creation.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

   

35

 

So good-biy, white folks all, and some other time I'll
call,
And try to pleasé you with my song and rhyme,
And before I go away, I want to hear you say
That you’ve spent. a very pleasant time
With Geo. Erastus William Henry Brown.

A Tragical Tail. -

Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright,

Oh, listen awhile to my tragical tale,
Be still as you ever can be,
For I will be heard. while. I wildly. bewail,
The fate of poor Thomas Maltese.
CHORUS.
Ah, pity poor kitty, poor Thomas Maltese,
Ah, me! ah, me! ah, me!

Old Thomas was one of the nicest. of cats,
So kind, and go clean, and so quick ;

We s’pose that he used to kill mices and rats,
But we know that he killed the poor chick.

Well, what if he did, must, the poor fellow die ?
You’yechough, do you grudge hima crumb ?
We're all fond of chicken, though maybe more sly,

We're none of us better than “ Tom.” (CHo.)

Old Thomas has long been a faithful old friend,
But now they declare he must die;

Tm sorry to think of his terrible end!
If I only had time, I'would cry. (CHorvs.)

Don’t kill poor Thomas, I think it a sin,
Beacuse he has seen his best day ;”

But they'll dig him a grave, and they'll tumble him in,
And that’s what he'll get for his pay. (Cuo.)

 

 

 

 

 

e

 

 
 

 

  

86

Bessie Jayne.

Copie*. by permission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 67

 

 

 

 

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

Bessie Jayne, the days are fleeting,
Precious moments gliding by ;

Let us settle that vexed question,
Pending long twixt you and I.

Do not leave me thus in torture,
Tell me not that love’s a myth;

* Every lassie has her laddie,”
Bessie Jayne, be Bessie Smith.

CHORUS.

When the winter stars are shining,
When I hear the summer rain, —
Sun and shadow, night and morning,
Visions bring of Bessie Jayne.

Bessie Jayne, I’m eyer thinking
What a jolly thing ’twould be,
Just to’ have a little cottage,
Big enough for you and me,
Somewhere on a woodland hillside,
All with ivy overgrown,
Where that Jones'could never find us;
Bessie Jayne, be all mine own. (CHO.)

Bessie Jayne, our youth is passing,
T have loved you long and well;
Patience may not last forever,
Love might vanish, who can tell ;
Then have done with idle flirting,
Bravely meet the aim of life,
Send that Jones about his business—
Bessie Jayne, be Smitaie’s wife. (CHo.)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

37 -

 

A Warning to Parients,

Copied by permission of OxrveR Ditson & Co., Music Publish-
ers, 277 Washington st., Boston, owners of the copyright.

My song is of a nice young man,
Whose name was Peter Gray,
And he fell in love with a nice young gal
In Penn-syl-va-ni-a.
In Penn-syl-va-ni-a, ete.

Cuorus—Oh, come back, Peter,

 

 

Oh, come back Peter Gray,
While we sing tvo-ral-laddy, oh!
Sing too-ral-laddy dey.

They wanted to get married,
But her daddy he said no,
So he cruelly transported her
Beyond the O-hi-o,
Beyond the O-hi-o, etc.

When Lizzie found her love was crossed,
She didn’t know what to say,
So she went and drownded dead herself,
In the Sus-que-han-ni-a.
In the Sus-que-han-ni-a, ete.

Then Peter Gray went trading,
For furs and foreign skins,
When he got scalped and thomas-hawked
By the nasty In-ji-ins.
By the horrid In-ji-ins, ete.

Stern parients, let boys and gals
Get married when they can,

For he who parts;two loving hearts
Ain’t worth a single

 

 

Ain’t worth a single

» tC.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

     
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
  
  

 

38

The Little Boot-black.

Copied by permission.of Roor & Capy¥, Music, Publishers, 67

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.
Vith his stock in trade beside him,
And his brushes in his hand,
Witb a Jook as independent
As the highest in the land ;
In a busy up-town corner,
Just beyond the rushing crowd,
Stands a merry little fellow,
To some passer shouting loud ;
CHORUS.
Black your boots, sir? black your boots, sir ?
Just the thing they need ;
Shine ’em up, sir? shine "em up, sir?
Do it quick, indeed,

Now he has a boot before him,
And his brush like magic flies,
Till there’s nothing in creation,
Blacker than the boot-black’s eyes ;
Nothing brighter than the polish;
But his roguish, knowing smile;
And the curreney, he pockets,
Shouting lustily the while: _. (CHoRgs.)

