THE BANKS OF PONTCHARTRAIN

 Originally titled, and frequently but not consistently listed as "Lakes of Pontchartrain". (It is often sung alternating the word "banks" with "lakes" throughout the lyric.)

Brian learned this one from Rachel Polisher. The first written record of this song comes from around 1905. Paddy M’Closkey of Carnamenagh, Corkey County, Antrim, wrote it down from the singing of Frank M’Allister, who learned it while working as a woodsman in America, then brought it back to Ireland.
BUFFALO SKINNERS

 Woody Guthrie took this old cowboy ballad and set it to the tune of I Am A Blind Fiddler. In the late 1700’s, there were about 50 million Amercian Buffalo on the Great Plains. By the late 1800’s, fewer than 400 remained. Millions were shot for profit. Millions were shot to destroy the Plains Indians. And millions were shot from the windows of passing trains, killed for sport, as tourists fired away until their gun barrels melted. Buffalo hunting was finally outlawed in the 1890’s. The population has slowly increased to about 400,000 over the last hundred years.
COPPER KETTLE

 Written (or re-written) by Frank Beddoe, from Bexar County, Texas. Beddoe was a mysterious figure. Pete Seeger says he just showed up one day at the office of People’s Songs and offered to help out. A few months later, he brought in a stack of mimeographed “traditional folk songs.” It turned out that Frank had written many of them. He wouldn’t give Pete a last name—just a middle initial-- so they called him Frank O. Frank. We would love to learn of other Beddoe compositions or interpretations, but have never heard of any other specific song credited to him, and, like many of you, always assumed this to be traditional.
COUNTRY LIFE

 Sung for centuries by the Black Sheep Morris Dancers on May Day. Willy learned it from Ken Taplin in Blue Hill, Maine during the early 70’s.
DOWN BOUND TRAIN

 Though various folks have claimed authorship of this song—there’s even a copyright claim staked by Chuck Berry -- the true original writer remains unknown. It’s a tune folks love to tinker with. Originally a cowboy song, first called Hell Bound Train, it was probably written between 1900 and 1909. The Berry interpretation was an obscure B-side played entirely on one chord (and replacing the word "hell with "home", presumably to appease radio censors of the day). This is our own arrangement, roughly based on version Willy heard his cousin, Rusty Saxton, sing in 1960. An early version of Hell Bound Train appears in Lomax’s Cowboy Songs (1910).
GENERAL TAYLOR

 That’s U. S. General Zachary Taylor, who defeated the Mexican leader Santa Anna in a battle at Buena Vista on February 23, 1847. “Stormy” is the legendary Captain Stormalong (a sort of John Henry folktale figure) from Boston, Massachusetts. They say that Old Stormy's ship was so big that he had to hinge his masts to avoid running into the moon. Stormy spent much of his life fighting the giant Kraken, half octopus and half sea monster, finally trapping him inside an endless whirpool! But that's a ballad for another time...
I WILL REAP WHAT I’VE SOWN

 Just as Willy was intrigued by writing in the old style (Ooralie-aye), Brian went for an old style country/bluegrass spiritual. The dust-bowl imagery makes clear that in the past, drought or an early frost may have ruined a harvest, but this time the farmer’s foolish pride is to blame for his crop’s failure. Inspired by Alison Krauss and the Cox Family’s gospel collaboration.
JONES’ ALE

 From Edward Harrison, collected by Cecil Sharp in Somerset, England, 1906. We learned it from the traditional Northumbrian singer Lou Killen, in the early 1970’s in Maine.
LORD BANGAM

 “There is a boar in yonder’s wood. He’ll break your bones and drink your blood.” Learned from Peggy Seeger’s Popular Ballads. A good, old fashioned, straightforward plot: Boy meets girl. Boy kills boar. Boy marries girl.
NOTTAMUN TOWN

