PART II. DIGGING-SINGS.

The Negroes when they get together never stop chattering and laughing. They have a keen sense of the ludicrous, and give a funny turn to their stories as they relate the common incidents of daily life. The doings of their neighbours form the chief topic of conversation here as in most places, and any local event of special importance is told over and over. Presently, after repeated telling, the story, or part of it, is set to one of their dance tunes, and tune and words henceforth belong to one another. This is the origin of the songs which follow. With the explanatory notes attached to them it is hoped that they will afford some insight into the peasant life of Jamaica.

The tunes fall into two main divisions, "dancing-tunes" and "digging-sings," and besides the formal dances, whose steps are thoroughly known, there is an informal kind called "playing in de ring." It may be described as dancing mixed with horse-play. It was in this kind of romping that Parson Puss took part in the Annancy story (No. XXIX.), and perhaps it was hardly the thing for the cloth! Ring tunes begin anywhere and anyhow, and do not necessarily conform to the eight-bar rhythm of the more regular dance tunes.

To the other class of songs belong the "digging-sings" used, together with rum, as an accompaniment to field labour. In March it is time to think of getting the land ready for planting. So, having rented a piece of hillside from a neighbour, if he has none of his own, the Jamaican begins to clear the ground. The biggest of the trees fall to the axe, and the brushwood, or bush, as it is called, is chopped down with the cutlass, a few rod-like saplings being left here and there to serve as supports for the yams, which will by and by climb them like hops. After a few days' exposure to the sun, he burns all the top and lop that lies on the ground, which is then ready for digging. He now calls in some of his friends to help him dig yam-hills--so the phrase runs. What they dig is, of course, holes, to begin with. The loose soil is then piled up into small mounds in which the yam heads will be placed. The object of the mound is to enable the proprietor to see easily at any time how the tuber is getting on, by just "gravelling" it with his hand. As the hills are being dug, the rum bottle circulates, and the digging-sings, which began quietly enough, get more and more lively. The Negro is cheery at all times, but when well primed with liquor he is hilarious. Nothing more joyous can be imagined than a good "digging-sing" from twenty throats, with the pickers--so they call their pickaxes--falling in regular beat. The pickers work faster and faster to the strains of a rousing "Oh, Samwel, oh!" or "The one shirt I have ratta cut ahm." One man starts or "raises" the tune and the others come in with the "bobbin," the short refrain of one or two words which does duty for chorus. The chief singer is usually the wag of the party, and his improvised sallies are greeted with laughter and an occasional "hi," which begins on a falsetto note and slides downwards, expressing amusement and delight very plainly.

LII.

Here is a specimen:--

[Music:

Oh Miss Nancy Ray, Oh hurrah boys! Oh Miss Nancy Ray, Oh hurrah boys! Nancy Banana da broke man heart, Oh hurrah boys! Nancy Banana da broke man heart, Oh hurrah boys! Oh Miss Nancy Ray, Oh hurrah boys! Oh Miss Nancy Ray, Oh hurrah boys!]

The bobbin is "Oh hurrah boys!" and a good swinging one it is. If the bobbin is well taken up each sing lasts for about five minutes, and the raiser of the tune prides himself on the number of "turnings" or slight variations he can give it. He also improvises words as he goes on. Such a sally as changing Miss Ray's name to Banana would be met with laughter when it was first heard.

("Da broke man heart" means "has broken a man's heart")

LIII.

The next example is a type of many of the sings. It turns on a piece of local gossip. The "at last" is significant and points to Catherine being an old offender. The proffered sympathy is hardly sincere.

[Music:

Ho biddybye, biddybye me yerry the talk biddybye, say Cat'rine gone a prison biddybye poor me Cat'rine oh biddybye Cat'rine gone at last biddybye.]

Here is the story in plain English, "deep English" as the Negro calls it, not understanding it well:--"Oh by the bye I hear a report that Catherine has gone to prison. My poor Catherine!"

(For "say" read "which says." "Biddybye" is the bobbin.)

LIV.