Carriages roll by unceasing,

Silken trails the pavement sweep,
Jewels sparkle in the sunshine,

Wrinkled misers past him: Creep ;
But he heeds not wealth nor beauty,

Of the thousands on the streets,
With their pride and pomp of fashion,
He sees nothing but their feet. — (CHo.)

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

2
vo

 

He has equal wealth of sunshine,
With the monarch on his throne,
And no jeweled beauties passing
Fairer locks have than his own,
Health and honest pride his treasures,
Not a burglar does he fear ;
Who can wonder that his shouting
Is so full of, hearty cheer, (CHORUB.)

Oh, Maggie, When the Sun Goes Down,

Copied by permission of C. M. TREMAINE, Music Publisher, 481
Broadway, New York, owner of the copyright.
Oh, Maggie, when the sun goes down, ‘to-night,
And the birds to their nests have flown,
We'll meet by the brook ’neath the moonbeam’s light,
And wander there alone.
And will talk, as the brook murmurs o’er its stony bed,
Of the things we have thought, but our lips never
said,
And swift will be tlie moments’ flight,
By the brook; Maggie dear, to-night.
CHORUS. :
Neath the moonbeams, by the brook to-night,
We will roam when the world is hushed in dreams,
While swift glide the happy moments in their flight,
By the brook, Maggie deur, to-night.

Oh, Maggie, when the sounds of toil are o’er,

And the world is hushed in dreams,
We'll roam by the brook on its pebbly shore,

’Neath the moon’s sweet smiling light,
Then we'll list, to the sound of the brook flowing by,
And we'll talk, dear, of love, while no one lingers nigh,
And swift will be the moments’ flight, etc.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

  

 

 

40

Walk, Walk, Walk.

Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Music publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright,

The popular sensation,
The wonder and the talk,
Is how to make the quickest time,
And never break a walk ;
The whole Yankee nation
Is taking to its heels,
The very locomotive cars
Are getting off their wheels.
CHORUS.
Then walk, walk, walk, everybody walk,
Don’t hop, skip, or jump, but vigorously walk ;
Steam’s too slow, riding’s not the talk,
Don’t sail, don’t drive, but everybody walk.

 

Some walking for a wager,
Some walking for the drinks,
Some walking off a thousand miles,
And some a thousand links ;
Some walking ala Blondin,
Some walking on their head,
And others walking day and night
Until they tumble dead. - (CHORUS.)

But never mind the uproar,
Be thankful ’tis no worse ;
Like measles, mumps or chi¢ken-pox,
The thing must have’ its course ;
And by-and-by the hobby
Will make a sudden baulk,
Flare ‘up, collapse and fizzle out,
And that will end the walk. (CHorvs.)

 

 

 

  

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

  

4?

Y’heave ho!

All folks young and old who—y’heaye ho!

Choose to come and listen a while unto me,
I'm a-going to make bold to—y’heave, ho !

Spin a sailor’s yarn all about the deep blue sea,
With a yheave ho-i! ho! with a y’heave ho-i! ho!

 

Our captain had a daughter—y’heave ho! y’heaye ho !
Which her name ‘was Eliza, with beautiful blue eyes,
Andvat school they had taught her—y’heave ho!
To play on the pianer and singing likewise.

The boatswain was my messmate—-y’heave ho!
And he fell in loye with Eliza, and she with him
also.
To the captain he confessed it—y’heaye ho!
But the captain he forbid him in the cabin to go.

Says Eliza to her father—y’heave ho! y’heave ho!
“_ “Without my dear boatswain I'll never live con-
tent.”
Said the captain, “ Miss, I'd rather—y’heave ho
Throw you overboard to the fishes than ever I’d
consent.”

Then Eliza took a notion—y’heave ho! y’heave ho!
As her father was so cruel she’d be revenged on him;
So she jumped into the ocean—y’heave ho !
And there she was drownded, all because she
couldn’t swim.

Then the boatswain astounded—y’heave ho!
He says, “ I will save her, or perish,” says’ he,
So he jumped in and was drownded—y’heave ho!
And there’s them two lovyers at the bottom of the
sea,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

    
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
        

 

42

The Old Church Choir,

TO FATHER KEMP, OF ‘“‘ YE OLD FOLKS.”