 A 16th century mummer’s tune (mummers are theatrical troupes performing seasonal folk plays, originating in Britain), learned from the singing of Jean Ritchie. Cecil Sharp first recorded Nottamun Town by Jean’s sister Una, in 1917. Is it pure nonsense or riddling magic? Jean Ritchie, asking around about what it meant, was once told: “Why, lass, if the meaning’s found out, the magic is lost.”
OORALIE-AYE

 Willy says, “Many years ago, I was trying to find out where the song The Witch of the Westmerlands came from. One day, I ran into the Boys of the Loch, and figured they would know. They said, ‘Oh our friend Archie Fisher wrote that.’ I said, ‘But it sounds really old.’ They looked at me with some amusement, then patiently explained, ‘He wrote it in the old style. You can do that, you know!’ Oh, right, I thought. So I went home and wrote this tune.”
PRETTY BOY FLOYD

 During his short 30 years, Pretty Boy Floyd robbed dozens of banks, killed at least six men, wounded many more, made it onto the FBI’s Public Enemy list, and became the most famous man in Oklahoma. Thanks to Pretty Boy, bank insurance rates doubled. Between 20,000 and 40,000 people attended his funeral in 1934. Between robberies, Pretty Boy would hide out near where he grew up in Cookson Hills. Local farmers had no great love of banks, and Pretty Boy always had a lot of unofficial cash on hand, so it’s little wonder that Pretty Boy “found a welcome at many a farmer’s door.”
THE ROLLING OF THE STONE

 In some versions, it’s a brother who causes the sweetheart’s death, but in almost all, it’s an accident. Maybe the hero was just a clumsy dancer. In any case, he comes back to life, so all ends well! Learned from the singing of County Down.
THE ROSE AND THE LINDSY-O

 In 1966-67, Willy belonged to the Edinburgh Folk Song Society. Late one night some of the balladeers got together for an after-hours singing party and recorded tunes for him to take back to the States. This is his favorite.
TURTLE DOVE DONE DROOPED HIS WINGS

 Learned from Lucy Simpson in Blue Hill, Maine. It’s on a wonderful Folk-Legacy recording called Sharon Mountain Harmony. First recorded by Alan Lomax, with the great Bessie Jones, on a George Sea Island Singers collection. The nonsense syllables have been variously interpreted as singing in tongues, or a mis-remembering of Sacred Harp (shape note) syllables.
'TWAS PLEASANT AND DELIGHTFUL

 As he does in so many songs, William is leaving Nancy again - though this time, thankfully, he doesn't kill her - not even once. William is leaving her to go on an adventure in the East Indies. During the Napoleonic Wars, England briefly (1811-1816) wrested control of Java and several other East Indian posts from the Dutch. By 1817, the Dutch were back in control, and William was either dead or on his way back home.
WILLY MACINTOSH

 The history of the MacIntosh clan in the 1500’s is one of constant battles, betrayals, beheadings, arson, and general mayhem. Willy MacIntosh, apparently unprovoked, surprised the Earl of Huntly by burning down his castle at Auchindoon. Huntly pursued MacIntosh and defeated him in battle. Willy then threw himself on the mercy of Huntly’s wife. She briefly considered his plight, then had his head cut off. And so it goes…
THE WIND AND THE RAIN

 In most early versions of this song, whether English or Scottish, the motive for the murder is jealousy, and the haunted fiddle identifies the murderer, who is duly punished in the end. This Appalachian version omits both the motive and the punishment, making the story more mysterious.
In Yonder's Wood ~ Lyrics
Child Ballads are identified by their original titles and catalogue numbers.
THE BANKS OF PONTCHARTRAIN
'twas on one bright March morning, I bid New Orleans adieu
and I took the road to Jackson town, me fortune to renew
I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain
and it filled my heart with longing for the banks of Pontchartrain

I stepped on board of a railroad car beneath the morning sun
I rode the rods till evening, and I laid me down again
all strangers there, no friends to me till a dark girl towards me came
and I fell in love with me Creole girl by the banks of Pontchartrain