We come now to one which refers to labouring life:--

[Music:

Tell Mister Linky me want go, hm! hm! oh Benjiman! Barrarap Barrarap Barrarap me Benjiman oh Benjiman!]

The men are in the field watching the sun which is getting low. They begin to think the head-man, Mr. Linky, is forgetting how time goes. He should be giving the signal to "knock off work." So one of the gang, meaning Mr. Linky to hear, says to his neighbour:--"Benjamin, tell Mr. Linky I want to go." "Hm, hm!" with closed lips, means a great deal. It is a sort of good-natured remonstrance. Always _Benjiman_ for Benjamin and the _Barraraps_ culminate in a sharp final staccato _rap_. This has a longer bobbin "Oh Benjiman!"

LV.

The next might easily be mistaken for something of the same sort:--

[Music:

Tell Mister Bell me go plant coco, Tell Mister Bell me go plant coco, Tell Mister Bell me go plant coco, fuppence a quart fe flour! Flour Flour Flour Flour! fuppence a quart fe flour!]

Mr. Bell is, however, the keeper of a country shop. "Tell Mr. Bell I am going to plant cocoes. Threepence a quart for shop flour! No, it's too much expense." ("Too much expense" is a favourite phrase.)

The accent which the music gives to the word _coco_ is not the right one. It should be on the first syllable.

"Fuppence" is fivepence, but means threepence. This is the survival of an old coinage in which sixpence was called tenpence. The _u_ in "fuppence" is an Italian _u_ with a turn towards an open _o_. It sounds more like fourpence than fippence.

"Plant coco" is the bobbin, but a gang who were inspired not to leave too much to the raiser of the tune, would take upon themselves to add "Fuppence a quart fe flour." ("Fe," sounded "fy," with short _y_ as in "very.")

LVI.

The next has again a well-defined bobbin in "nyam an' cry," and hereafter no reference will be made to this feature, which by now must be thoroughly understood. Where it appears to be wanting, the whole sing is sung in chorus.

[Music:

Bad homan oh! bad homan oh! nyam an' cry, me coco no ripe, nyam an' cry, me hafoo no ripe, nyam an' cry.]

The man is "working his provision ground," and his wife is always saying she has not got enough to eat. She is a bad woman, who does nothing but "nyam an' cry," eat and call for more, and my cocoes are not ready to dig and my Afoo (Italian _a_, ahfoo) yam is not ready either. (There are as many different kinds of yams as there are of potatoes.)

LVII.

Continuing with subjects connected with field-work, we come now to a sing which must have originated in old slavery days, when ringing a bell was the signal for beginning and knocking-off work:--

[Music:

Bell oh, Bell oh, Bell a ring a yard oh! oh Degay, Bell a ring a yard oh! Baboon roll de drum oh, Monkey rub de fiddle, oh Bell a ring a yard oh!]

The bell is ringing up at the house, says one of the slaves to Degay the head-man, and we want our breakfast; and another, seeing Degay look cross at anybody presuming to make suggestions to him, tries to make him laugh with the piece of nonsense that follows. We shall meet with Degay or Deggy, for there is some doubt about his name, again. It will be thought that either the word Baboon is misplaced or the barring is wrong, but it is not so. The negro is careless of accent, as of many things. Here he likes to have it on the first syllable, which he lengthens to "bah." "Rubbing" a fiddle conveys the exact idea of the way they play it. Holding it not up to the chin but resting on the biceps, they rub a short bow backwards and forwards across the strings. If one of these is tuned it is considered quite satisfactory, and the rest make a sort of mild bagpipe accompaniment. Time is no object.

("Bell a ring" may mean either "The bell is ringing" or "The bell has rung." "A yard," in the yard. The immediate surroundings of the house are called the yard. They seldom speak of going to a friend's house. They say they are going to his yard.)

LVIII.

Breakfast is at twelve o'clock, and after a short rest work goes on again. A shower starts a new train of thought:--

[Music:

The one shirt I have ratta cut ahm, Same place him patch ratta cut ahm, Rain, rain oh! Rain, rain oh! Rain, rain oh fall down an' wet me up.]

