Part 8

Reap we the oat harvest, Who will come and bind it? Ah, perhaps his darling, Treasure of his bosom. Where have I last seen her? Yesterday at evening, Yesterday at morning! When will she come hither, With her little household, With her gentle escort, People of her village? Who has not a partner, Let him pay a forfeit!

It is a remarkable fact that, even where this simple people have borrowed the dramatic idea of an amusement from their more civilized neighbors, they have developed it with a sweetness and grace which put the latter to shame.

No. 23.

_As We Go Round the Mulberry Bush._

As we go round the mulberry bush, The mulberry bush, the mulberry bush; As we go round the mulberry bush, So early in the morning.

This is the way we wash our clothes, All of a Monday morning.

This is the way we iron our clothes, All of a Tuesday morning.

This is the way we scrub our floor, All of a Wednesday morning.

This is the way we mend our clothes, All of a Thursday morning.

This is the way we sweep the house, All of a Friday morning.

This is the way we bake our bread, All of a Saturday morning.

This is the way we go to church, All of a Sunday morning.

In Massachusetts the song goes--

Here we go round the _barberry bush_, So early in the morning.

A variation makes the last line--

All on a frosty morning.

No. 24.

_Do, Do, Pity my Case._

Do, do, pity my case, In some lady's garden; My clothes to wash when I get home, In some lady's garden.

Do, do, pity my case, In some lady's garden; My clothes to iron when I get home, In some lady's garden.

And so on, the performers lamenting the duty which lies upon them of scrubbing their floors, baking their bread, etc.

_Louisiana._

This pretty dance, with its idiomatic English, which comes to us from the extreme South, is obviously not modern. The chorus refers, not to the place of the labor, but to the locality of the dance: it may have been originally _in my lady's garden_. Our informant remembers the game as danced by negro children, their scanty garments flying as the ring spun about the trunk of some large tree; but (though the naive appeal to pity may seem characteristic of Southern indolence) this is evidently no negro song.

No. 25.

_When I Was a Shoemaker._

A ROUND.

When I was a shoemaker, And a shoemaker was I, This way,[76] and this way, And this way went I.

When I was a gentleman, And a gentleman was I, This way, and this way, And this way went I.

When I was a lady, And a lady was I, This way, and this way, And this way went I.

So on, indefinitely. The gentleman places his hands in his waistcoat pockets, and promenades up and down; the lady gathers her skirts haughtily together; the fireman makes a sound in imitation of the horns which firemen formerly blew; the shoemaker and hair-dresser are represented by appropriate motions, etc.

_New York streets._

As with most street-games, further inquiry has shown us that the song is old in America. Not merely the substance (which is identical with our last two numbers), but also the expression, is paralleled in France and Italy, and even on the extreme limits of European Russia.

The well-known French name of this game "The Bridge of Avignon,"[77] indicates a high antiquity. This bridge, which figures in French nursery-lore as London Bridge does in our own, was built in 1177. Bridges, in the Middle Age, were the most important structures in the land, places of festivity and solemnity, dances, trials, and executions.

No. 26.

_Here We Come Gathering Nuts of May._

Two opposite rows of girls. One side advances and sings, the other side replying:

"Here we come gathering nuts of May, [_thrice_] On a May morning early."

"Whom will you gather for nuts of May, On a May morning early?"

"We'll gather [naming a girl] for nuts of May, On a May morning early."

"Whom will you send to fetch her away, On a May morning early?"

"We'll send [naming a strong girl] to pull her away, On a May morning early."

The game is continued until all players are brought to one side.

_Charlestown, W. Va._

This game is probably a recent importation from England, where it is very well known. It seems likely that the imitative dance really belongs to the season of nut-gathering,[78] and that the phrase, "Nuts of _May_," and the refrain, have crept in from its later use as a May-game.

No. 27.

_Here I Brew, and Here I Bake._

A ring of children clasp hands by clenching fingers; a single child within the circle repeats the rhyme, making appropriate gestures over successive pairs of hands; at the last words he (or she) throws himself (or herself) against what is thought the most penetrable point.