I said me pretty Creole girl, me money here's no good
and if it weren't for the alligators I'd sleep out in the wood
you're welcome here kind stranger, our house is very plain
but we never turned a stranger out by the banks of Pontchartrain

she took me into her mammy's house and treated me right well
her hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell
to try to paint her beauty I'm sure would be in vain
so handsome was me Creole girl by the lakes of Pontchartrain

I asked her if she'd marry me, she said that this could never be
for she had got a lover and he was far at sea
she said that she would wait for him and true she would remain

till he returned to his Creole girl by the banks of Pontchartrain

so fare thee well, my bonny young girl, I never may see you more
but I'll ne'er forget your kindness and your cottage by the shore
and at each social gathering a flowing glass I'll drain
and I'll drink a health to me Creole girl by the banks of Pontchartrain

and I'll drink a health to me Creole girl by the banks of Pontchartrain

BUFFALO SKINNERS
'Twas in the town of Jacksboro, in the spring of seventy three
A man by the name of Crego come stepping up to me
Saying, "How do you do, young fellow, and how'd you like to go
And spend the summer pleasant on the range of the buffalo?"

Well, me being out of employment, to old Crego I did say,
"This going out on the buffalo range depends upon the pay,
But if you'll pay good wages, transportation to and fro,
I think, Sir, I will go with you to the range of the buffalo."

"Oh yes, I'll pay good wages, and transportation too
Provided you will go with me and stay the summer through
But if you do get homesick, come back to Jacksboro
I won't pay transportation from the range of the buffalo."


Well with all his flatterin' talkin', he signed up quite a train,
Some ten or twelve in number, all able bodied men
Our way it was a pleasant one, the way we had to go
Until we crossed Pease river, boys, in old New Mexico


It was there our pleasures ended and our troubles they begun
First damn tail I went to rip, that's how I cut my thumb
We got all full of stickers from the cactus there did grow
And the outlaws waited to pick us off on the range of the buffalo

He fed us on such sorry chuck, I wished myself most dead
And all we had to sleep on was a buffalo hide for bed
The fleas and grey-backs chewed on us, the days dragged on so slow
O God! I wished I'd never come to the range of the buffalo

Well the season being near over, old Crego he did say,
"You boys have been extravagant; you've drunk up all your pay"
We begged him and we pleaded, but still he answered no
So we left old Crego's bones to bleach on the range of the buffalo

And now we've crossed Pease River, and homeward we are bound
No more in that hell-fire country shall ever we be found
Go home to our wives and sweethearts, tell others not to go
For God's forsaken the buffalo range, and the damned old buffalo

COPPER KETTLE
get you a copper kettle, get you a copper coil
fill it with new made corn mash, and never more you’ll toil

(chorus):
you'll just lay there by the juniper, while the moon is bright
watch them jugs a-fillin' in the pale moonlight
build you a fire with hickory, hickory ash and oak
don’t use no green or rotten wood, they’ll catch you by the smoke

(chorus)

my daddy he made whiskey, my granddaddy did too
we ain’t paid no whiskey tax since seventeen ninety-two

(chorus)

COUNTRY LIFE
Traditional
Oh, I like to rise when the sun she rises
early in the morning
And I like to hear them small birds singin'
merrily upon their lay limb
and hurrah for the life of a country boy
and to ramble in the new-mown hay.

In spring we sow and at the harvest mow
and that's how the seasons round they go
but of all the times, if to choose I may
'twould be rambling in the new mown hay
Oh, I like to rise . . .
In autumn when the leaves do fall
it's apple picking time for all
we'll drink hard strong cider when we may
and we'll dream about the new-mown hay

Oh, I like to rise . . .

In winter when the skies are gray
we hedge and we ditch our time away
but in summertime when the sun shines gay
we go rambling in the new-mown hay

Oh I like to rise . . .