"The rats have cut my only shirt with their teeth. I put in a patch and they bit it through again in the same place, so when the rain came down it made me very wet."

(The broad "ahm" (for him, it), is more used now by the Coolies than the Negroes. "Ratta" is both singular and plural. When I first heard the word I thought it referred to a terrier. "Same place him patch"--in the same place where it was patched, just where it was patched.)

LIX.

The kindly sun comes out, the shirts are dry, and an amorous youth, with that absence of self-consciousness which is characteristic of the race, begins:--

[Music:

Jessie cut him yoke suit me, Jessie cut him yoke suit me, So-so wahk him wahk suit me, Jessie cut him yoke suit me, oh suit me, oh suit me, oh suit me, Jessie cut him yoke suit me.]

Broadly this means:--"all that Jessie does is right in my eyes. She dresses perfectly, but it is enough for me to see her walk to adore her. Jessie cuts her yoke"--technical term of modistes and tailors I am told--"to suit my taste."

("So-so walk him walk," is literally:--"the mere walk that she walks with suits me." They are fond of this repetition of a word, first as noun and then as verb. Thus they will say:--Me like the play him play:--It sweet me to see the dance him dance:--The talk him talk was foolishness:--The ride him ride, him boast about it.)

LX.

"Three acres of Coffee" which follows, is more interesting musically.

[Music:

T'ree acre of Cahffee, Four acre of bare lan', T'ree acre of Cahffee, Why you no come come ask fe me? Mumma ho me love the man, Mumma ho me love the man, Mumma ho me love the man, Why you no come come ask fe me?]

The boy has been telling the girl of his worldly possessions, but has not made any offer of marriage. She is thinking it all over. "So you have got three acres of coffee and four acres of bare land, then why don't you come and ask for me?"

"Bare" land is good land which has not yet been taken into cultivation. The first money a poor boy earns he spends in boots, which are the outward and visible sign of being well-to-do. They hurt him, "burn him" as he says, but no matter. Next he buys a piece of land. This is probably in bush, covered that is with the rough growth of grass, bushes and trees that so quickly springs up in the tropics. He clears and plants it piece by piece, as opportunity offers and inclination suggests.

LXI.

They are clever at inventing nonsense words to run easily off the tongue. For instance:--

[Music:

Away, away oui oui Madame. I never see the sight of Robart, I never see the sight of F'edrick, Ding dogaraggaway, Ding dogaraggaway, Ding dogaraggaway, Ding dong.]

("Away" is clearly a corruption of _oui oui_.)

LXII.

They like to complain of their little ailments, as thus:

[Music:

Wednesday morning before day, Wednesday morning before day, Wednesday morning before day, me ma'am, me feel me head a hurt me.]

If a man happens to hurt himself, he sends or brings the most exaggerated account of the accident. If it is a cut on the hand, he "nearly chop him hand off." If there is a trickle of blood, "the whole place running in blood." In my early days in Jamaica my boy Robert came rushing up with gestures expressing the utmost consternation, and gasped out "Rufus hang!" Rufus was the pony. "He dead?" I asked. "'Tiff dead!" was the reply. We were doing a piece of important planting in the garden, and I said "Well! as he's dead there's nothing to be done, and we'll go on with this job." Two or three hours later, to my surprise, I saw Robert carrying grass towards the stable. "What are you doing with the grass, Robert?"

"It for Rufus."

"But Rufus dead."

"No! he don't dead again," which meant that he was still alive. When I went to see, I found him rather exhausted with his struggling--he had fallen on the hillside and got entangled in the rope--but not very bad, and by next day he had quite recovered.

This kind of exaggeration enters into all their talk. Once, travelling in a tram-car, there was a slight accident. The car just touched the shaft of a passing carriage and broke it. One man said to his neighbour, "See dat? de buggy 'mash to pieces."

"All gone to snuff," replied the other.

LXIII.

Here are two different versions of the same sing. The chord of the seventh held on by the voices sounds well.

[Music:

Oh Samwel oh! Oh Samwel oh! Oh Samwel oh! Oh Samwel oh! Samwel, the lie you tell 'pon me turn whole house a me door.]