Here I brew and here I bake, And here I make my wedding-cake, And here I must break through.

The following is a different version:

Here I bake and here I brew, And here I lay my wedding-shoe, And here I must and shall break through.

If the first attempt is not successful, the player within the ring runs to attack some other point. After the ring is broken, the child on his right continues the game. In New York, a violent form of the same sport goes by the name of "Bull in the Ring."

No. 28.

_Draw a Bucket of Water._

Four girls cross hands, and pull in rhythmical movement against each other while singing, one pair changing the position of their hands from above to below that of the other pair at the words, "Here we go under," etc.

Draw a bucket of water For my lady's daughter. One in a rush, Two in a rush, Here we go under the mulberry bush.

_New York._

In Massachusetts this was a ring game:

Draw a pail of water For my lady's daughter. Give her a ring and a silver pin, And pay for my lady's pop under.

At the last words the girl within the ring endeavors to pass under the hands of one of the couples.

No. 29.

_Threading the Needle._

A boy and a girl, standing each on a stool, make an arch of their hands, under which an endless chain passes, until the hands are dropped, and one of the players is enclosed.

The needle's eve That doth supply The thread that runs so true; Ah! many a lass Have I let pass Because I wanted you.

Or--

The needle's eye You can't pass by, The thread it runs so true; It has caught many a seemly lass, And now it has caught you.

_Massachusetts._

In the following more complicated form of the game, in use half a century ago, both a boy and a girl were caught by the players who raised their arms:

The needle's eye None can surpass But those who travel through; It hath caught many a smiling lass, But now it hath caught you.

There's none so sweet That is dressed so neat;[79] I do intend, Before I end, To make this couple meet.

The pair then kissed, and the game proceeded as in "London Bridge," ending with a tug-of-war.

The name, "Threading the Needle," is still applied, in a district of central France, to a dance in which many hundred persons take part, in which from time to time the pair who form the head of the row raise their arms to allow the line to pass through, coiling and winding like a great serpent.

FOOTNOTES:

[70] An acquaintance says, that in the interior of New York State the men and girls stand in the row by sevens; an arrangement which she suggests may imitate the different colors of strands.

[71]

Oats, oats, oats, May the good God prosper you!

[72] These choruses, which may be paralleled from Great Britain, do not in themselves belong to any particular game.

[73] We find the same benevolent wish, under like circumstances, in a Swedish game. Is the correspondence accident or tradition?

[74]

Qui veut ouir, qui veut savoir, Comment on sème l'aveine? Mon père la sèmait ainsi, Puis il se reposait à demi; Frappe du pied, puis de la main, Un petit tour pour ton voisin; Aveine, aveine, aveine, Que le Bon Dieu t'amène!

[75] Fauriel supposed the present round to be derived from Massiliot Greeks; but he was unacquainted with its diffusion in Europe.

[76] Sung "_a this a way_."

[77]

Sur le Pont d'Avignon, Les messieurs font ça, Et puis encore ça.

Then come "les dames," "les cordonniers," etc.

In the corresponding Russian game, a single player mimics the walk of old men, priests, or the habits of any trade or person in the company.

[78]

Nous sommes à trois fillettes, Pour aller cueillir noisettes; Quand les noisettes sont cueillies, Nous sommes mises à danser.

[79] "We considered this a personal compliment. I remember we used to feel very much pleased--children are so sensitive!"--_Informant._

IV.

_HUMOR AND SATIRE._

_Andante._

Perrette est bien malade, En danger de mourir.

_Presto._

Son ami la va voire; Te laira' tu mourir?

_Andante._

Non, non, répondit-elle, Je ne veux pas mourir.

_Canadian Song._

No. 30.

_Soldier, Soldier, Will You Marry Me?_

_First voice._-- "Soldier, soldier, will you marry me, With a knapsack, fife, and drum?" "Oh no, my pretty maiden, I cannot marry you, For I have no coat to put on."

