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The best old fiddle and the best old bow,
No full textvoiceW. T. Dethero
Batesville, Ark.
April 13, 1955
Reel 223, Item 1
Cotton-Eyed Joe
Collected by
Mary Celestia Parler;
Transcribed by
Neil Byer
The best old fiddle and the best old bow,
The best old fiddle in the country-o,
My old fiddle is made of wood
And best old fiddle in the neighborhood;
Your old fiddle is made of pine,
The best old fiddle, excepting mine.
I'd been married six or seven years ago
If it hadn't a been for old Cotton-eyed Joe,
I wanted to go to meeting and they wouldn't let me go,
I had to stay at home with Cotton-eyed Joe.
Tune up the fiddle and resin up the bow
And knock the darnation out a Cotton-eyed Joe,
Home-made ????? and a puncheon floor,
And spend my money and I work for more.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Tale: The buckskin pants
No full textCollected by
Mary Celestia Parler;
Transcribed by
Neil Byer
W. T. Dethero
Batesville, Ark.
April 13, 1955
Reel 223, Item 3
The Buckskin Pants (a tale)
Way back yonder in the old times when this country
was thinly settled, people wore buckskin pants. And the
old men knew how to tan them so they looked white and
bleached, just like domestic. And their mothers would
cut them out and use red thread and blue and green to
whip up the seams— all around the pockets and up and
down. A young fellow that owned one of them buckskin
pants, he thought he was settin' pretty. But the only
drawback was that when you got out and got wet, they's
stretch and the legs would get too long. So I'll tell
this on myself:
I had a girl, and she lived about five mile away.
We didn't mind to go walk five miles them days to go
see a girl, and generally always stayed all night. So
I started out one Sunday, just to Sunday School, and
it was about five mile away to Sunday School. She
expected me to go home with her, and I just didn't have
the courage to walk off with her, and I backed down.
But after she went on, I followed along after her. And
she got home before I did, and it come up a shower of
rain and got me wet. Well, I went on and got in and set
by a great big fire, had a big fireplace, and the mother and
the daughter was a-gettin' supper. And I set there a
little while and I seen my pants begin to dry and my
pants legs begin to draw up. They kept a-gettin' shorter
and shorter, and I got awfully embarrassed. And finally
they asked me to supper, and I didn't have no appetite.
And I said, "I guess I don't want any supper." So the
old man and the old lady went off to bed to give us a
chance to talk. But I couldn't think about anything else
but my pants. They just kept a-drawin' up and a-drawin'
up. They got up pert near to my knees. And finally she
said, "If you're going to say anything to me tonight, it's
time to say it." She said, "It's time for me to go to bed."
Reel 223, Item 3, cont.
And I said, "Well, I just ain't got nothing to say."
And there was a little window, just one pane of window,
cut right there in the corner of the house next to the
bed. And the light was broke out. And she told me
I could sleep back there. Well, I went back there, the
the wind and the rain was still a-blowin' in the window,
and I stuck my pants in that window to keep the
rain out. Went off to sleep, and the next morning I
woke up and I missed my pants. And I couldn't imagine
where they was. And finally I heard something a-smacking
on the outside. An old sow had reared up and
pulled them down and had them under her feet and was
a-pullin' and a-tuggin' on them to get the grease out
of them. So I was up against it. And they finally
asked me to get out. And I just had to tell them
that my pants was gone. So I didn't weigh but 135
pounds and the old man he weighed about 240. And they
let me have his pants. When I started to go to the
fireplace, the seat almost drug the floor. And I hit
the first seat I could come to, the first chair. Well,
they asked me to breakfast, but I still didn't have
any appetite. I couldn't eat anything. I just set
there, studied about my pants. The old man had stirred
up then, and he went to work. The old lady and the
girl went to the barn to milk. And the old lady
brought in a bucket full of milk, a big two gallon and
a half pail full of milk. And they went back to
separate the calves. And I got hungry about that time,
and I picked up that bucket, and I started to drink.
