The Songs My Mama Sang to Me, and Then a Few I Sang to My Own Kids

I Don't Want to Play in Your Yard

Written by Philip Wingate (1894) 
Music by: H.W. Petrie 
Recording by Peggy Lee (1957) is of the chorus only, and much slower than Mom sang it.

This song was always accompanied by "Playmates," which follows.  Mom sang about "two little girls" with their "hair up in curls," and she only sang the first and fourth stanza along with the chorus.  The additional lyrics are in italics.  Then she would start right in with her version of "Playmates"  It wasn't until I moved to New England that I understood what it meant to slide down the cellar door (bulkhead).



Once there lived side by side
Two little maids
Used to dress just alike,
Hair down in braids,

Blue gingham pinafores,
Stockings of red,
Little blue bonnets 
Tied on each pretty head.

When school was over,
Secrets they'd tell,
Whispering to themselves,
Down by the well.

One day a quarrel came, 
Hot tears were shed:
"You can't play in our yard,"
But the other said:

Chorus: 
"I don't want to play in your yard,
I don't like you anymore, 
You'll be sorry when you see me,
Sliding down our cellar door, 
You can't holler down our rainbarrel,
You can't climb our apple tree, 
I don't want to play in your yard
If you won't be good to me."

Next day two little maids 
Each other miss, 
Quarrels are soon made up,
And sealed with a kiss,

Then hand in hand again,
Happy they go, 
Friends all through life to be,
Loving each other so.

Soon school days pass away
Sorrows and bliss
But love remembers yet
That quarrel and kiss,

In sweet dreams of childhood
We hear this cry:
"You can't play in our yard," 
And the other reply:

Chorus

Playmates

Although one website attributes the words and lyrics to Saxie Dowell, copyright 1940 by Santly Joy-Select, Inc., the melody was actually plagiarized note-for-note from a tune called Iola by Charles L. Johnson (1904).  Johnson sued and Dowell settled out of court. Dowell's song was recorded by Kay Kaiser in 1940.

I also found additional verses that I had never heard. I've written first what my mom used to sing to me. The additional lyrics follow, in italics. Sometimes mom sang that it was a "sunny day" and sometimes that it was a "rainy day."  I've found both of those variations in the lyrics I've found online.

It is consistent with Mom's sensibilities that she never taught me the verses about 'my enemy.'

Verse 1:  Oh, little playmate,
Come out and play with me
And bring your dollies three
Climb up my apple tree
Look down my rain barrel
Slide down my cellar door
And we'll be jolly friends
Forever evermore.

She couldn’t come out and play

It was a sunny day

With tearful eye, she breathed a sigh

And I could hear her say

Verse 2:  I'm sorry playmate
I cannot play with you
My dollies have the flu
Boo hoo boo hoo
Ain't got no rain barrel
Ain't got no cellar door
But we'll be jolly friends
Forever evermore.

(The words I found online follow below)

See, see my playmate,
Come out and play with me
And bring your dollies three
Climb up my apple tree
Holler down my rain barrel
Slide down my cellar door
And we'll be jolly friends
Forever evermore.

Oh no my playmate
I can't come play with you
My dollies have the flu
Boo hoo boo hoo
Can't holler down rain barrels
Or slide down a cellar door
But we'll be jolly friends
Forever evermore. 

Say, say, my playmate
Don't come and play with me
Don't bring your dollies three
Cut down my apple tree
Fall off my rainbow,
Into my cellar door
And we'll be enemies
Forever evermore.

Say, say my enemy.
Come out and fight with me.
And bring your bulldogs three.
Climb up my sticker tree.
Slide down my lightning.
Into my dungeon door
And we'll be jolly enemies
Forever evermore.

Say say old enemy
Come out and fight with me
And bring your bb gun
And we'll have lots of fun
I'll scratch your eyes out
And make you bleed to death
And we'll be jolly enemies
Forever evermore.

Oh little enemy,
I cannot fight with you,
My mommy said not too
Boo hoo hoo hoo
I can't scratch your eyes out
And make you bleed to death
But we'll be jolly enemies
Forever evermore.

Chi-Baba, Chi-Baba
( My Bambino Go to Sleep )

(Recorded by both Perry Como and Peggy Lee - 1947)

Many a year ago in old Sorrento
a certain ditty was quite the thing
Whenever a mother rocked her baby in Sorrento
this little ditty she used to sing:

 

Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!

 

Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!

All the stars are in the skies ready to say "goodnight"
can't you see your doll is sleepy, too?
Close your drowsy little eyes, mama will hold you tight
while she sings a lullaby to you:

Oh, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
 

Music by Al Hoffman, Jerry Livingston 

with lyrics by Mack David, 1947

Oxford Music Corp.

Swinging On A Star

(Recorded by Bing Crosby – 1944)

(Jimmy Van Heusen and Johnny Burke)

Chorus: Would you like to swing on a star?

Carry moonbeams home in a jar?

And be better off than you are?

Or would you rather be a mule? 

A mule is an animal with long, funny ears

He kicks up at anything he hears

His back is brawny and his brain is weak

He's just plain stupid with a stubborn streak

And, by the way, if you hate to go to school

You may grow up to be a mule 

Or (Chorus)

Or would you rather be a pig? 