 

Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright,
Do you remember, oh, my friend,

The days when we were young ;
The church that stood upon the hill,
The choir in which we sung ?
The gallery so vast and high,
Which. never organ knew,
But had a. flute and violin,
And big base-fiddle, too?
CHORUS.
The old choir, the dear old choir,
Is broken up and gone; /
But still the choir, the old church choir,
In memory’ fond lives on.

When Father Willard tuned his' strings,
And gloried in the.sound,
And on the merry boys 4nd girls
So roguishly looked round ;
Where Hepsv’s clear, soprano: voice,
Rose high in old Dundee ;
Oh, “on the wings of mighty winds,”
Those days come back tome. (CHoRUS:)

How sweet the alto. used to: be,
When Harriet and Maria,

With mellow, pure and-liquid tones,
Sung in the: old church choir,

Do. you remember John, my love,
Whose ear did something lack,

He always sung the loudest with

Whoe’er sung at his back. (Cmorvs.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

43

 

 

Have you forgot the trick we played
On John and Gilbert, there ?
The hoods we wore we slyly changed,
In coming down the stair ;
And at the foot, deceived by this,
Stood each expectant beau ;
How disappointed was each swain,
That night so long ago. (CHORUS.)
And now, my friend, we’re growing gray,
But still our hearts will fire
With memories of the times when, we
Both sung in that. old choir ;
And “ Coronation,” “ Ortonville,”
And other tunes. we sung,
Will almost make us now believe
That we again are young. (CHORUS.)

The Lass o’ Patie’s Mill,

The lass 0’ Patie’s mill,

Sae bonnie, blithe, and gay,
In spite of ‘a’ my skill,

She. stole my heart away ;
Her looks they were’so mild,
_ Free from affected pride,
She.me to love beguiled ;

I wished her for my bride.

Oh, had T a’ the! wealth
Hopetoun’s high mountains fill,
Insured long life and. health,
And pleasure at my will,
Pd promise and: fulfill
That nane but bonnie she,
The lass o’ Patie’s mill,
Should share the same wi’ me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

  

44

 

 

 

 

The. Organ-Grinder,
A POPULAR COMIC SONG.
You see before you.a young man,
Who mourns both night and day,
For the loss of a pretty girl named Fan,
Who has stolen his heart away ;
She said she loved me faithfully,
And vowed we ne’er would part,
But she’s gone away with an organ man,
And broken this poor heart, heart, heart.
So IT mourns for the loss of the girl I love,
T don’t know where to find her,
She’s gone away from her turtle-dove,
With a nasty organ-grinder.

At a twelye-roomed house in Canonbury Square,
She lived as kitchen-maid,
Six pounds a year and all she could find
Was the salary 'she got paid.
Oh, how often down those area steps,
I’ve crept like an old Tom-cat,
And after having a good blow-out,
T’ve filled my poor old hat, hat, hat.
But I mourns for the loss, ete:

Out of all the servants in the square,
She used:to take the shine ;

She'd a delicate turn in her ankle,
And ‘a great big crinoline;

When she used to clean the front door-steps,
How the chaps they used to stare,

And throw sheep’s eyes and heave*big sighs,
Which made me tear my hair, hair, hair.

But I mourns for the loss, ete.
Spoken: Oh, what depravity.

 

 

 

 

 

  

 
 

 

  

45

Now Lsoon began to notice
That whenever I passed that way,
There was always an organ-grinder there,
A grinding “ Old Dog Pray.”
He’d grind and ground, until he found
He couldn’t grind any more ;
And when they told him to move on,
He'd go and grind next door.
But I mourns for: the loss, ete.

Now, one day “ Fan” asked this organ man
To play her “ Uncle Sam,”

She gave him coppers in return,
And a plate of “ cold roast lamb.”

Then he told her he was.of noble blood,
And would be a marquis one fine day ;

In fact, he told her such thundering lies,
That with him she, eloped away—that day.

So I mourns for the loss, ete.