And the pail fell over my head. And I thought the old
lady was after me with a broomstick, and I just jumped
and bucked around there, and tore the bucket all to
pieces, spilled milk all over the floor, and run off
with the old man's pants on.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Talk: Pessimistic
No full textCollected by W. T. Dethero
Mary Celestia Parler; Batesville, Ark.
Transcribed by April 13, 1955
Neil Byer
Reel 224, Item 13
Pessimistic Talk
This is a kind of pessimistic Irishman. He was
a-going down the streets and he found a quarter laying
down on the sidewalk. He picked it up and said, "Faith,
and what an unlucky devil I am. If anybody else had
found that, it would a been a dollar."
And there was another Irishman, and he was a-painting
and was a-working awful fast. And a fellow said to
him, "What'er you hurring so fast for?" He said, Well,
I want to get through before my paint gives out."Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Too late for the sugaro tea
No full textvoiceCo l le c t e d by
Mary C e l e s t i a P a r l e r ;
Tr an s c r ib ed by
Ne i l Byer
W. T. Dethero
B a t e s v i l l e
Apr i l 12, 1955
Reel 227, Item 2
Sugar -0 Tea
( " . . . I t ' s slow, and the g i r l s and boys f a c e s one
anothe r , about f i v e f e e t a p a r t . And t h e r e ' s one couple
s t a r t s in below and they promenades up, and back the
second t ime , then they a l l begin to swing on the corner .
And a f t e r a whi le , they a l l run away. I t ' s c a l l e d
Sug a r -O T e a . " )
Too l a t e fo r the suga r -o t e a ,
Too l a t e fo r the candy- o ,
Too l a t e fo r the suga r -o t e a ,
Too l a t e f o r the candy-o.
You turn down th a t suga r -o t e a ,
And I ' l l turn down the candy-o,
You turn down th a t sugar -o t e a ,
And I ' l l turn down the candy-o.
( r e p e a t four l i n e s twic e )
You run away with the sugar-o t e a ,
And I ' l l run away with the candy-o,
You run away wi th the suga r -o t e a ,
And I ' l l run away with the candy-o.
( r e p e a t four l i n e s )Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
All 'round this ring my sweet sugar lump,
No full textvoiceCollected by
Mary Celestia Parler;
Transcribed by
Neil Byer
W. T. Dethero
Batesville
April 12, 1955
Reel 227; Item 3
Ladies Rockin
All 'round this ring my sweet sugar lump,
All 'round this ring we go,
All 'round this ring my sweet sugar lump,
All 'round this ring we go.
Ladies rockin' my sugar lump,
Ladies rockin' my sugar lump,
Ladies rockin' my sugar lump,
Oh, turn back, sinners, turn.
Keep on rockin' my sugar lump,
Keep on rockin' my sugar lump,
Keep on rockin' my sugar lump,
Oh, turn back, sinners, turn.
Rock a little faster my sugar lump,
Rock a little faster my sugar lump,
Rock a little faster my sugar lump,
Oh, turn back, sinners, turn.
Rockin' a-rockin' my sugar lump,
Rockin' a-rockin' my sugar lump,
Rockin' a-rockin' my sugar lump,
Oh, turn back, sinners, turn.
Oh, quit that a-rockin' my sugar lump,
Oh, quit that a-rockin' my sugar lump,
Oh, quit that a-rockin' my sugar lump,
Oh, turn back, sinners, turn.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Is that you, Sambo? NO, it 'tis Jim;
No full textvoiceCollected by T. W. Dethero
Mary Celestia Parler; Batesvllle, Ark.
Transcribed by April 13, 1955
Neil Byer
Reel 228, Item 19
Jump, Jim Crow
Is that you, Sambo? NO, it 'tis Jim;
You ain't got good-looking and you can't come in,
And there's no use a-knock ing at the door anymore,
And there's no use a-knocking at the door anymore.
Riding up a goat and leading up a sheep,
Won't get home till the middle of the week,
And there's no use a-knocking at the door anymore,
And there's no use a-knocking at the door anymore.
Where you going, buzzard? Where you going, crow?
Going over the river for to jump Jim Crow.