(They never tell lies _about_ people here, but always _upon_ people. "Turn whole house a me door," turns the whole house out of doors, upside down as we should say.)

LXIV.

[Music:

Oh 'liza oh! Oh 'liza oh! Oh 'liza oh! Oh 'liza oh! 'liza 'pread you coat make I lie down de under the Bushatahl.]

"Coat" is petticoat. I am told that 'liza could take off a petticoat and still be quite properly dressed.

"Make I lie down," etc., _i.e._, let me lie down under the Butcher's Stall. This is the name of a precipice just below my house. Horses have several times fallen over it and been killed. They then become butcher's meat for the John Crows, the vulture-like birds which are so useful as scavengers.

LXV.

We do not get many songs of the American plantation type like the following:--

[Music:

Aunty Mary oh! Aunty Mary oh! Aunty Mary oh! Aunty Mary oh! Aunty Mary oh! Aunty Mary oh! Aunty Mary Thomas, O meet me a cross road.]

(Cross roads are always a favourite place of meeting, and a rum shop is generally to be found there.)

This is a monotonous form, and I am glad the musical bent of our people turns in another direction.

LXVI.

See how superior this truly Jamaican form is:--

[Music:

Oh! me yerry news, me yerry, Oh! me yerry news, me yerry, Married homan a pull him ring me yerry Him put ahm a wine-glass me yerry Oh! me yerry news me yerry.]

Local scandal again. "I hear news; a married woman has pulled off her wedding ring and put it in a wine-glass," the first convenient receptacle she saw.

LXVII.

It was some time before an explanation was forthcoming for the next:

[Music:

Jes' so me barn, jes' so me barn, you can weary long boot, jes' so me barn.]

The words mean:--"I was born just so; you can wear long boots, boots that come high up the leg." A girl, who has not money enough to buy boots, is envious of a companion who is wearing them. She says:--"I was born, just as you were, poor. Yet you have got long boots, while I must put up with 'bulldogs,' rope-soled slippers. Where did you get the money to pay for your boots? Did you tief it, or what?"

LXVIII.

In the example that follows, a girl has been left to look after her little brother, and somebody reports that she has been "ill-treating," _i.e._ beating him. So the message is sent back:--

[Music:

Tell Mary say, no do Johnny so. Oh! Tell Mary say, no do Johnny so.]

"Tell Mary she is not to do Johnny so." "To do a person something" is to do them an injury. "He so crahss" (cross), a boy will say of his master, "and I done him nothing," or "I never do him one def ting," a single thing. "Def" is emphatic, but is not a "swear-word."

"Say" is often added in places where it is not at all wanted. It occurs again in:--

LXIX.

[Music:

Me tell them gal a Portlan' Gap Min' Dallas man oh! me amber he! me amber he! me amber ho! tell them say.]

"I tell the girls at Portland Gap 'Mind Dallas men.'" Portland Gap is in the Blue Mountains; Dallas in the Port Royal Mountains between the Blue Mountains and the sea.

(The exclamatory "he" has the Italian vowel, hard for some English ears to catch. It is nearly but not quite "hay.")

The significance of "amber" is lost. This word occurs again in the pleasant flowing melody which stands next, and the boy who gave it me explained its meaning quite correctly, saying it "stood for yellow."

LXX.

[Music:

Gold oh! Gold oh! Gold amber gold oh! Gold de a me yard oh! Gold amber gold oh! Sell doubloon a joint oh! Gold amber gold oh! fe me gold a sunlight gold! Gold amber gold oh! fe me gold no copper gold! Gold amber gold oh!]

"Gold is in my yard," perhaps buried, but also perhaps in the house, yard often including it. "My gold is sunlight gold, none of your rascally copper stuff."

The doubloon is a large gold piece worth sixty-four shillings. It has long been out of use and few people in Jamaica have seen one.

("Fe me," for me, often does duty for "my." "This a fe me hoe," this is my hoe; "take fe you panicle," take your panicle, the tin mug out of which the morning sugar-water is drunk.)

LXXI.

