21 Nov

Learning McFadden to Waltz

Clarence McFadden he wanted to waltz,
But his feet were not gaited that way,
So he saw a professor and stated his case,
And said he was willing to pay;
The professor looked down in alarm at his feet,
And he viewed their enormous expanse,
So he tucked on a five to his regular price,
For learning McFadden to dance.

One, two, three, just balance like me,
You’re quite a fairy, but you have your faults,
While your left foot is lazy, your right foot is crazy,
Now don’t be unaisy, I’ll learn you to waltz.

He took out McFadden before the whole class,
And he showed him the step once or twice,
But McFadden’s two feet they got tied in a knot,
Sure he thought he was standing on ice;
At last he got loose and struck out with a will,
Never looking behind or before,
But his head got so dizzy, he fell on his face,
And chewed all the wax off the floor.

When Clarence had practiced the step for awhile,
Sure, he thought he had got it down fine,
He went to a girl and asked her to dance,
And he wheeled her out into line;
He walked on her feet and he fractured her toes,
And vowed that her movements were false,
Poor girl went around for two weeks on a crutch,
For learning McFadden to waltz.

McFadden soon got the step into his head,
But it would not go into his feet,
He hummed “Maggie Murphy” from morning to night,
And he counted his steps on the street;
One night he went home to his room to retire,
After painting the town a bright red,
He dreamed he was waltzing and let out his leg,
And kicked the footboards off the bed.

Song collector Margaret MacArthur extended the amazing work of Helen Flanders with her collecting work in Vermont in the 1960s. I came upon this Irish music hall gem in amongst the digitized MacArthur recordings available through the Vermont Folklife Center. She recorded it from Winfred Landman of Brattleboro in 1963. Another more complete version (without its melody) appears in Ballads and Songs of Southern Michigan from the singing of Mrs. John Lambertson of Belding, Michigan just northeast of Grand Rapids who sang it for collectors Gardner and Chickering in 1931.

The earliest printing of the music hall original from 1890 lists M.F. Carey as its composer and is viewable online through the New York Public Library digital collection. In addition to entering into folk tradition, the song was recorded by several artists and was even sung by child star Shirley Temple in the 1939 film Susannah and the Mounties as she tries to teach a mountie to dance with a book balanced on his head!

My transcription above is a blend of the Lambertson text, the original song sheet and a rousing recording of Irish entertainer Patrick Kavanagh (no relation to the author?) who recorded it on a 78rpm record in the 30s.

21 Nov

The Peelers of Ballinamore

Oh Tim Daly’s* me name, from Leinster I came,
To the sweet County Leitrim my fortune to try,
To earn a living by cheerfully singing,
The praises of Erin and will ’til I die,
I was always as willing for to spend a shilling,
As any man living ’round the Irish shore,
And I ne’er was molested by police or peelers,
Until I arrived in Ballinamore.

Ta lara-lol lolda-dol lolda-dol lolda-dol
Tara-lol lolda-dol lolda-dol day

It happened one evening when market was over,
‘Twas into an alehouse I chanced for to pop,
I rapped on the counter and called for the waiter,
To bring me a glass of the best in the shop,
She showed me a room where there was a large table,
I called for good liquor and drank it galore,
And I cared not a damn for those poor pimping peelers,
That watched all the topers of Ballinamore.

That evening I spent with no cause to repent,
While drinking of liquor that was pure and strong,
And whenever the waiter she chanced to delay me,
I kept myself cheered by the verse of a song.

Oh, they marched me along by the verse of my song,
And it’s in prison strong they did me secure,
I had nothing to cheer me, no friend to come near me,
I lay like a dog with a wisp on the floor,
I lay myself down for to take a slumber,
But when I awoke sure me sides they were sore,
Which cause me to curse John Briggs and his lodgings,
And likewise the peelers of Ballinamore.

’Twas early next morning John Briggs gave me warning,
That I must be ready at the hour of ten,
And I should appear before Mr. Broder,
He got the directions from a policeman,
The sergeant he come with two or three others,
They marched me a prisoner straightway through the town,
And you’d think I had killed all their fathers and mothers,
And fought to overturn the crown.