And there's no use a-knocking at the door anymore,
And there's no use a-knocking at the door anymore.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Wake up, boys, Wolves is a-howlin',
No full textvoiceW. T. Dethero
Batesville, Ark.
April 13, 1955
Reel 224, Item 7
Wake Up, Boys
Collected by
Mary Celestia Parler;
Transcribed by
Neil Byer
Wake up, boys,
Wolves is a-howlin',
All around
My pretty little darlin'.
Big dog barkin',
Little dog's a-growling,
Settin' in the parlor
Talking to my darlin'.
Wake up, boys,
Day is a-breakin',
Peas in the pot
And hoe cake a-bakin'.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Nobody's darling on earth,
No full textvoiceCollected by T. W. Dethero
Mary Celestia Parler; Batesville, Ark.
Transcribed by April 1 3 , 1955
Neil Byer
Reel 228, Item 18
Nobody's Darling
Out in this cold world alone,
Walking about the street,
Asking a penny each day,
Begging for something to eat.
Chorus: Nobody's darling on earth,
Heaven will merciful be,
For I'm nobody's darling,
Nobody cares for me.
Penniless, fatherless and poor,
Nothing but trouble I see,
For I'm nobody's darling,
Nobody cares for me.
Chorus
No one to kiss me goodnight,
No one to put me to bed,
Up in the attics alone,
Weeping over those who are dead.
Chorus
Often at night when I kneel,
Uplifting my sorrowful eyes,
Asking Mama to smile
Down upon her child from the skies.
When my grief is all past,
Mama in heaven I see,
Then I'm somebody's darling,
Mama will care for me.
Chorus: Somebody's darling on earth,
Heaven will merciful be,
For I'm somebody's darling,
Mama will care for me.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
If you have a little home you call your own, There's no place like home
No full textvoice; harmonicasCollected by
Mary Celestia Parler;
Transcribed by
Neil Byer
W. T. Dethero
Batesville
April 12, 1955
Reel 227, Item 6
There's No Place Like Home For The Married Man
(to the tune of Home, Sweet Home)
("...I'll play a verse on the harp and sing a verse.
I should have somebody to accompany me while I'm playing
the harp...")
(mouth organ)
If you have a little home you call your own,
There's no place like home,
And you have a little wife, she's the pride of your life,
There's no place like home;
When you come in tired with a hard day's work,
Six or seven kids greet you with their faces black as dirt
And they'll leave half their supper on the bosom of their
shirt,
There's no place like home.
(mouth organ)
When your kinfolks come to visit you,
There's no place like home,
They pack their trunks and they stick like glue,
There's no place like home;
When your mother-in-law takes the best bed you've got,
And puts you out on an old shackledy cot,
And your brother-in-law lays around 'bout half-shot,
There's no place like home.
(mouth organ)
When the babe cries out in the middle of the night,
And you give her castor oil without any light,
There's no place like home;
When you step on the point of an upturned tack,
Come sliding down the stairs on the middle of your back,
And your wife'll holler out, "Hurry up, Jack,"
There's no place like home.
(mouth organ)
Reel 227, Item 6, cont'd.
Home, home, home, sweet home,
With your wife's cold feet in the middle of your back
There's no place like home.
(mouth organ)Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
Big Tom, Little Tom, Big Tom Bailey, He had a wife and three little babies,
No full textvoiceCollected by
Maty Celestia Parler;
Transcribed by
Neil Byer
W. T. Dethero
Batesville, Ark.
April 13, 1955
Reel 223, Item 8
Big Tom Bailey
Big Tom, Little Tom, Big Tom Bailey,
He had a wife and three little babies,
One got drunk and one got drownded,
One got lost and Grandpap found it.
One in the corner, the other in the cradle,
The other'n in the soup pot up to its lable;
I love my wife and I love my baby,
And I love my biscuits sopped in gravy.
Climb up, Kitty-puss, climb up higher,
Climb up, Kitty-puss, your tail's in the fire,
Poor little Kitty-puss; poor little fellow.
Poor little Kitty-puss, he died in the cellar.Funding for digitization provided by the Arkansas Humanities Council and the Happy Hollow Foundation
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