_Second voice._-- Then away she ran to the tailor's shop, As fast as legs could run; And bought him one of the very best, And the soldier put it on.

The question is then repeated, the soldier pleading his want of shoes gloves, etc., which the confiding fair procures, until at last--

"Soldier, soldier, will you marry me, With your knapsack, fife, and drum?" "Oh no, my pretty maiden, I cannot marry you, For I have--a good wife--at home!"

This piece and the following are more or less familiar as children's songs through the United States. Our version was sung by children of from five to eight years of age, and made a favorite amusement at the afternoon gatherings. When one couple had finished, another pair would begin, and so on for hours at a time. The object was to provide for the soldier the most varied wardrobe possible; while the maiden put the question with spirit, laying her hand on her heart, respecting which the prevailing opinion was that it was under the left arm.

No. 31.

_Quaker Courtship._

In this piece, two children (in costume or otherwise) impersonate a Quaker paying his addresses to a young lady of the world.

"Madam, I am come a-courting-- _Hum, hum, heigho hum!_ 'Tis for pleasure, not for sporting-- _Hum, hum, heigho hum!_"

"Sir, it suits me to retire, _Teedle link tum, teedle tum a tee_; You may sit and court the fire, _Teedle link tum, teedle tum a tee_."

"Madam, here's a ring worth forty shilling, Thou may'st have it if thou art willing."

"What care I for rings or money? I'll have a man who will call me honey."

"Madam, thou art tall and slender; Madam, I know thy heart is tender."

"Sir, I see you are a flatterer, And I never loved a Quaker."

"Must I give up my religion? Must I be a Presbyterian?"

"Cheer up, cheer up, loving brother, If you can't catch one fish, catch another."

_Hartford, Conn._

No. 32.

_Lazy Mary._

A mother and daughter in the centre of a ring, the daughter kneeling with closed eyes. Mother advances--

"Lazy Mary, will you get up, Will you get up, will you get up, Will you get up to-day?"

"What will you give me for my breakfast, If I get up, if I get up, If I get up to-day?"

The reply is, "A slice of bread and a cup of tea," whereon Mary answers, "No, mother, I won't get up," and responds similarly to the call to dinner; but for supper the mother offers "a nice young man with rosy cheeks," which is accepted with the words, "Yes, mother, I will get up," whereon the ring clap their hands. The round is familiar in New York streets. There is a corresponding English song, with a tragic ending.

No. 33.

_Whistle, Daughter, Whistle._

"Whistle, daughter, whistle, And I'll give you a sheep."

[_After an interval._] "Mother, I'm asleep."

"Whistle, daughter, whistle, And I'll give you a cow."

[_A faint attempt._] "Mother, I don't know how." "Whistle, daughter, whistle, And I'll give you a man."

[_A loud and clear whistle._] "Mother, now I can!"

_New York._

The subject of this and the preceding number has furnished endless mirth to popular poetry. The present song is ancient; for it is identical with a German, Flemish, and French round of the fifteenth or sixteenth century, in which a _nun_ (or monk) is tempted to _dance_ by similar offers. The spirit of the latter piece seems to be rather light-hearted ridicule than puritanic satire, and the allusion does not show that the piece is subsequent to the Reformation.

No. 34.

_There were Three Jolly Welshmen._

There were three jolly Welshmen, And I have heard them say, That they would go a-hunting Upon St. David's day-- _Look--a--there--now!_

They hunted, they hunted, And nothing could they find, But a woman in the road, And her they left behind-- _Look--a--there--now!_

One said it was a woman, The other said nay; One said it was an angel With the wings blowed away-- _Look--a--there--now!_

We have obtained only three verses of the song, which was a favorite with little children as they sat on the door-step of a summer's evening. Another version of the ancient jest comes to us as sung by college students:

(_Slow and mournful, in C minor._)

And so they went along, To see what they could see, And soon they saw a frog A-sitting under a tree. (_Recit._) So--they--did.

One said it was a frog, But the other said nay-- One said it was a canary-bird With the feathers blown away. (_Recit._) So--it--was.