Well, the last I heard of the happy pair,
’T was down in Pimlico ;

The fellow was a-grinding on his instrument of tor-

ture, :

And Fan played the “old banjo ;”

But to mourn any more for a girl like that,
I should only be a dunce;

So I'll think no. more of on and her organ man,
But hope they’ll get six months—

 

|
Spoken; With hard labor, for disturbing Mr: Babbage in his
| skyentific pursuits and mental miscalculations.

| So no more [ll mourn for the girl I loved,
And no more Ill try to find her;

She may go and be blowed for what I care,
Yes, and so may her organ-grinder.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

  

46

 

 

 

 

Don't Stay Late. To-night,

Copied _by permission of Roor & Oapy, Music Publishers, 67

Washington st., Chicago, ownens,of the copyright,

The hearth of home is beaming
With rays of rosy light,

And loving eyes are gleaming,
As fall the shades of night,

And while thy steps are leaving
That circle pure and:bright,

A tender voice, half grieving,
Says, “ Don’t stay late to-night.”

CHORUS.

Oh, don’t stay late to-night—
Oh, don’t stay late to-night,

A tender voice, half grieving,
Says, “Don’t stay late to-night.”

The world in which thou movest,
Is busy, brave and wide ;
The world of her,thou lovest
Is at the ingle-side ;
She waits for thy warm greeting,
Thy smile is her delight,
Her gentle voice entreating,
Says, “Don’t stay late to-night.” (Cao.)

The world, cold and inhuman,
Will spurn thee if thou fall—
The love of one pure woman
Outlasts and shames them all;
Thy. children will cling ’round thee,
Let fate be dark or bright,
At home no shaft can wound thee,
Then “ Don’t stay late to-night.” (Cro.)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

Bear it Like a Man,

I gayly sing from day to day,
A careless man am J,

As long as I can pay my way,
Misfortune L defy ;

And then with spirits ever gay,
I do the best I can,

When trouble comes upon my way,
To bear it like a man.

CHORUS.

I gayly sing from day to day,
And do the best I can,

When trouble comes upon my way,
To bear it like a man.

We're told that since the world began,
That's many years ago,

if “money did not make the man,”
It “made the mareto go ;”

Of comforts I have quite enough,
Although my wealth is small,

I know that I am better off
Than folks with none at all. _(Caorvs.)

And one thing, too, I hold it good,
Wherever I may be,

“To do to others as I would
That they should do to me.”

This world would ne’er be dark and drear,
If each would try the plan

Of giving when they had to spare
To help their fellow-man. (CHoRUvs.)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

   

48

 

Copied by

 

 

   

The Whistling Thief

When Pat came over the hill,
His colleen fair to see,
His whistle loud and shrill
The signal was to be.
“Oh, Mary !” the mother cried,
“ There’s somebody whistling sure.”
“No, mother, it’s only the wind,
That's whistling through the door.”

“ve lived a long time, Mary,
In this wide world, my dear ;
But the wind to whistle a tune like that,
I never before did hear.”
“ But, mother, you know the fiddle
Hangs just behind the chink,
And the wind upon the strings of it,
Is playing a tune, I think.”
(Bark like a dog.)
“The dog is barking now,
And a fiddle can’t play a tune.”
“But, mother, you know that dogs
Will bark when they see the moon.”
“ Now how can he see the moon,
When you know he’s old and blind?
Blind dogs can’t see the moon,
Nor fiddles be played by the wind.”
(Imitate a pig.)

“ And there now is the pig,
Oneasy in his mind.”

“ But, mother, you know the saying,

That pigs can see the wind.”

 

 

 

ermission of OLIvER Dirson & Co., Music Publish-
ers, 277 Washington street, Boston, owners of the copyright.

 

 

 
 

 

 

  

49

 

“That’s all very well in the day,
But allow me, miss, to remark,

That pigs no more than ourselves,
Can see any thing in the dark.

“Tm not such a fool as yeu think,
I know very well it is Pat;
Get out, ye whistling thief,
And get along home out o’ that ;
And you, miss, be off to bed,
Don’t bother me with your tears,
For though I have lost my eyes,
I haven’t yet lost my ears.”

Out of the Tavern.

Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Music publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

Out of the tavern I’ve just stepped to-night,

Street, -you are caught in a very bad plight;

Right hand and left hand are both out of place,

Street, you are drunk, it’s a very clear case.

Moon, ’tisa very queer figure you cut,

One eye is staring while the other is shut,

Tipsy, I see, and you're greatly to blame,

Old as you are, ’tis a terrible shame.

