179 THE ARKANSAW TRAVELLER A MORE "refined" but less humorous version of this dialogue, with music, was published (apparently in the fifties) by Blodgett & Bradford, Buffalo, in sheetmusic form, and reprinted in The Arkansas Traveller's Songster (New York, cop. 1864), p. 5. It was entitled "The Arkansas Traveller. By Mose Case." There was this explanatory introduction: "This piece is intended to represent an Eastern man's experience among the inhabitants of Arkansas, showing their hospitality and the mode of obtaining it." Old theatre-goers will remember the opening scene of the once famous play of Kit the Arkansas Traveller, with F. S. Chanfrau in the title rôle. Contributed by Mr. A. C. Payne, Barclay, McDowell County, August, 1918. The performance consisted of the Fiddler's playing a few bars of the tune and then stopping and carrying on an imaginary conversation with the Traveller. Traveller (riding up to the house). Hello, stranger! Fiddler. Hello yourself! If you want to go to hell, go by yourself. T. Why don't you play the other part of that tune? F. Well, to tell you the truth, I don't know no other part to that tune; don't think there is another part to that tune. T. Let me stay all night, and I'll learn you the other part to that tune; it'll be worth fifty dollars to you. F. [The reply could not be remembered.] T. Stranger, why don't you cover the other side of your house? F. It's rainin' too hard. T. Why don't you cover it when it ain't rainin'? F. Why, it's just as dry a house as yours or as any other man's house when it ain't rainin'. T. What makes your corn look yeller and bad? F. Why, fool, I planted yeller corn. T. How does your taters turn out? F. Turn out the devil! They don't turn out at all. I dug a part, and the old sow rooted out the rest. T. How fur is it to the fork of the road? F. Fork the devil! I've lived here a hundred and fifty years and never knowed the road to fork nothin' yit. T. Can I ford the river? F. It looks reasonable; the geese been fordin' it all mornin'. F. Little Rock the devil! I never heard tell of no little rock. Right across that hill one hundred and fifty miles is a hell of a big one. T. I wish you'd head that steer. F. Head the devil! Looks like he's got a head on. T. I did n't mean that; I meant, stop him. F. I've got no stopper fur him. T. Which way's your daughter? F. She's out digging ginseng, or some other kind of root. Old woman, this man's hungry. He said he'd learn me the other part of this tune and it's worth fifty dollars to me. Old woman, fix him something to eat. Wife. I ain't got nothin' fur him. I don't like him too well nohow. F. There's a middle of bacon in the smokehouse and a pone of bread in the oven. Give him that. W. That's all I've got, old man. Old woman, F. There's plenty more where that come from. what's this man goin' to sleep on? It's awful cold to-night. W. There's a sheepskin under the bed and a goatskin in the closet. If he can't sleep on that, let him freeze, and go to the devil! F. Why, old woman, that old hound of ourn could n't sleep on that. There's a good feather bed in the room and plenty of covers. Put him in that. W. Old man, that's all we've got. F. No matter, there's plenty more where that come from. You know he told me that tune was worth fifty dollars in cash to me. [By that time the traveller had come in and was playing the other part of the tune on the man's fiddle.] T. Is this a single-line or a double-line fiddle? F. Single-line the devil! You old fool, don't you see there's four strings on it? Old woman, pick up that chair and bust him wide open. Put him out of here. T. Hold a minute. Let me tune your fiddle. [Tunes up and plays a little.] F. My God Almighty! For a little I'd kill you. You talk about a four-line fiddle. You been used to an eight-line fiddle. Old woman, what I've heard already is worth fifty dollars. Old man, play me the other part of that tune. I would n't take five hundred dollars for what I've heard. [The traveller plays the whole tune.] Stranger, kick that old woman out and take that three-legged stool. That takes the rag off the bush. Come in and make my house your home as long as you live. Old woman, don't that cap the stack? W. Cap the stack? It takes the rag off the bush. F. You old fool woman, you wanted to turn him off, and I would n't take five hundred dollars for what I've heard. You old stingy devil, from this time on I 'low I'll keep everything that passes the road. Look what this man's learnt me! Stranger, lead up your horse to that block and give him a few punkins and take a few yourself. So, good-bye! 180 THE NIGGER TUNE A GOOD text of this comic cante-fable is found in The American Star Songster (New York, 1851), p. 140. It is an adaptation (apparently American) of the English "Push along, keep moving," which was also well known in this country: see The Universal Songster, or, Museum of Mirth (London, 1827, 1834), I, 399 (credited to "Moor"); broadside, J. Kendrew, York; slip, Pitts; Ford, Massachusetts Broadsides, No. 3313 (ca. 1813); The Theatrical Budget, New Series, No. 4 (New York, 1828), p. 110 ("Dialogue, between an Irish innkeeper and an English gentleman"); Sloman's Drolleries (New York, 1828), p. 8 (“as sung by Mr. Eberle"); The New England Songster (Portsmouth, New Hampshire, 1832), p. 114. The motto "Push on, keep moving" became a catchword from Thomas Morton's popular comedy A Cure for the Heart-Ache (1797), in which one or the other phrase is constantly repeated by Young Rapid. Contributed by Mr. A. C. Payne, Barclay, McDowell County, August, 1918. I I am a man, a pretty man, The ladies call me pretty; I teach the school, the higher school, In our own native city. "What kind of a school did you teach?" "I took the little boy through the a-b abs, i-b ibs, and o-b obs." "Then what did you do?" "I stuck in the mud, fool, that's what I do." I next put up a blacksmith shop, "What about your blacksmith shop?" "Well, there comes a little boy in my shop the other day, picked up a red hot horse shoe. I guess he laid it down without tellin'. He went up the road singing that good old song we sing sometimes, 'Push along, keep movin'."" 3 I next put up a whiskey shop, A whiskey shop improvin'; "What about your whiskey shop?" "Why, there come a man in my shop the other day, said he wanted a little whiskey. I went around to git him some and I met that old fool wife of mine, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a bottle in the other, reelin' first one way and then the other. She squalled out, 'Don't let no more of that whiskey go, there ain't no more than 'll do me.' I hauled back and took her by the side of the head. She went out of doors, 'Push along, keep movin'."" 4 I next put up a carpenter shop, "What about your carpenter shop?" "I went into my shop the other day, and got a letter from that old gal of mine out in the country. I did not know anybody in a mile of me. Standin' thar readin' of it, throwed my head back, here's that old fool wife of mine readin' of it over my shoulder. She picks up a great big piece of plank, she lit in on my hind parts. I guess I went out o' doors, 'Push along, keep movin'.' |