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Dad's Dinner Pail and Other Songs From the Helen Hartness Flanders Collection

by Debra Cowan

Bold Richard 05:12
One Sunday morning as I've heard say Young Richard he mounted his dobbin grey And over the fields he rode a lee A courtin’ the parson’s daughter Jean With your rumbledum dumble dum doddikan day Young Richard he put on his Sunday clothes His buckskin trousers and silken hose And a brand new hat upon his head Was all bedecked with ribbons of red Young Richard he rode without any fear ‘til he came to the hall in his own good cheer Then he upped and shouted Hullo! Hullo! Be the folks at home? Say yes or no!' The servants quickly let Dick in So that his courting might begin But when he got him inside the hall He loudly for Miss Jean did bawl Miss Jean come down without delay What you young Richard have got for to say? Says he I suppose you know, Miss Jean That I am Young Richard of Taunton Dean I’m an honest man yet I be poor And I’ve never been in love before But my father he sent me out for to woo And I could fancy none but you Oh if I consent to be your bride Pray how for me will you provide? I’ll give you all I have I’m sure And what could a poor fellow do for you more For I’ve a pig poked up in a sty As Granny did give me when she did die And if you consent to marry me now My father will give us a fine fat sow For I can reap and I can sow And I can plow and I can mow And I go to market with father’s hay, And earn my ninepence every day Oh nine pence a day would never do For I must have silks and satins, too 'Twould never do for you and I 'Ah come' says Richard 'I can but try' Dick's compliments did so delight, They made the family laugh outright. And when he got no more of they He gave her a kiss and he rode away
A new ship lies anchored in the bay While the captain and mate did dine And hearty was the grog that filled their mugs But one thing disturbed their minds At the mariners’ inn while they both sat in and they thought it quite unkind For amid their cheers they would often hear A walloping window blind Chorus: So blow you winds high ho A roving I will go I’ll stay no more on England’s shore So let the music play I’m off on the morning train I’ll cross the raging main For I’m off to my love with the boxing gloves Ten thousand miles away Said the captain to the mate it must be fate For our ship is un-named you know And the walloping blind disturbs my mind When the raging winds doth blow To hell with fate said the sturdy mate Such trifles we will not mind O'er the waves we’ll skip and we’ll name our ship The Walloping Window Blind Now a capitol ship for an ocean trip Is the Walloping Window Blind No gale that blew disturbed her crew Or troubled the captain’s mind The man at the wheel was said to feel Contempt for the wind that blow. For it often appeared when the gale had cleared That he'd been in his bunk below. The bosun and the mate were very sedate, Yet fond of amusement too; So they played hopscotch with the starboard watch While the captain tickled the crew. And the gunner we had was apparently mad For he'd sit on the after-rail, And fire salutes with the captain's boots In the teeth of a blowing gale.
Young Charlotte lived by the mountainside, in a lone and dreary spot spot No dwelling there for five miles 'round, except her father's cot Yet on many a winter's night, young swains would gather there For her father kept a social board and she was very fair Her father loved to see her dressed, fine as a city belle For she was the only child he had and he loved his daughter well 'Twas New Year's Eve, the sun went down, wild looked her anxious eye Along the frosty window pane to see the sleighs pass by At the village inn, fifteen miles round, there's a merry ball tonight The air is freezing cold above, but the hearts are warm and light And While she looked with longing eyes, then a well known voice she hears And dashing up to the cottage door, young Charlie's sleigh appears Her mother says, “My daughter dear, this blanket round you fold For it is a dreadful night abroad you'll take your death of cold" "Oh no! Oh no!" young Charlotte said and she laughed like a gypsy queen: "For to ride in blankets muffled up, I never could be seen" My silken cloak is quite enough, 'T is lined you know, throughout, And then I have a silken scarf, to tie my face about" Her gloves and bonnet being on, she jumped into the sleigh And away they ride o'er the mountainside and o'er the hills away There merry music in the bells, as o'er the hills they go What a creaking rake the runners make, as they bite the frozen snow Then o'er the hills and faster o'er, and by the cold starlight When Charles in these frozen words, at last the silence broke Such a night as this I never knew, the reins I scarce can hold When Charlotte, shivering, faintly said, "I am exceedingly cold" He cracked his whip and urged his team, more swiftly than before Until five other dreary mile, in silence were passed o'er "O see," said Charles, "How fast the frost is gathering on my brow" when Charlotte in a feeble voice said, "I am growing warmer now" And on they ride through the frosty air and the glittering cold starlight Until at last the village inn, and ballroom are in sight They reached the inn and Charles jumped out and held his arms to her "Why sit you like a monument, without the power to stir?" He called her once, he called her twice, she answered not a word He called her by her name again, but still she never stirred He took her hand in his, O God, 'twas cold and hard as stone He tore the mantle from her brow and on her the cold stars shone, And then into the lighted hall, her lifeless fore he bore For Charlotte was a frozen corpse and words spoke never more He sat himself down by her side and the bitter tears did flow And he said, "My young intended bride, I nevermore shall know" He threw his arms around her neck and kissed her marble brow And his thoughts went back to where she said, "I'm growing warmer now" He bore her out into the sleigh and with her he drove home And when he reached the cottage door, oh how her parents mourned They mourned the loss of their daughter, dear, while Charles mourned o'er their gloom Until with grief his heart did break and they slumber in one To