And now the street lamps—what a scandalous sight,
None of them soberly standing upright,

Rocking and swaggering—why, on my word,

Each of the lamps is as drunk as a lord.

 

 

All is confusion—now isn’t it odd,
I am the only thing sober abroad ;
It would be rash with this crew to remain,
Better go back to the tavern again.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

  

 

   

 

 

50

 

Gird on! Gird on!

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

With joy we hail the beauteous light
That dawrs upon our wearied sight,
The ensign of the temperance band,
The day-star of our lovely land ;
Slavery and death the cup contains;
The direst pangs of grief and pain ;
Then haste, oh, freemen, now be wise,
And fling your banner to the skies.
CHORUS.
Gird on, gird on your swords of trust,
Band of the noble and the just ;
The star of hope will guide the free,
And lead»you on to victory.

Hark! hark! itis thy brother’s call,

That wounded; ruined by the fall,

Still asks a brother’s kindly aid

To snatch him from the drunkard’s grave;
The widows’ and the orphans’ cry

Have reached the portals of the sky ;

The Father hears and asks you still

Oh, blessings will to him be given,
Who dares to do the will of heaven;
The tender chords of human love

Be touched by angel hands above;
Then beautiful the silvery ray

That brings the light of freedom’s day,
The grandest theme by poets sung,
The glorious temperance cause is won.

 

Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 6+

On earth to do His holy will. (CHoRUs.)

 

 

 

=

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

51

 

Anyhow,

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the capyright,
Grnt.—Tell me, maid of Rosendale,
Tell me now, oh, tell me now !
Will you leave this lonely vale ?
Lapy—-Not with you, sir, anyhow.

Gent.—Maiden, I have houses fine,
Acres that await the plow,
Lands and honors shall be thine—
Lapy—! don’t want them, anyhow.

Grntr.—Dearest maiden, on the sea
T have many a gallant prow,
Treasures they shall bring to thee,
Lapy—They’re but trifles, anyhow.

Gunt.—Sweetest floweret of the vale,
Fame’s bright garlands bind my brow,
Men my name with honor hajl—
Lapy—Fame’s a bubble, anyhow.

GENT.—Maiden, ere. I say good-night,
Oh, relent, while here I bow,
If I do not woo aright,
Tell me how, oh! tell me. how !

Lapy—If with me you would prevail,
Love me truly, truly vow,
That when, youth and beauty fail,
You'll still love me anyhow.

Gent.—Fairest lily of the vale,
This and more than this I vow.
Lapy —Then with you I'll leave this vale,
Any time or anyhow.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

   

52

 

Copied b

 

   

What Norah Said.

REPLY OF NORAH -O’NEAL.

ers, 277 Washington st., Boston, owners of the copyright,
Is it lonely ye are then without me ?
Only wait, and I'll come by-and-by ;
For meselt’s just entirely as lonely,
And, darling, I give sigh for sigh.
If the glance of my eye’s like the star, love,
If my voice sweetly sounds on your ear,
In your-own looks of love my eyes brighten,
And my voice tender grows when you're near.
‘ CHORUS.
Is it lonely ye are then, without me ?
Only wait, and I'll come by-and-by ;
For meself’s just entirely as lonely,
And, darling, I give sigh for sigh.

Sure the nightingale’s notes are delightful,
When he warbles at night in the wood;
And if birds taught, us colleens. loye’s language,
He’s the sweet little birdie that could.
But it wasn’t from him I Jearnt singing ;
Not from nightingale, no, nor from oye ;
"Tis my heart in my voice makes the music,
When I see the dear boy that Ilove. (CHo.)

Then, my darling, oh, speak not of sorrow,
To her heart’s core your Norah is true ;_

Who knows, Dennis dear, that you love her,
And, Dennis, you know she loves you.

And would ye, then, wait till to-morrow,
While.the moon shines in heaven so bright,

And the Jane, and the kiss, so convaniant,
Won't I meet you, my darling, to-night.

Cuorvus—But would ye then wait, etc.

 

 

 

 

ermission of O1iveR Dirson & Co., Music Publish-

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

58

The Latch-String at the Door.

Copied by permission of Root & Capy, Musi¢ Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

 

Go wander where you may, my friend,
On faithless sea or shore,

You'll always find, when you'come back,
The lateh-string at the door;

Though strangers may not know your worth,
And pass your virtues o’er,

At this old house you'll always find
The latch-string at the door.