No. 71, "Gee oh John Tom" is a brisk and vigorous sing till it gets to "a me lassie gone" where the little tinge of sadness is given by simple means, again the right thing in the right place, good art.

[Music:

Gee oh Mother Mac, Gee oh John Tom; Gee oh Mother Mac, Gee oh John Tom; a me lassie gone, Gee oh John Tom.]

LXXII.

Here is something very short:--

[Music:

Oh Oh Leah married a Tuesday.]

On asking if that was all, Levi, the contributor, said:--"It no have no more corner," it hasn't any more corners, or "turnings" as they generally say, what we call variations. Levi likes to cut everything short and rattle it through with lightning speed. He it was who gave me that little gem of an Annancy story about the rats and their trousers (No. XI.), and this is his:--

LXXIII.

[Music:

Cheer me oh! Cheer me oh! Cheer me oh! My will fight fe you.]

LXXIV.

In imitating animals the negro is clever. He moos like a cow, grunts like a pig, whinnies like a horse, besides the minor accomplishments of miauling and barking. Even trammelled by music this cock's crow is good:--

[Music:

Me cock a crow coocoorico, before day him a crow coocoorico, him a crow fe me wake coocoorico.]

(Sound the _i_ short as in rich.)

LXXV.

Now we come to a tragedy. Selina is drowned, and they sing smoothly and flowingly:--

[Music:

Oh Selina! Oh Selina! John Crow de a river side a call fe Selina! Oh poor Selina! Duppy an' all a call fe Selina! Oh poor Selina.]

Everybody in Jamaica believes in Duppy, and many women and children will not go out at night for fear of meeting one.

A man, they say, has two spirits, one from God and the other not from God. The one from God is good, and the one not from God may be either good or bad. During sleep, these spirits leave the body and go to other people's houses in search of food. Being shadows themselves, they feed on the shadow of food and on the smell of food. They are seldom far apart, and the heavenly spirit can always prevent the earthly spirit from doing harm. At death the God-given spirit flies up upon a tree, and goes to heaven the third day. The other spirit remains on earth as Duppy. Its abiding place is the grave of the dead man, but it wanders about at night as it did when he was alive. A good Duppy will watch over and protect the living. A bad Duppy tries to frighten and harm people, which it is able to do now that it has lost the restraining influence of its former companion, the heavenly spirit. It can assume any sort of shape, appearing sometimes as a man, sometimes as an animal. If it is a very bad Duppy, it makes the place where it is unbearably hot. The Negro believes that he can put a bad Duppy upon another person.[48] He proceeds as follows:--Going to the grave at midnight, he scoops a small hollow in the ground and puts in some rice, sprinkling it with sugar-water, a mixture of water and moist cane-sugar. He then directs Duppy to visit the person whose name he mentions, and goes away without looking behind him. The person on whom Duppy is put becomes "tearing mad," and it requires a ten-pound fee to "take the shadow off." How to do this is the Obeah-man's secret. A Duppy of one's own family is worse than a stranger's, and the "baddest" of all is Coolie Duppy. One of the most dreaded Duppies is "Rolling (_i.e._ roaring) Calf." It goes about making a hideous noise, and clanking a chain. "If Rolling Calf catch you, give you one lick, you dead." Your only chance is to run, and you must keep on "cutting ten" (making the sign of the cross), and the pursuing monster has to go round that place ten times. "Shop-keeper and butcher," so goes local tradition, "tief too much (rob their customers very much) and when they dead they turn Rolling Calf."

[Footnote 48: [Cf. Miss Kingsley, _The Fetish View of the Human Soul_, in _Folk-Lore_, vol. viii., p. 138; also R.E. Dennett, _Bavili Notes_, _ibid._, vol. xvi., p. 371.]]

Those who are born with a caul can see Duppy. So can those who rub their faces with the rheum from the eye of a horse or dog, and those who cut their eyelashes. Every Duppy walks two feet above the ground, floating in the air. If a child is not christened before it is six months old, Duppy will carry it away into the bush. To avoid this, a Bible and pair of scissors are laid on the child's pillow. The scissors are a protection, owing to their cross-like form.