Three ladies played at cup and ball With a hey and a lady gay Three knights there came among them all The rose it smells so sweetly And one of them was dressed in red He asked me with him to wed And one of them was dressed in yellow He asked me to be his fellow And one of them was dressed in green He asked me to be his queen O You must ask my father the king And you must ask my mother the queen You must ask my sister Ann And you must ask my brother John O I have asked your father the King And I have asked your mother the Queen And I have asked your sister Ann And I have asked your her brother John Her father the king led her down the hall Her mother the queen led down the stair Her sister Ann led her down the path Her brother John set her on her horse And as she bent to give him a kiss He stuck his penknife into her breast Now up and ride my foremost man My lady fair looks pale and wan And what will you leave to your father the king The golden chair that I sit in And what will you leave to your mother the queen The golden coach that I ride in And what will you leave to your sister Ann My silver broach and ivory fan And what will you leave to your brother John A pair of gallows to hang him on
5. Star In the East (Source-Thomas Armstrong, Moores fork, NY) The words to this hymn were written by Englishman Reginald Heber in 1811. This hymn is also known as “Brightest and Best” and it was originally collected and sung by the Ritchie Family. Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid; Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid. Cold on His cradle the dewdrops are shining; Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall; Angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch and Savior of all! Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, Odors of Edom and offerings divine? Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean, Myrrh from the forest, or gold from the mine? Vainly we offer each ample oblation, Vainly with gifts would His favor secure; Richer by far is the heart’s adoration, Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.
I'll tell you of a soldier who lately came from sea He courted a lady of high frisk o' free Her riches were so great they scarcely could be told But yet she loved the soldier because he was so bold She said my brave soldier I would be your wife But I fear my cruel father will surely take your life He drew his sword and his pistol and he hung them by his side And he swore that he would marry her and let what would betide As they were going to church one day and on returning home again Up steps her cruel father with sevne armored men “Oh then” cries the lady “I fear we shall be slain” Fear nothing, my jewel” the soldier says again Then up stepped the old man in form he did saying “Is this your behaviour or is it your wedding day? Altho you've been as silly as to be a soldier's wife All in this pleasant valley, I will end your sweet life.” Then up stepped the soldier, “I do not like this rattle Altho I am a bridegroom and not prepared for battle.” He drew his sword and pistol and he caused them to rattle The lady held the horse while the soldier fought the battle The first man he came to he soon had him slain. The second one he came to, he served him the same. “Oh run,” cries the rest, “I fear we shall be slain For a fight with a soldier is altogether in vain” “Stay your hand” the old man cries, “Don't carry on so bold. And you can have my daughter and ten thousand pound in gold” “Fight on,” cried the lady, “My portion is too small” “Oh stay your hand,” the old man cried “and you can have it all!” The old man took him home with him and treated him as an heir Tis not because he loved him but it was for dread and fear There never was a soldier twas fit to carry a gun That would either flinch or stir inch 'til the battle he had won Despise not a soldier because he is poor He's as happy on the battlefield as at the barracks door His brave, brisk and bold and sociable and free And willing to fight for his love and for his liberty
There was three sisters picking flowers High and a lee and aloney-O! They scarced but picked but one or two On the Burly Burly Banks of Barbry-O It's there they spied a bank robber bold It's there they spied a bank robber bold He took the oldest by the hand He hurled her 'round he made her stand Saying will you be a bank robber's wife Or will you die by my penknife No I shan't be a bank robber's wife I'd rather die by your penkife Then he took out his penknife And there he ended her sweet life He took the next one by her hand He hurled her 'round he made her stand Saying will you be a bank robber's wife Or will you die by my penknife No I shan't be a bank robber's wife I'd rather die by your penkife Then he took out his penknife And there he ended her sweet life He took the youngest by her hand He hurled her 'round he made her stand Saying will you be a bank robber's wife Or will you die by my penknife Yes I will be a bank robber's wife So I shan't die by your penknife Oh dear I wish my two brothers was here You would not have killed my sisters dear Oh what would your two brothers do One was a minister, the other such as you. ‘What was your two brothers’ names?’ One was John, the other was James.’ Oh, what is this that I have done? I have killed my sisters, all but one. And now I’ll take out my penknife, And here I’ll end my own sweet life