CHORUS.

For we're true friends in this 0ld house,
Your own true friends of yore,

And you wil! find true hearts within,
And-the latch-string at the door.

True hearts will welcome you within,
As they have done before,
By night or day you'll always find
The latch-string at the door ;
For we have known and loved you long,
We could not love you more,
So never doubt you'll always find
The latch-string at the door. (CHoRvs.)
Oh, never will your friends forget :
The happy days of old,
When round the winter fire at night,
Our merry tales were told;
But always in our hearts will live
The loyes and joys of yore,
Till you return and find again,
The latch-string at the door, (CHORUS.)

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

   

   

 

 

54

Come Back to the Farm,

Copied: by permission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners,of the copyright.

 

Brother, come back, come back!
Dear brother, what can be the charm,
That holds: you,so strong—that keeps you so long
Away from your, father’s old farm ?
Poor father, he telly how he needs you,
And would it be more than is. due,
His labors to share, his burdens. to bear,
Who once bore your burdens for you?
CHORUS,
Tis the voice of your sister—she calls you,
In tones both of love and alarm ;
“By dead mother’s prayers—by, father’s, gray hairs—
Dear brother, come back.to the farm,”

Father, though. years ago
The ablest and strongest of men,
Is failing at last—you know he has past
The mile-stone of three score and ten.
He’s feeble, he’s tremblingy he’s lonely,
Who once was.so fearless and brave ;
Yet you are away, while day after day
He totters on down to the graye. (CHoRUts.)

Come from the wide, wide world,
Where dangers and perils abound !

Oh, how can you roam so far from your home,
Where safety and comfort are found ?

Come, bring us the light of your presence,
Come, give us the strength. of your arm,

That we may once more see joy, as of yore,

Sit smiling upon the old farm, (CHORUS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

55

 

Bonnie Marguerita,

Copied _by permission of Roor & Capy, Music Publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.
The robin carols from the leafy grove,
Her merry merry roundelay,
And gently flows the lilly-dotted stream
Along its bright and sunny way ;
The summer sky calm, and serenely fair,”
Smiles like the lip of blushing bride,
But faded are its rosy charms for me,
Since my bonnie Marguerita died.
CHORUS.
There’s a lone grave down beside the murm’ring stream
Where the wind a mournful requiem sighs,
Where the tall grass waves and bending willows gleam,
There my bonnie Marguerita lies,

Oh, that earth’s purest, loyliest.and best,
The shining mark of, death should be!

Oh, that the radiant soul-light, should, go out
Forever from her mild blue e’e !

She was the idol of life’s early day,
My own, my peerless one, my pride;

And hope’s fair star grew rayless, cold and dim,
When my bonnie Marguerita died. _ (CHo.)

How oft I’ve heard her sweet and silver voice
Fall music-laden on my ears ;

How oft I’ve watched upon her downy cheek
The bloom of pure and tender years;

But death’s dark wing swept o’er her sunny brow,
She drooped and withered by my side ;

One fervent kiss, one spirit-parting paryer
And my bonnie Marguerita died.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

   

 

 

56

The Upper Ten.

SUNG BY LINGARD.

 

 

Copied ea of C, M. TREMAINE, Music Publisher, 481 4

roadway, New York, owner of the copyright. .

Like famed Jack Brag, that dashing blade,
Who lived in by-gone days,

Disgusted with my father’s trade,
Myself I sought to raise

High in the fashionable world ;
So when my father died, then

I spent the cash ['d earned by work,
Amongst the upper ten.

Spoken: Yes, the gov'nor kept an oil and color store in Fulton
street, but, of course, I never talked shop—

CHORUS.

When I belonged to the upper ten,
The upper ten, the upper ten,

Such handsome women and jolly men,
We swells of the upper ten thousand. '

My style of dress, as you may see,
Is always quite correct,
Park-loungers stop to look at me,
My costume to inspect ;
“ Who’s that man’s tailor?” I oft. heard
Remarked by envious men ;
They took me for “ ten thousand a year,”
Amongst the upper ten.
When I belonged, ete.

But running short of cash I tried
My fortune to recruit,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

57

 

By looking round me for a wife,
And soon found one to suit ;
A lovely young Fifth Avenue belle,
Rich, idolized by men,
Oh, lucky chance by which I fell
Amongst the upper ten.
And she belonged, ete.