DOWN BOUND TRAIN
Traditional/Berry
stranger lying on that bar room floor
drunk so much he couldn't drink no more
so he fell asleep with a troubled brain
dreamed he rode on a down bound train
The engine room it was sweaty and damp
dimly lit with a brimstone lamp
big steam boiler was filled with beer
devil himself was the engineer
passengers they were a motley crew
some were strangers and others he knew
rich men in broad cloths, beggars in rags
pretty young women and wicked old hags

As the train rushed on at a terrible pace
sulphuric fumes scorched their hands and face
wilder and wilder the country grew
faster and faster the engine flew
louder and louder the thunder crashed
brighter and brighter the lighting flashed
oh how those passengers screamed with pain
prayin' for the devil to stop that train
Then out of the distance there came a yell
aha said the devil, we're nearin' hell
stranger woke up with an anguished cry
his clothes was all sweat and his hair was standing high
he fell on his knees on that bar room floor
and prayed a prayer like never before
And his prayers and vows were not in vain
for he never rode that down bound train

GENERAL TAYLOR
Oh General Taylor gained the day (walk him along, John, carry him along)
Oh General Taylor gained the day (carry him to his burying ground)

(chorus):
To me way-hey, Stormy (walk him along, John, carry him along)
To me way, Stormy (carry him to his burying ground)

Oh General Taylor died long ago
He's gone down where the winds don't blow

We'll lower him down with a silver chain
And a shroud of the finest silk that's made

We'll lower him down with a golden chain
We'll make sure he doesn't rise up again

I wish I was old Stormy's son
I'd build a ship of ten thousand ton

(repeat first verse, chorus)

I WILL REAP WHAT I’VE SOWN
Brian Claflin
many years I have toiled to turn dust into soil
in a garden whose growth was my own
but I planted bad seeds, all that grow now are weeds
and I know I will reap what I've sown
there have often been times when the rains would not fall
when the frost came too early, and spared nothing at all
but this season there's no reason, no fault but my own
and I know I will reap what I've sown

(chorus):
I will reap what I have sown
for this harvest of darkness is none but my own
time will bring a new spring when new life may be grown
until then I will reap what I've sown
once I crawled on my knees to dig out each stone
but I turned help away, and I worked all alone
and now the earth where I'm planted cracks like old dry bones
and I know I will reap what I've sown

(chorus)
and I can never forget what I have done to my own home
oh, I know I will reap what I've sown

© copyright 2009 by Brian Claflin

JONES’ ALE
There were five jovial fellas come over the hill together
Come over the hill together to join the jovial crew

(chorus):
And they ordered their pints of beer and bottle of sherry
To help them over the hills so merry
To help them over the hills so merry
When Jones' Ale was new me boys
When Jones' Ale was new

Well the first to come in was a tinker
and he wasn't a small ale drinker
There wasn't a small ale drinker in all the jovial crew
He ordered a pint of the very best ale
To drink a full gallon he never would fail
To drink a full gallon he never would fail
When Jones' Ale was new me boys
When Jones' Ale was new

Well the next to come in was a dyer
And he set himself down by the fire
He set himself down by the fire to join the jovial crew
He told the landlord to his own face
The chiminy corner was his own place
And there he would sit and dye his face, when…

The next to come in was a mason
And his hammer it needed a facin'
His hammer it needed a facin' to join the jovial crew
He threw that old hammer against the wall
And swore each church and chapel might fall
For then there'd be work for masons all, when…

The next to come in was a soldier
With his flintlock over his shoulder
No man could look so bolder to join the jovial crew
He swore he would fight for king and crown
And knock each enemy rascal down
And he called for pints of beer all round, when…

The last to come in was a sailor
Dressed up a London tailor
Dressed up like a London tailor to join the jovial crew
And when the landlady's daughter, she came in
He kissed her twixt her nose and her chin
And the pints of beer come rolling in, when…

LORD BANGAM
Sir Lionel, Child Ballad #18
Lord bangam did a-hunting ride (derrum, derrum)
Lord bangam did a-hunting ride (kimmy qua)
Old bangam did a-hunting ride
A sword and pistol by his side (Derrum, kimmy quo qua)