(Albert Howard, Orford, NH) This song, which is native to Massachusetts, is based on a true story. On September 1, 1871 the EA Horton a Goucester-based schooner was captured by Canadian authorities in Nove Scotia for fishing inside the three mile limit. She was stripped of her sails and secured to a wharf where she was held until a court of custody was convened to decide the case. Capt. Harvey Knowlton, also a part-owner of the vessel decided that he wanted the ship back. He pretended to return to Cape Ann, but instead headed for Canso, N.S. three weeks later. There, in the home of a notorious smuggler, plans were laid to recapture the schooner. He gathered together a crew and on October 8th, at 2:30 a.m., the Horton was water-born and made her way back to Gloucester, where she arrived on Oct. 18th to cries of “The Horton's in! The Horton's in!” Come all you sons of Uncle Sam, come listen to me awhile And I'll tell you of a capture that was made in Yankee style 'Twas the Schooner E.A. Horton in the British harbor lie She was shaken by "The Sweepstakes" while cruising in disguise Our treaties they've rejected and our governments defied It's now you've stole our fishermen so Johnnies, mind yer eye. 'Twas the thirteenth day of October in the year of sixty-one Brave Knowlton and his comrades, the day it was begun While the British thick-skulls were sleepin' with red ruin on their brain We stole away our fishermen and brought her back again Our treaties they've rejected and our governments defied It's now you've stole our fishermen so Johnnies, mind yer eye. Says brave Knowlton to his comrades, "If you will follow me We'll have the Horton home again whate'er the cost may be We'll stick to one another like brothers just as true And we'll show those Yankee thievish-men what Yankee lads can do" Our treaties they've rejected and our governments defied It's now you've stole our fishermen so Johnnies, mind yer eye. 'Twas early in the next morning the news did spread about They found the gold prospector with the Horton had stepped out The news began to penetrate the British skulls so thick They finally did acknowledge 'twas a bold and Yankee trick Our treaties they've rejected and our governments defied It's now you've stole our fishermen so Johnnies, mind yer eye. Now boys, there is a jolly time in Glou-cester tonight For heavy guns are firing and torches burning bright The band plays, "Yankee Doodle" and the voices loudly ring For the Yankee boys are shouting that the Horton has got in Our treaties they've rejected and our governments defied It's now you've stole our fishermen so Johnnies, mind yer eye. Now you Dominion Canaday, I warn you to beware You better sign the treatie and settle this affair And always do to others as you'll have 'em do to you And don't try to treat your neighbor like old Johnnie tried to do Our treaties they've rejected and our governments defied It's now you've stole our fishermen so Johnnies, mind yer eye.
My tender parents brought me up Provided for me well And in the town of Oxford Employed me in the mill I did not like my master He did not use me well I formed a resolution Not long with him to dwell Unbeknowing to my parents I vowed I'd run away I steered my course for Holland And cursed be that day! While on my way to Holland A lady met me there She offered me great wages To drive her coach one year Unbeknowing to my promises At length I did agree To drive her coach to Holland Which proved my destiny I had not been in Holland But scarce two months or three When my unworthy mistress Became very fond of me She said her gold and silver Her houses and her land If I'd concent to marry her Would be at my command Excuse me, dearest mistress I must now tell you bold I have already promised And took a salamo To wed with charming Sally Your handsome chambermaid Excuse me now, dear mistress My heart she has betrayed And early the next morning Just at the break of day I saw my unworthy mistress A-viewing the flowers gay A ring from her forefinger Just as I was passing by She dropped it in my pocket And for the same I die Long time I did feel guiltless But that was all in vain They swore so hard against me That I was sent to jail From jail to execution They dragged me to a tree Come all that stands around me My cruel fate you see Don't glory in my downfall But pray do pity me They wrapped a rope around my neck And hung me from that tree Farewell, my tender parents I bid this world adieu Farewell, my my charming Sally I died for love, nor you
Head of thy church triumphant, We joyfully adore thee Till thou appear, thy members here Shall sing like those in glory. We lift our hearts and voices with blest anticipation, And cry aloud, And give to God The praise of our salvation. Thou dost conduct thy people Through torrents of temptation, Nor will we fear, While thou art near, The fire of tribulation. And if thou count us worthy, We each, as dying Stephen, Shall see thee stand, At God's right hand, To take us home to glory By faith we see the glory To which thou shalt restore us, The cross despise, For that high prize Which thou hast set before us. And if thou count us worthy, We each, as dying Stephen, Shall see thee stand, At God's right hand, To take us home to glory
Preserve that old kettle, so black and so worn; It belonged to my father before I was born; It hung in a corner beyond on a nail 'Twas the emblem of labor, my dad's dinner pail CHORUS: For it glistened like silver, so sparkling and bright; I am fond of the trifle that held his wee bite; In summer or winter, in snow, rain or hail, I've carried that kettle, my dad's dinner pail. When the bell rang for mealtime my father'd come down — He'd eat with the workmen about on the ground; He'd share with the laborer and he'd go the bail, You'd never reach the bottom of dad's dinner pail. CHORUS If the day should be rainy my fathe'd stop home, And he'd polish his kettle as clane as a stone; He'd joke with my mother and me he would whale If I put a finger on dad's dinner pail. CHORUS There's a place for the coffee and also for bread, The corned beef and praties, and oft it was said: "Go fill it with porter, with beer or with ale;" The drink would taste sweeter from dad's dinner pail. CHORUS