She spoke about my family,
*T was rather awkward ground,
For in Debrett my pedigree
Can not be plainly found ;
/ But I told her mine was Norman blood,
And, satisfied, she then
Said she’d be mine, and with me shine
Amongst the upper ten.
And we both belonged, etc.

One day, as we down Broadway strolled,
By chance I met a friend,

Who'd known me and my dad of old,
His, hand he did extend.

* How’s business, what’s the price of oils?”
He shouted out, and then

I felt it was all up with me,
Amongst the upper ten.

Spoken: Yes, fancy yourself walking down Broadway, with
a lovely young creature. hanging on your arm, anda shabby
sort of fellow coming up and saying, “T say, what is the price
of oils?” It ruined me; and you should have seen her, as

looking into my face, her eyes flashing fire and all that sort of
thing, she said—

I thought you belonged, etc.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

  

 

 

 

 

58

 

 

The Bachelor's Woes.

HIGHLY HUMOROUS.
- Copied ak cf Outver Dirson & Co., Music Publish-
ers, 277 Washington street, Bostou, owners of the copyright,
Some twenty years ago, or more,
I went to see'a gal,
The lovely blooming creature bore
The charming name of Sal;
Her eyes shone out like diamonds bright,
Her hair in ringlets fell,
No ugly waterfall in sight
To mar my pretty belle. «

But for some cause unknown to me,
Except it was my phiz,

The old man said, I ne’er should be
A son-in-law of his.

A pewter face, with goggle-eyes,
Set in a brainless head,

He ever did and should despise—
So you shan’t/be marriéd.

But, the gal, she kinder liked me ‘still,
And didn’t care for dad,

She said that she would have her will,
Though all the folks were mad.

So we contrived a pretty plan,

(For contrivance is my forte,)

How we could cheat the hard old man,
And have a chance to court.

.

’Twas on one pleasant Sunday night,
When poppies were in bloom,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

59

 

 

 

 

 

I combed my hair, set all things right,
And quickly left my room.

I went direct o’er swamp and lea
To see that, blessed gal,

My heart kept jumping like a flea,
While thinking of my Sal.

While standing at the farm-house, door,
Where oft before I'd been,

I thought I heard the old man snore,
And:themcould venture in ;

But when upon the stairs we met,
I gave Sal sucha smack,

The old man waked, and groaned, you'd thought
Him dying on the rack.

“ Who's there ?” he cried, in voice of fright,
“ Who dares disturb my rest ?

To hunt him out this very night
Til surely do my best.”

“Oh, dad,” said Sal, “ why fretting so ?
Tis nothing but a rat’!”

“Tis false,” said he, “do I not know,
Rats never kiss like that?” ~—/

Alas! there was an iron spike
Protruding from the wall,

It caught and held me scare-crow like
Or as mutton in a stall.

Beside their tauuts at my expense,
Their heartlessness and scoff,

They seized a.rail from out the fence,
And cruelly poked me off.

 

 

 

 

 

 
  

 

 

 

60

 

Copied by

Pp

Room for One More.

Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.

“ All aboard for the depot!
Hurrah, we can’t wait!
Ten minutes to train time,
Hurry up, you'll be late!
Oh, yes, here is room,
Find a seat near the door,
For' we're never so full
But there’s room: for one:more.”
CHORUS.
“Room for one more—
Room for one more ;
Never so full
But there’s room for one more,

There is “ room for one more”
In the world’s omnibus ;
What need of complaining,
Or making a fuss ;
“We can bear being crowded,
The ride is soon o’er,
So we'll just move along
And make “room for one more.”

There is “room for one more”
In the heart that is true;

Always room for the worthy,
It may be for you;

Love’s realm is unbounded,
Its sea has no shore,

And there’s never a heart

 

 

 

   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
  
 
 
 
   
 
  
 
 
  
 

ermission of Root & Capy, Music Publishers, 67

 

But has “ room for one more.” (CHo.)

  

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

1

Oh, Barney Avourneen, I Will Let You In,

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

 

Oh, Barney avourneen, the sun it-is shining,

The storm has gone by, and the sky it is blue;
I sit all alone, and my heart is repining,

And sighing and thinking, dear Barney, of you.
Oh, never believe that. your love Pd be scorning,

A thousand kind welcomes be sure that you’]l win;
So come when you please, ir the gold of the morning,

And Barney avourneen, I will let you in.

