Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls

Subject: RE: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: Bruce O.
Date: 23 Feb 98 - 01:26 PM

rich r, I've added a traditional version, "The Tailor and the Louse", in a new thread.

Subject: RE: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: Bruce O.
Date: 22 Feb 98 - 02:54 PM

The direct url for the 17th century broadside ballad index is:

www.pbm.com/~lindahl/ballads/17thc_index.html

The link is at the bottom of the 1st page of the site listed in 'Links' here.

Subject: RE: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: Bruce O.
Date: 22 Feb 98 - 02:25 PM

It's in the new links section at the top of this forum. 17th century ballad index, I think its called.

Subject: RE: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: rich r
Date: 21 Feb 98 - 08:24 PM

Thanks. Just one question. Where is your internet ballad index?

rich r

Subject: RE: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: Bruce O.
Date: 21 Feb 98 - 04:13 PM

Another Scottish piece from the Bannatyne MS, 1568 is:

The sowtar Inveyand aganis the telyeor Sayis

Quhen I come by yon telyeoris stall
I saw ane Lowiss creipand vp his wall
snop q the telyeor snap q the scheris
Cokkis bownis q the lowiss I haif lost myne Eiris
[Cokkis bowniss = God's bones, a mild oath like 'Berlady' = by our lady (Virgin Mary)] Broadsides on the battle of the taylor and mouse, in chronological order, are; ZN2570, ZN2168, and ZN2449. The ditty of the six-legged creature is ZN654, with drollery versions noted in the broadside index.

Subject: RE: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: Bruce O.
Date: 21 Feb 98 - 01:06 PM

Here's an old file I dug up.

"A Taylor was no man" was proverbial, and they were said to be a match only for a louse. Here from the Bannatyne MS is:

[Question]
Betuix twa foxis / a crawing cok
Betuix twa freiris / a maid in hir smok
Betuix twa cattis / A Mowiss
Betuix twa telyeoris / A Lowiss
schaw me gud ser not as a stranger
quhilk of thais four is grittest in denger.

Anser
ffoxis ar fell At crawing cokkis
ffreiris are ferss At maidis in thair smokkis
Cattis ar cawtelus in taking of myuss
Telyeoris ar tyrranis in kelling of Lyiss

Cf. the ballads in the 17th century, John Taylors' "A dreadful Battle between a Taylor and a Louse" and "The War-like Taylor", and a later 18th century reworking as "A Bloody Battle between a Taylor and a Louse". I have heard a traditional version of the latter with the louse changed to a mouse. Taylors took it on the chin in many other ballads also. "In "Benjamin Bowmaneer" in DT the tailor's louse got turned into a flea.

Subject: RE: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: Bruce O.
Date: 21 Feb 98 - 12:35 PM

Search my internet broadside ballad index louse. Note 3 different versions of "The Taylor and the louse", the latest version of which has been collected as a traditional song (with mouse replacing louse). There is another there about a six legged creature. I think I also pointed out some other related drollery songs. 'A Taylor/Tailor is no man' was proverbial, and the only suitable creature who he was a match for in a fight was a louse. There another related song that I think is in DT, I'll go look it up.

Subject: RE: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: rich r
Date: 21 Feb 98 - 11:15 AM

Bruce this is great! I have a separate notebook with "insect" songs, and this is one I have not seen (There are certainly many others I haven't found). I do insect DNA/genetics research which explains how I got into the six-legged branch of folk music.

rich r

Subject: Song Add: Cricket, no Seagulls
From: Bruce O.
Date: 20 Feb 98 - 05:11 PM

The Cricket and Crab-Louse

TUNE - Derry, Down, Down. [DT-DERRYDWN]

As a crab-louse and flea went a hunting together,
They took shade in a rose from the heat of the weather;
This rose being fairer by far than the rest,
Was pluck'd by a lady and stuck in her breast.

These hunters, perceiving a fair, open track,
'Twixt two hills white as snow, took the road to her back;
Then descending all day, reach'd the valley by night,
Oh ho! says the flea, here's an inn, I'll alight.

And I, says the crab-louse, will pass through this gap,
And, without the expense of an inn, take my nap;
I see a small hovel, and at it I'll stay,
So onward he jogged, to go sleep in the hay.

Thus possess'd of the settlements, back and frontier,
They hoped from encroachments to keep themselves clear;
But both climate and foe had combin'd to annoy,
Nor would grant them a day their domains to enjoy.

For scarce had he taken one sip at his claret
When the tenement shook from cellar to garret;
Then a strange rumbling noise thro' the passage did roar,
Which drove the poor tippler behind the street door.

A sultry shower succeeded this storm,
Which drove him all drenched, like a hare from its form,
Thro' the smoking wet grass he was glad for to run,
And swore, while he liv'd, that damned inn he would shun.

In the morning he meets with the crab-louse, his friend,
And relates his adventure, and soon makes and end;
Now, with me, says the crab, still worse fortune took place;
When I tell you my sufferings you'll pity my case.

In the midst of my hay I discover'd a cave,
As deep as a coal-pit, as dark as a grave;
With black thorns, and brambles all growing about;
So I feared to go in, lest I should not get out.

Soon a giant approache'd me, a Cyclops, I ween,
For only one eye in his forehead was seen,
Who drove me from brier to bramble, full sore;
Then entering himself, he thrust me in before.

Tho' wide was the cave, he could hardly get in,
So in forcing the passage, he rubb'd off the skin;
Then he strain'd and he swell'd, and still bigger he grew,
Till forth from his forehead his brains at me flew.

Now the fray at an end, like a half-drowned mole,
I crept to the top, to peep out my hole;
And there I perceiv'd all at once with surprise,
This giant was sunk to a pigmean size.

So I slily slipt by, overjoy'd to escape,
For I dreaded him still, tho' so alter'd in shape;
And here I am come in the pickle you see,
And the devil himself may go lodge there for me.

Tho' if I might advise it, these borders he'll shun,
Where he'll meet with a giant, as sure as a gun,
Who vaulting our blades, nor of bullets a ---
Like the Romans, attacks with a huge battering-ram.

For just as I passed him, I saw at his back,
Two large ponderous paving-stones tied in a sack;
Ay, ay, cried the flea, that same sack did I see,
For oftimes with great vengeance he bang'd it at me.

But I manag'd so well that I kept out of reach
Of this terrible engine that batters in breach;
And now that these perils are over our heads,
I hope that we may peaceably die in our beds.

This song appeared in the 'Festival of Anacreon', 1789, and 'The Charms of Chearfullness' the same year, and appeared in the 1825, Dublin, edition of 'The Merry Muses'. I suspect it was inspired by "The Lowse's Peregrination" in the first of the drolleries, 'Musarum Deliciae', 1655.