He rode down to the riverside
And there a pretty maid he spied

Fair maid, said he,will you marry me
Oh, no, said she, for we don't agree

There lives a boar in yonder wood
He'll break your bones and suck your blood

Lord Bangam rode to the wild boar's den
There lay the bones of a hundred men

Lord Bangam and the wild bear fought
By set of sun the boar was naught

He rode unto the riverside
And there a pretty maid he spied

Fair maid, said he, will you marry me
Oh, yes, said she, for now we agree

Derrum, kimmy quo qua

NOTTAMUN TOWN
as I rode out in fair Nottamun town
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down
To show me the way to fair Nottamun town

I rode a gray horse, was called a gray mare
Grey mane and gray tail, green stripe down her back
Grey mane and gray tail, green stripe down her back
And not a hair on her but what was coal black

She stood so still, she threw me to the dirt
She tore at my heart and she bruised my shirt
From saddle to stirrup I mounted again
And on my ten toes I rode over the plain

Met the King and the Queen, and a company more
I'm riding behind them, and I'm marching before
Come a stark-naked drummer all beating his drum
His hands in his pockets come rolling along

Sat down on a hard, hot cold frozen stone
Ten thousand stood round me, and yet I's alone
Took my hat in my hand for to keep my head warm
Ten thousand got drownded that never was born

as I rode out in fair Nottamun town
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down,
To show me the way to fair Nottamun town

OORALIE-AYE
Willy Claflin
Old, old man come a walkin' along
walkin' along, walkin' along
walkin along an singin this song

(chorus):
Ooralye, ooralye, ooralye-o
ooralye-eye, ooralye-aye
Ooralye, ooralye, ooralye-o
Was all that he would say

big black dog was a passin' on by
he began to whine and cry

three old ladies was windin' the string
they began to dance and sing

sun go down and the stars all come out
and the wind in the wild wood started to shout

mornin's come and they've all gone away
left me here with nothin' to say

© copyright 2009 by Willy Claflin

PRETTY BOY FLOYD
Woody Guthrie
well gather 'round me, children
A story I will tell
'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw
Oklahoma knowed him well.
It was in the town of Shawnee
On a Saturday afternoon
His wife beside him in the wagon
As into town they rode.

Well, the deputy sheriff approached him
In a manner rather rude
Usingv ulgar words of anger
Mrs. Floyd she overheard

Well Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain
And the deputy grabbed his gun
And in the fight that followed
He laid that deputy down

Well he took to the trees and timber
To live a life of shame
Every crime in Oklahoma
Was added to his name

yes he took to the trees and rivers
on the Canadian river shore
and Pretty boy found a welcome
at many a farmer's door

yeah there's many a starving farmer
The same old story told
How the outlaw paid their mortgage
And saved their little homes

Yes and others tell you 'bout a stranger
That come to beg a meal
And underneath his napkin
Left a thousand dollar bill

It was in Oklahoma City
It was on a Christmas Day
There was a whole car load of groceries
Come with a note to say

Well, you say that I'm an outlaw
You say that I'm a thief
Well ere's a Christmas dinner
For the families on relief

Well, as through this world I've wandered
I've seen lots of funny men
Some will rob you with a six-gun
And some with a fountain pen

But as through this world you ramble
As through your life you roam
You won't ever see an outlaw
Drive a family from their home

THE ROLLING OF THE STONE
The Twa Brothers, Child Ballad #49
Oh will you go to the rolling of the stones
or the tossing of the ball
or will you go to see pretty Susie
and dance among them all

I will not go to the rolling of the stone
or the tossing of the ball
but I will go and see pretty Susie
and dance among them all

they had not danced but a single dance
a single dance around
before the sword at her true love's side
gave him the fatal wound

they picked him up and they carried him away
though he was sore distressed
they carried and buried him all in the green wood
where he was want to rest

pretty Susie she came a wanderin' by
with a basket under her arm
until she came to her true love's grave
where she began to charm

she charmed the fish out of the sea
the birds out of their nests
the charmed her true love out of his grave
so he could no longer rest