So come when you please, etc.

Oh, why did you come, when you knew I'd besleeping,
And dreaming of you on that same blessed night ?
I waited all day, till the stars were a-peeping,
In hopes that your shadow would gladden my
sight ; :
I thought to myself you were courting some other,
And wept in my sleep at. the shame and the sin ;
Och ! love I am sure is a care and a bother;
But, Barney avourneen, I will let you in.
Och! love I am sure, ete.:

I sighed for your sake, when afar you were going,
Across the bleak hills, in the dark and the snow;
My sorrowful tears all the while they were flowing,
My heart it was with you each step that you'd go;
Oh, what would you say if your words I had-minded ?
My love Iam sure you'd be careless to win ;
So come when with sunlight—not whisky—you’re
blinded, d
And Barney, avourneen, I'll then let you in,
So come when with sunlight, ete.

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

   

 

 

62

 

Woman is Going to Vote.

Copied by permission of Roor & Capy, Music publishers, 67
Washington st., Chicago, owners of the copyright.
The better day brightly is dawning,

Dismayed is all error and sin ;
All hail to the beautifal morning,
Millenium ushering in.
Farewell to election corruptions,
Of which the whole world has ta’en note,
Let every man mind his own’ buttons,
For woman is going to vote.
CHORUS.
She lectures, and doctors, and preaches,
And notes the new cut of a coat;
She'll mend our political breaches,
And renovate all with her vote,

For ages the lords of creation

Have managed things all their own way ;
Law-makers, executives, judges,

Their genius has always had play.
Claiming ever to be democratic,

All species of caste they have smote ;
But won’t there be many wry faces,

When woman shall walk up to vote.

There'll have to be different arrangements,
Whénever election comes round ;
No chewing, nor smoking, nor swearing,
At the polls shall hereafter be found ;
Nor yet shall there be any drinking,
Nor betting, not even a groat,
And men will please take off their beavers,
When woman shall put in her vote. (CHo.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

63

 

 

 

We'll have the whole thing reconstructed,
It’s wrong from beginning to end;

We've cut, and we've made, and we've fitted,
Indeed, we all know how to mend; -*"

We've exercised far greater talents,
In keeping our husbands afloat ;

Come, Harry, Tom, Dick, mind the cradle,
We women are going to vate. (CHorus.)

 

Tapping at the Garden Gate.

Who’s that tapping at the garden gate ?
Tap, tap, tapping at the garden gate ?
Every night I’ve heard of Jate,

Somebody tapping at the garden gate.
What, you sly little puss, don’t, know !
Why do you blush and falter so?

What are you looking for under the chair ?
The tap, tap; tapping comes not from there,
Every night, about half-past eight,

There’s tap, tap, tapping at the garden gate.

Oh, you sly little ‘ Fox,” you know,
Fidgeting about until you go,

Dropped the sugar-spoon ! why there it lies,
Bless the girl, where are your eyes?

Were I able to leave my chair,

Soon would I find out who is there ;

Don’t tell me you think it’s a cat,

Cats don’t tap, tap, tap like that;

Cats don’t know when it’s half past eight,
And come tap, tapping at the garden gate.

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

64

She’s a Gal o’ Mine,

b SUNG IN BLACK-EYED SUSAN.
cop'sd by permission of Orrver Ditsoa & Co., Music Publish-
ers, 277 Washington st., Boston, owners of the copyright.
Listen, my boys, [ll tell you,
All about this dear gal o’ mine,
She’s my own Black-eyed Sue,
1s this gal 0’ mine ;
She dwells in a little.cot,
A cottage by the sea,
And though of lovers she has a score,
She never goes back on me.
CHORUS.
My dear boys, my dear boys,
She’s a gal o’ mine, she’s a galo’ mine;
My dear boys, my dear boys,
She’s'a gal o’ mine, my dear ‘boys.

 

When I am aloft or a-low,
I think only of this gal o’ mine;
She’s my best bower, I know,
Is: this gal o’ mine ;
No damsel is on anyshore
More angel-like than she,
And though of lovers she has a score,
She never went back on me.

 

 

 

 

 

 
    

   

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DIME BASE-BALL PLAYER FOR 1872,

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