Such are the main beliefs with regard to this remarkable superstition of Duppy on earth.[49]

[Footnote 49: [See _Folk-Lore of the Negroes of Jamaica_, in _Folk-Lore_, vol. xv., pp. 87, 206, 450, and vol. xvi., p. 68.]]

This, however, is not all. At the day of judgment the two spirits will be reunited to the body, and in many cases the God-given spirit will go to hell after all. I often ask my boys which of these three is themselves? Is it the body? Is it the heavenly spirit? Is it the earthly spirit? But they do not understand the question and have no sort of reply. When I ask if it is not hard that the heavenly spirit after its sojourn in heaven should go to hell, they laugh.

LXXVI.

Leaving the religious, we come now to, what Jamaica considers more important, the colour question:--

[Music:

Sambo lady ho! Sambo, Sambo lady ho! Sambo, Sambo no like black man, Sambo, Sambo want white man, Sambo, Sambo no get white man, Sambo, Sambo no want man again, Sambo, Sambo lady oh! Sambo.]

A Sambo is the child of a brown mother and a black father, brown being a cross between black and white. The Sambo lady, very proud of the strain of white in her blood, turns up her nose at the black man. She wants a white man for a husband. Failing to find one, she will not marry at all.

LXXVII.

"Oh John Thomas!" is a favourite digging-sing at Goatridge, twenty-two miles from Kingston:--

[Music:

Oh! John Thomas, Oh! John Thomas, Oh! John Thomas, Oh! John Thomas, We all a combolow, John Thomas, Me go da 'leven mile, John Thomas, Me see one gal me love, John Thomas, Me court her all the way, John Thomas, Me come a Bangheson, John Thomas, Me buy one quattie bread, John Thomas, Me part it right in two, John Thomas, Me give her the biggest piece, John Thomas, and a warra more you want, John Thomas?]

"Combolow" is comrade oh!

"Da 'leven mile," to Eleven-miles, the halfway halting place between Goatridge and Kingston.

When he gets to Bangheson's shop he buys a quattie (pronounce quotty, penny halfpenny, quarter of sixpence) loaf, and what more do you want, John Thomas?

The quattie bread weighs eight ounces only. It is therefore a dear and much esteemed luxury.

LXXVIII.

Sambo, that we had just now, is the shortest of bobbins. Here we have a long one of four bars.

[Music:

Whe mumma de? Whe mumma de oh? Come go da 'tation, you see mumma de; Him take half a day, him a work seven dollar, Come go da 'tation you see mumma de.]

Mamma has got into trouble, owing to a failing unhappily too common in Jamaica, inability to distinguish between what is mine and what is yours. Her pay for half a day was a "bit" (fourpence halfpenny) and she has managed to "work" (sarcastic use of the word, for it means to get by working) seven dollars--twenty-eight shillings--and has been taken to the police station.

"Whe mumma de," literally, "where mamma is?" This has been already noted as the usual form of question. The vowel in whe, de, is the French _e_. We have the sound in English in the words, _debt_, _west_ and many others, but we always make it very short, and when it is lengthened, as it should be here, it generally changes in English mouths to the _a_ of _date_, _waste_, which is wrong.

The C sharp on the word "de" is peculiar and striking.

The second "de" stands for "there."

LXXIX.

There is something pleasantly simple and naive about the planting-sing:--

[Music:

Toady, Toady, min' you'self, min' you'self make I plant me corn; plant me corn fe go plant me peas, plant me peas fe go court me gal, court me gal fe go show mumma, mumma de one a go tell me yes, puppa de one a go tell me no; Toady, Toady, min' you'self, min' you'self make I plant me corn.]

"Mind yourself, little Toad, let me plant my corn." So sings the boy as he brings down his digger with a forcible thrust. The digger has been described as an earth-chisel, and a very good description it is. It makes a long slit in the ground into which the maize grains or peas are dropped. Maize is always known as "corn." Peas, which are also called Red Peas, are the "beans" of America, familiar at home under the name of French beans. We eat them not only green in the usual way, but also make excellent soup of the dried ripe beans. The boy is thinking of the reward of his labour. "I am planting my corn. Some will be eaten green, some left to ripen. That will be sold. Then I shall buy peas, plant them, and when they are ready for market get sixpence a quart for them, if I am lucky. Then I shall be rich enough to walk with a girl. I shall pick out a nice one that mamma will approve of. She will be the one to say 'yes, me son,' but puppa always crabbed, and him going to tell me no bodder with it, gal too much expense."