Long life to the chief, he did liberate me,
To hold me for drinking they thought it not fair,
Since peelers and parsons and preachers and doctors,
They all take a drop to banish dull care,
Now while I’m serenading ’round this Irish nation
Each alehouse and tavern I chance for to roar,
And I’ll toast to the members of those lads and the lassies,
That dance ’round the borders of Ballinamore.

____
In 2003, singer and scholar Dan Milner produced a great CD titled Irish Songs from Old New England (Folk-Legacy Records) that featured 14 different singers doing Irish songs found in the Flanders Ballad collection. I highly recommend this recording to anyone interested in the Irish influence in the woods song tradition! (you might have to search Ebay or Amazon for a used copy unfortunately)

On that CD, the great County Antrim singer Len Graham does this very rare broadside-type ballad “The Peelers of Ballinamore.” The source singer for the song was J. J. Downs of West Peru, New York who sang the song for the Flanders collection in 1944. Downs said he learned it from an uncle who came from Ireland. Peru, NY is on the western shore of Lake Champlain in far northern New York state. The above transcription is my own from the Downs recording which you can find on archive.org.

“Peeler” was once a common slang term for a police constable. The term originated with Sir Robert Peel who established the Metropolitan Police in London in the 1829. The notes to Irish Songs from Old New England tell us that a “toper” is equivalent to a tippler (a habitual drinker of alcohol).

*The name at the start of the song is inaudible in the Flanders recording but Len Graham sings “Tim Daly.” I’m not sure if Len added that detail of if perhaps a manuscript version was written down by Flanders with the name in place.

20 Nov

The Three Hunters

Three men they went a-hunting, a-hunting went one day,
’Til they came to a monkey, as they were on their way.
Says the Englishman “A monkey!”
“Oh no,” says Scot, “Oh nay!”
Says Paddy, “That’s your grandfather and his hair is turning gray”

Look-a there, O there! Whack fol the day,
Look-a there. O there! Whack fol duh diddle-oh day.

Three men they went a hunting, a hunting went one day,
’Til they came to a haystack, as they were on their way.
Says the Englishman “A haystack!”
“Oh no,” says Scot, “Oh nay!”
Says Paddy, “That’s a Protestant church and the steeple is blowed away,”

Look-a there…

Three men they went a-hunting, a-hunting went one day,
’Til they came to a hedgehog, as they were on their way.
Says the Englishman “A hedgehog!”
“Oh no,” says Scot, “Oh nay!”
Says Paddy, “That’s a pincushion with the pins stuck in the wrong way”

Look-a there…

Paul Lorette of Manchester Center, Vermont told collector Helen Hartness Flanders that he learned this song in a lumber camp in East Wallingford, Vermont. He sang it for Flanders’ recording machine in April 1931 and that recording is now available via archive.org.

Songs based on the meeting of an Irishman, Scotsman and Englishman and their contrasting reactions to events (not unlike the many jokes built on that scenario) seem to have been popular throughout the North American woods. Like “The Three Nations” from Minnesota (Northwoods Songs #41) and “The Three Dreams” from New Brunswick (Northwoods Songs #99), Paddy gets the last word here.

This particular song is traced by folklorists all the way back to the 1600s where a version even appeared in the play The Two Noble Kinsmen co-authored by John Fletcher and William Shakespeare. Early versions (and a variant found in Eau Claire, Wisconsin in the 1920s by Franz Rickaby) don’t associate the three men with different ethnicities. Another Irishmen/Scotsman/Englishman version was collected in County Wicklow by Hugh Sheilds in 1960.  Flanders, in her book The New Green Mountain Songster, recalls hearing it sung “in Boston by an Irish youth in July, 1911. The singer was entertaining a group of professional ballplayers; after smoking six cigarettes at once, he burst into the song… He sang in so rapid a tempo that it was impossible to take down words or music.” The above transcription is my own based on the Lorette recording.