And so they went along, To see what they could see, And soon they saw a barn A-standing by a tree.

One said it was a barn, But the other said nay, One said it was a meeting-house With the steeple blown away.

And so they went along, To see what they could see, And soon they saw an owl, A-sitting on a tree.

One said it was an owl, But the other said nay, One said it was the Evil One! And they all ran away.

No. 35.

_A Hallowe'en Rhyme._

A ROUND.

Oh, dear doctor, don't you cry! Your true love will come by-and-by.

If she comes all dressed in green, That's a sign she's to be seen.

If she comes all dressed in white, That's a sign she'll cry all night.

If she comes all dressed in gray, That's a sign that she's away.

If she comes all dressed in blue, That's a sign she'll marry you.

_New York._

A variation:

Oh, Miss Betsy, don't you cry! For your true love will come _by'm-bye_; When he comes he'll dress in blue-- Then he'll bring you, something new.

_Massachusetts._

These corrupt rhymes are only interesting as illustrating the permanence of Hallowe'en customs, even in America. The Scotch rhyme of Chambers goes--

This knot, this knot, this knot I knit, To see the thing I ne'er saw yet-- To see my love in his array, And what he walks in every day; And what his occupation be, This night I in my sleep may see. And if my love be clad in green, His love for me is well seen; And if my love be clad in gray, His love for me is far away; But if my love be clad in blue, His love for me is very true.

After repeating these words, the girl puts her knotted garter beneath her pillow, and sleeps on it, when her future husband will appear to her in a dream.

No. 36.

_The Doctor's Prescription._

A ROUND.

Oh, dear doctor, can you tell, What will make poor ---- well? She is sick and like to die, And that will make poor ---- cry.

A kiss was the prescription.

We insert this silly little round, chiefly because, according to Madame Celnart, a French equivalent was in favor, not with infants, but ladies and gentlemen in polite society, only half a century since. Our authority says:

"The master or the mistress of this round is called _doctor_. This doctor takes the arm of the person seated on his right, regards him or her with an eye of compassion, feels his pulse, and then gives his order, which everybody repeats, singing, 'Give me your arm that I may cure you, for you seem to me to look ill.'[80] Then, designating by a glance some person of the other sex, he says, 'Embrace monsieur (or madame) to cure you; it is an excellent remedy.' All the persons in the ring are submitted to this treatment, which the physician knows how to render piquant by the choice of the panacea which he recommends to his patient; when everybody is cured, the doctor passes over his science and dignity to the last person who has tested the efficacy of his prescription, and in his turn falls sick, to make trial of the pleasing remedy."

The general theme of our vulgarized round is more agreeably expressed in the quaint and ancient Canadian song which we have cited as the motto of the present chapter.

No. 37.

_Old Grimes._

Old Grimes is dead and in his grave laid, In his grave, in his grave, in his grave laid-- _O aye O!_

There grew up an apple-tree over his head-- The apples were ripe and ready to fall-- Then came an old woman a-picking them up-- Old Grimes got up and gave her a kick-- And made her go hobbledy, hobbledy, hip-- The bridles and saddles they hang on the shelf-- And if you want any more you must sing it yourself-- _O aye O!_

_New York streets._

A friend informs us that he has often heard the words of this unintelligible round sung as a "shanty," or song used by sailors at their work, with the chorus, _yeo heave-ho_! In Cambridge, Mass., the name of the deceased was "Old Cromwell." We have also a version of half a century since, beginning,

Jemmy and Nancy went up to Whitehall, Jemmy fell sick among them all.

No. 38.

_The Baptist Game._

Such is the peculiar title of this amusement in Virginia, where it is said to be enjoyed by pious people who will not dance. There is a row of couples, with an odd player at the head. At the sudden close of the song occurs a grand rush and change of partners.

Come, all ye young men, in your evil ways, And sow your wild oats in your youthful days; You shall be happy, You shall be happy, When you grow old.