LXXX.

When known details run dry, the following gives full play to the inventive faculty:--

[Music:

Me know the man oh! know the man, Name John Watson, know the man; him come from Bread Lane, know the man; him ride one grey mule, know the man; the mule name Vic oh! know the man; him have one tumpa toe, know the man; him come a Mister Thomson, know the man, fe go sell him grey mule, know the man; he no make no sale oh! know the man, me know the man, know the man.[50]]

[Footnote 50: "The" always tends to the pronunciation "de," but it has not been thought advisable to write it so as this might render it liable to confusion with "de," meaning "is," with its differently sounded vowel. Moreover, it is not quite a true _d_, but has a pretty lisping sound intermediate between _th_ and _d_.]

Other bars of this air have an inclination to 2/4 time besides those indicated.

It will be observed that repeat marks have only been put to the first sing. It was not considered necessary to continue them. The various "turnings" of the tunes may be put in any order. The negroes themselves never put them twice in the same sequence.

LXXXI.

[Music:

Minnie, Minnie, me los' me boar; Minnie, Minnie, me los' me boar; Minnie, Minnie, him a broke-foot boar; Minnie, Minnie, me los' me boar; Minnie, Minnie, and a blind-eye boar; Minnie, Minnie, go find you boar, Minnie, Minnie.]

"I have lost my boar, Minnie. He's a broken-legged boar and has got a blind eye," and so on through all the defects or excellences that a boar might, could, should or would have.

There could not be a greater contrast to this sombre "Minnie" than the gay:--

LXXXII.

[Music:

You want to yerry Duppy talk oh! Come go da river before day, an' you will yerry them laugh oh! Come go da river before day; You want to yerry Duppy talk oh! Come go da river before day.]

"If you want to hear Duppy talk, go to the river before day."

LXXXIII.

Now the colour question crops up again. The Sambo lady, it may be remembered, wanted a white man and nothing but a white man. Sarah can do with a Sambo man, from which we may infer that Sarah was black.

[Music:

Oh me know Sarah, me know Sarah; Sarah love white man, me know Sarah; Sarah want Sambo man, me know Sarah; Sarah no want black man, me know Sarah.]

LXXXIV.

The pickers fall with slashing strokes to:--

[Music:

Me donkey want water, rub him down Joe, rub him down Joe, rub him down Joe; Me donkey like a peeny, rub him down Joe, rub him down Joe, Joe, rub him down Joe; Me Jackass gone a pound, bring him come Joe, bring him come Joe, bring him come Joe; Me donkey full of capers, rub him down Joe, rub him down Joe, Joe, rub him down Joe.]

"Peeny" is the Candlefly, which shines like my donkey's coat. "Bring come" for "bring" is very common, and in the same way they say "carry go," the "come" and "go" indicating the direction of motion.

LXXXV.

"Bring dem come" is the title of the next sing. It is in a curious minor mode, almost F minor, but wanting the leading note, which is replaced by E flat.

[Music:

A Somerset me barn, bring dem come, bring dem make me batter dem, bring dem come, me would take me picker batter dem, bring dem come. A Woburn Lawn me barn, bring dem come, I will like to see dem batter me, bring dem come, A Goatridge me barn, bring dem come, I want to see dem jostle me, bring dem come.]

This is a digging contest. The Somerset men challenge their neighbours. Whoever digs most yam-hills in a given time is to be the winner. Every man is confident that he will hold out longer than every other, and boasts like Goliath. "I was born at Somerset; bring the strangers, bring them, let me beat them; I will take my pickaxe and beat them--I was born at Woburn Lawn; I should like to see them beat me." Honour and glory is the sole reward, but that counts for a great deal. It is so gratifying to hear the others say "Lah! that man dig hill, ya."