Oh will you go to the rolling of the stone
or the tossing of the ball
or will you go to see pretty Susie
and dance among them all

I will not go to the rolling of the stone
or the tossing of the ball
but I will go and see pretty Susie
and dance among them all

THE ROSE AND THE LINDSY-O
The Cruel Mother, Child Ballad #20
there was a king's daughter lived in the North
aye the rose and the lindy-o
and she was courted by her father's clark
awa by the green woodsidey-o

she's laid her back against the thorn
and there her twa bonnie boys was born

now she's takin' out her little pen knife
and she has taken her bonnie boys' life

one day when she was standin' in the hall
she saw twa bonnie boys a playin' at the ball

oh little boys if you was mine
I'd dress ye up in the silks so fine

oh but mother dear when we were thine
you dressed us not in your silk so fine

oh children, children, tell to me
oh tell me tell me what death I'll die

well it's seven long years a bird in the wood
and seven long year a fish in the flood

then it's seven long years a warnin' bell
and seven long years at the gates of hell

well it's welcome, welcome, bird in the wood
and welcome welcome fish in the flood

and it's welcome, welcome, warnin' bell
but the god in heaven keep me outta hell

TURTLE DOVE DONE DROOPED HIS WINGS
turtle dove done drooped his wings
turtle dove done drooped his wings
turtle dove done drooped his wings
high on Zion's hill to sing

(chorus):
adam & eve so so
adam & eve won't you tell it to me
meet me at the door won't you tell it to me
sasa lasa do on tala sa ree

my name is written on David's line
I'll get to heaven on the heels of time

when I get to heaven I know the rule
skip on down to the wadin' pool

'TWAS PLEASANT AND DELIGHTFUL
'Twas pleasant and delightful one mid summer's morn
When the green fields and the meadows lay burgeoned with corn
And the blackbirds and thrushes sang on every green tree
And the larks they sang melodious
At the dawning of the day

A sailor and his true love were out walking one day
Said the sailor to his true love I am bound far away
I'm bound for the East Indies where the loud cannons roar
and I'm going to leave my Nancy
She's the girl that I adore

A ring from off her finger she instant-lie drew
Saying take this dearest William; my heart will go too
And as he embraced her, tears from her eyes fell
Saying' may I go along with you
Oh no my love farewell

said the sailor to his true love I must be on my way
our topsils are hoisted and our anchor's away
our big ship she lies waiting for the next flowing tide
And if ever I return again
I will make you my bride

WILLY MACINTOSH
Child Ballad #183
As I come in be Fiddichside, on a May morning
I spied Willie MacIntosh an hour before the dawning.
Turn again, turn again, turn again, I bid ye.
If ye burn Auchindoun, Huntley he will heid ye.
Heid me or hang me, that will never fear me
I will burn Auchindoun ere the life leaves me
As I come in be Fiddichside, on a May morning
Auchindoun was in a blaze, an hour before the dawning.
Crawing, crawing, for all your crows a-crawin',
You've burnt your crop and tint your wings an hour before the dawning

THE WIND AND THE RAIN
The Twa Sisters, Child Ballad #10
Two lovin' sisters walking' side by side
Oh the wind and rain
One pushed the other in the water so wide
she cried the dreadful wind and rain

And she floated on down to the miller's dam
Oh, the wind and rain
yeah, she floated on down to the miller's dam
she cried the dreadful wind and rain

and he's fished her out with his long fishin' pole
Oh, the wind and rain
yes, he's fished her out with his long fishin' pole
she cried the dreadful wind and rain

and he's made fiddle strings from her long golden hair
Oh, the wind and rain
yes, he's made fiddle strings from her long golden hair
she cried the dreadful wind and rain

and he's made fiddle screws of her tiny finger bones
Oh, the wind and rain
yeah, he's made fiddle screws of her tiny finger bones
she cried the dreadful wind and rain

but the only tune that the fiddle would play
was oh, the wind and rain.
yeah the only tune that the fiddle would play
Was oh the dreadful wind and rain