Co-produced with composer and guitarist Michael DeLalla, the
renowned singer breathes new life into eleven traditional songs from
the Flanders Song Collection in an elegant dance with Michael's
exquisite guitar settings, always delivered with reverence for the
song. Dad's Dinner Pail also features Falling Mountaineers Tabby
Finch (The Bog Wanderers) on hammered dulcimer and accordion,
Chas Fowler (The Unfortunate Rakes) on whistle, and Joe DeZarn
(The Bog Wanderers) on fiddle, Ralph Gordon on cello and bass, and
guest appearances from acclaimed singer John Roberts (Roberts
and Barrand, Nowell Sing We Clear) lending his voice to two hymns,
"Fearless In the Fire" and "Star In the East". Highlights include
Michael's beautiful guitar arrangements in songs such as "Bold
Richard" and Debra's gloriously nested three-part harmony vocals on
"The Poor Soldier".


released July 26, 2005

Produced by Debra Cowan and Michael Delalla
Recorded and Mixed at Falling Mountain Studios by Michael DeLalla
Graphics by Richard Brooker
Mastered by Charlie Pilzer at Airshow Mastering


all rights reserved



Debra Cowan Shrewsbury, Massachusetts

Singer Debra Cowan performs a cappella and with guitar, interpreting a wide range of folk songs. Debra has two acclaimed solo recordings to her credit, and her third, “Fond Desire Farewell” was produced by former Fairport Convention drummer Dave Mattacks. A former California resident, she now resides in Massachusetts and tours all over North America and the United Kingdom. ... more

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