("Jostle" has the same meaning as "batter." When two ponies race, the riders try to jostle and foul each other.)

LXXXVI.

The next is really a woodcutter's sing, but it is used also for digging:--

[Music:

Timber lay down 'pon pit, Timber; cut 'im make we go 'way, Timber; me want go 'way ya soon, Timber; timber lay down 'pon pit, Timber; timber, timber oh! Timber; me wanty go 'way ya soon, Timber; me want go home back a yard, Timber; a cedar timber oh! Timber; lash the saw make we go home, Timber; timber lay down 'pon pit, Timber.]

"Lie down on the pit, timber. Cut it, and let us go away. I want to go away soon, do you hear? Drive (lash) the saw hard."

The pit is not really a pit. The sawing is done where the tree falls. A rough scaffolding is made and the log is rolled up to lie on the top of it. The bottom sawyer stands upon the ground.

The West Indian cedar is not a fir but a deciduous tree (_Cedrela odorata_), which looks like a hickory or walnut. It grows in the hills, and its lightness and durability make it very useful. Most people know it in the shape of cigar-boxes.

The rest bars are sort of pauses for breath. It will be seen that they break the rhythm. Throwing the accent on "go," in "go 'way," is characteristic. We should put it on "'way."

LXXXVII.

Listen how restless and unfinished this sounds:--

[Music:

Me want go home a yard oh! me want go home a yard oh! me want go home a yard oh! me want go home a yard oh! a Guava Ridge me barn oh! me want go home a yard oh! mumma me want come home oh! me want go home a yard oh! poor me boy me want go home, me want go home a yard oh! Teacher Bailey crahss 'pon me, me want go home a yard oh!]

LXXXVIII.

The last example refers to the rebellion of 1865. Several whites were murdered, and the survivors are of opinion that their lives were saved by the prompt action of Governor Eyre, who proclaimed martial law and restored order by severe measures:--

[Music:

War down a Monkland, war down a Morant Bay, war down a Chiggerfoot, the Queen never know. War, war, war oh! War oh! heavy war oh! Soldiers from Newcastle come down a Monkland with gun an' sword fe kill sinner oh! War, war, war oh! War oh! heavy war oh!]

The places mentioned are in the parish (corresponding to English county), of St. Thomas, except Newcastle, the hill cantonment of the white troops, which is in the next parish of St. Andrew. "Chiggerfoot" takes its name from the chigoe, chigger, or jigger, the minute flea which burrows into the foot. It is interesting to see that this contemporary comment by the blacks describes the rebels as sinners. Further on, No. CXXXVII., will be found another view, in which they pose as aggrieved persons. It shows that there was a loyal as well as a disloyal party.

The reader has now had enough examples of digging-sings to show their nature and variety. The Negro is never at a loss for words, and the masters and overseers of the estate on which he generally labours, Bushas as he calls them--a word said to be derived from Pasha--are often satirised. The gangs on private estates are under a head-man, who is responsible to the Busha. The Busha is a white or coloured man as a rule--coloured in Jamaica meaning mixed white and black--and he is responsible to the master or owner. The workers have to be carefully looked after, for like other people the Negro will not do more work than he can help. Only when he is working for himself will he "let out," as he describes it, the whole of his splendid strength. It is a mistake to suppose that the black man is either stupid or lazy. When he has an incentive to work he is industrious, and will do as much in one day in his own field as he will in two for an employer who pays him. In selecting land for planting his sagacity is remarkable, and he knows just where it will "come," as he says, guinea yam or white yam, and where coffee will succeed and where fail. It is a pleasure to see their provision-grounds, the miscellaneous crop looks so thriving. "Provisions" embrace all eatables, such as yam, sweet potato, coco (_colocasia_), sugar cane, beans of various kinds, maize (or simply "corn," as we call it, having no other), okra (_hibiscus esculentus_), cassada (_manihot utilissima_), plantain, banana, arrowroot, pindar (_arachis hypogoea_, a ground-nut), pumpkin, tomato and cabbage.