The night is far spent, and the day's coming on, So give us your arm, and we'll jog along, You shall be happy, You shall be happy, When you grow old.

_Albemarle Co., Va._

This game, with verbal identity (save the title), was a few years since an amusement of well-bred girls in New York city. It has also been familiar in Massachusetts, with the exception of one line--

Come all ye _old maids_ in your sinful ways!

No. 39.

_Trials, Troubles, and Tribulations._

All participating are blindfolded, and, joining hands, march forward, singing--

Here we go through the Jewish nation, Trials, troubles, and tribulation.

The fun consists in bringing up against a door, or in causing a general downfall by tripping over some obstacle.

_New York._

No. 40.

_Happy is the Miller._

An odd number of players, of whom the one not paired stands in the centre of the ring. The others march in couples, each consisting of a girl and a boy, till the sudden end of the song, when each boy grasps the girl in front of him.

Happy is the miller, who lives by himself, All the bread and cheese he piles upon the shelf, One hand in the hopper, and the other in the bag, The wheel turns around, and he cries out, Grab!

_Western New York._

Another version:

Happy is the miller that lives in the mill; While the mill goes round, he works with a will; One hand in the hopper, and one in the bag, The mill goes around, and he cries out, Grab!

_Cincinnati._

The miller, whose pay used to be taken in a proportion of corn ground, was a common object of popular satire.

In Germany the mill-wheel, as it slowly revolves, is said to exclaim--

There is--a thief--in the mill!

Then, moving more quickly--

Who is he? who is he? who is he?

And at last answers very fast, and without pausing--

The miller! the miller! the miller!

"Round and Round, the Mill Goes Round," is mentioned as an English dance at the end of the seventeenth century. A song of "The Happy Miller" is printed in "Pills to Purge Melancholy" (1707), of which the first verse is--

How happy is the mortal that lives by his mill! That depends on his own, not on Fortune's wheel; By the sleight of his hand, and the strength of his back, How merrily his mill goes, clack, clack, clack!

This song was doubtless founded on the popular game; but the modern children's sport has preserved the idea, if not the elegance, of the old dance better than the printed words of a hundred and seventy years since. A variation of the same game is still familiar in Canada and Sweden.[81]

No. 41.

_The Miller of Gosport._

That the prejudice against the honesty of the miller was not confined to the Old World will appear from the following ballad:

There was an old miller in Gosport did dwell: He had three sons whom he loved full well; He called them to him, one--by--one, Saying, "My--life--is--al--most--done!"[82]

He called to him his eldest son, Saying, "My life is almost done, And if I to you the mill shall make, Pray, say what toll you mean to take?"

"Father," says he, "my name is Dick, And aout of each bushel I'll take one peck-- Of every bushel--that--I--grind, I'll take one peck to ease my mind."

"Thou foolish son," the old man said, "Thou hasn't but one half larnt thy trade! The mill to you I'll never give, For by such toll no man can thrive."

He called to him his second son, Saying, "My life is almost done, And if I to you the mill shall make, Pray, say what toll you mean to take?"

"Father," says he, "my name is Ralph, And aout of each bushel I'll take one half-- Of every bushel that I grind, I'll take one half to ease my mind."

"Thou foolish son," the old man said, "Thou hasn't but one half larnt thy trade; The mill to you I'll never give, For by such toll no man can thrive."

He called to him his youngest son, Saying, "My life is almost done; And if I to you the mill shall make, Pray, say what toll you mean to take?"

"Father," says he, "I _am_ your boy, And in taking of toll shall be all my joy; That an honest living I ne'er may lack, I'll take the whole, and steal the sack."

"Thou _art_ my son," the old man said; "Thou'st larnt thy good--old--fayther's trade; The mill to you I do--betide"-- And--so--he--closed--his eyes--and--died.

Another version finds its way to us from the West, and ends with an uncomplimentary opinion as to the habitation of the miller in the other world.

FOOTNOTES:

[80]

Donne-moi ton bras que je te guérisse, Car tu m'as l'air malade, Loula, Car tu m'as l'air malade!