A pig is an animal with dirt on his face

His shoes are a terrible disgrace

He's got no manners when he eats his food

He's fat and lazy and extremely rude

But if you don't care a feather or a fig

You may grow up to be a pig

Or (Chorus)

Or would you rather be a fish? 

A fish won't do anything but swim in a brook

He can't write his name or read a book

To fool the people is his only thought

And though he's slippery, he still gets caught

But then if that sort of life is what you wish

You may grow up to be a fish

Not all the monkeys live in a zoo

Every day you meet quite a few

So you see, it's all up to you

You could be better than you are 

You could be swingin' on a star

Little bit of fun history from Wikipedia: 

“Song writer Jimmy Van Heusen was at Crosby’s house one evening for dinner, and to discuss a song for the movie Going My Way. During the meal one of the children began complaining about how he didn’t want to go to school the next day. The singer turned to his son and said to him, ‘If you don’t go to school, you might grow up to be a mule. Do you wanna do that?’

Van Heusen thought this clever rebuke would make a good song for the movie. He pictured Crosby, who played a priest, talking to a group of children acting much the same way as his own child had acted that night. Van Heusen took the idea to his partner lyricist Johnny Burke, who approved. They wrote the song.  It won an Academy Award for Best Original Song that year.  Andy Williams and the Williams brothers sang back ups.”

When the Work's All Done This Fall

Traditional tune, Lyrics based on a poem by D.J. O'Malley

Recorded by Carl T. Sprague in 1925

D.J. O'Malley's poem was collected and published in Carl Sandburg's 1927 "American Songbag" on page 260 in the section titled "The Great Open Spaces." Carl Sprague was sometimes called the first singing cowboy.  His recording of this tune sold over 900,000 copies. 

There are many versions of the lyrics to this song, but I'm pretty sure that the version my mother sang to me was the Carl Sprague version from 1925.  Below, I've included all of the verses I discovered in researching this, and the ones in italics are the verses not in the Sprague recording.  The other verses are all lyrics I remember my mom singing to me.  

A group of jolly cowboys
Discussing plans at ease
Says one, I'll tell you something, boys
If you will listen, please

I am an old cow puncher
And here I'm dressed in rags
But I used to be a tough one
And I went on great big jags

Once I had a home, boys
And a good one you all know
Though I haven't seen it 

Since long long ago

I'm going back to Dixie
Once more to see 'em all
I'm a gonna see my mother
When the work's all done this fall

Now when I left my home, boys
My Mother for me cried
She begged me not to go, boys
For me she would have died

My mother's heart is breaking
I've broken it that's all
But with God's help I'll see her
When the work's all done this fall

When the roundup days are over
And the shipping all is done
I'm going right straight home, boys
Before my money's gone

I have changed my way, boys
No more will I fall
Yes, I am going home, boys
When the work's all done this fall

That very night this cowboy went out
To stand his guard
The night was dark and cloudy
And storming very hard

The cattle, they got frightened
And rushed in wild stampede
The cowboy tried to head them
 A'riding at full speed

While a'riding in the darkness 

So loudly did he shout
Tryin' his best to head them
And turn the herd about

His saddle horse did stumble
And on him did fall
The boy won't see his mother
When the work's all done this fall

His body was so mangled

The boys all thought him dead

They picked him up so gently

And laid him on a bed

He opened wide his blue eyes

And lookin' all around

He motioned to his comrades

To sit with him on the ground

Boys, send my Mother my wages

The wages I have earned

I am afraid, boys
My last steer I have turned

I'm going to a new range
I hear my Master's call
I'll not see my mother
When the work's all done this fall

Bill, you take my saddle
George, you can have my bed
Joe, you can take my pistol
After I am dead

Boys, think about me kindly
When you look upon them all
For I'll not see my mother
When the work's all done this fall

Poor Charlie was buried at sunrise
No tombstone at his head
Nothing but a little board
And this is what it said

Charlie died at daybreak
He died from a fall
The boy won't see his mother
When the work's all done this fall

Sweet Violets
(Recorded by Dinah Shore – 1951)

(arr. Cy Coben and Charles Green)

Chorus: Sweet violets

Sweeter than the roses
Covered all over from head to toe
Covered all over with sweet violets

There once was a farmer who took a young miss
In back of the barn where he gave her a lecture
On horses and chickens and eggs
And told her that she had such beautiful
Manners that suited a girl of her charms
A girl that he wanted to take in his
Washing and ironing and then if she did
They could get married and raise lots of

Chorus

The girl told the farmer that he'd better stop
Or she'd call her father and he'd call a
Taxi that got there before very long
'Cause some one was doin' his little girl
Right for a change and so that's why he said
If you marry her son, you're better off 
Single, 'cause it's always been my belief
Marriage will bring a man nothing but

Chorus

The farmer decided he'd wed anyway
And started in planning for his wedding
Suit which he purchased for only one buck
But then he found out he was just out of
Money and so he got left in the lurch
Standin' and waitin' in front of the
End of the story which just goes to show
All a girl wants from a man is his

Chorus

(The chorus is from the play “Fritz Among the Gypsies,”  by Joseph Emmet written in 1882)

More to come:

Little Curlyhair in a High Chair
Missouri Waltz

and more.

I'm taking requests, too.