The Lumber Camp Song
( " The Shanty Boy's Song " )
1 Now, boys, if you will listen, I will sing to you a song,
It's all about the shanty-boys and how they get along;
They are a jovial set of boys, so merry and so fine,
They spend a pleasant winter in cutting down the pine.
2 Some will leave their homes and friends whom they love dear,
And for the lonesome pine woods their pathway they will steer;
They are going to the pine woods, all winter to remain,
Awaiting for the springtime ere they return again.
3 There are farmers, and sailors, likewise mechanics, too,
And all sorts of tradesmen, found with a lumber crew;
The choppers and the sawyers, they lay the timber-low,
While the swampers and the skidders, they haul it to and fro.
4 Noon time rolls around, the foreman loudly screams,
" Lay down your saws and axes, boys, and haste to pork and beans! "
Arrived at the shanty, the splashing does begin;
There's the rattle of the waterpail, and the banging of the tin.
5 It is, " Hurry in, my boys! you, Tom, Dick or Joe,
For you must take the pail and for some water go! "
The cook he halloos, " Dinner! " they all get up and go.
It's not the style of a shanty boy to miss his pie, you know.
6 Dinner being over, to their shanty they all go;
They all load up their pipes, and smoke till all is blue.
" It's time you were out, boys, " the foreman soon will say.
They all take up their hats and mitts, to the woods they haste away.
7 Oh, each goes out with cheerful heart, and with contented mind,
For wintry winds do not blow cold among the waving pine;
Loudly their axes ring, until the sun goes down.
" Hurrah! my boys, the day is done, for the shanty we are bound. "
8 Arrived at the shanty, with wet and cold feet,
They off with their boots and packs, for supper they must eat;
The cook, he halloos " Supper! " they all get up and go,
It's not the style of a shanty boy to miss his hash, you know.
9 The boots, the packs, the rubbers, are all thrown to one side.
The mitts, the socks, the rags, are all hung up and dried;
At nine o'clock or thereabouts, into their bunks they crawl,
To sleep away the few short hours until the morning call.
10 At four o'clock next morning, the foreman loudly shouts:
" Hurrah, there! you teamsters, 'tis time that you were out! "
The teamsters they get up, all in a fretful way.
Says one, " I've lost my boot-packs, and my socks have gone astray! "
11 The choppers they get up, and their socks they cannot find.
They lay it to the teamsters, and curse them in their mind.
One says, " I've lost my socks — I don't know what to do. "
Another has lost his boot-packs, and he is ruined, too.
12 Springtime rolls around; the foreman he will say:
" Lay down your saws and axes, boys, and haste to break the way. "
And when the floating ice goes out, in business we'll thrive.
Hundreds of able-bodied men are wanted on the drive.
1 Now, boys, if you will listen, I will sing to you a song,
It's all about the shanty-boys and how they get along;
They are a jovial set of boys, so merry and so fine,
They spend a pleasant winter in cutting down the pine.
2 Some will leave their homes and friends whom they love dear,
And for the lonesome pine woods their pathway they will steer;
They are going to the pine woods, all winter to remain,
Awaiting for the springtime ere they return again.
3 There are farmers, and sailors, likewise mechanics, too,
And all sorts of tradesmen, found with a lumber crew;
The choppers and the sawyers, they lay the timber-low,
While the swampers and the skidders, they haul it to and fro.
4 Noon time rolls around, the foreman loudly screams,
" Lay down your saws and axes, boys, and haste to pork and beans! "
Arrived at the shanty, the splashing does begin;
There's the rattle of the waterpail, and the banging of the tin.
5 It is, " Hurry in, my boys! you, Tom, Dick or Joe,
For you must take the pail and for some water go! "
The cook he halloos, " Dinner! " they all get up and go.
It's not the style of a shanty boy to miss his pie, you know.
6 Dinner being over, to their shanty they all go;
They all load up their pipes, and smoke till all is blue.
" It's time you were out, boys, " the foreman soon will say.
They all take up their hats and mitts, to the woods they haste away.
7 Oh, each goes out with cheerful heart, and with contented mind,
For wintry winds do not blow cold among the waving pine;
Loudly their axes ring, until the sun goes down.
" Hurrah! my boys, the day is done, for the shanty we are bound. "
8 Arrived at the shanty, with wet and cold feet,
They off with their boots and packs, for supper they must eat;
The cook, he halloos " Supper! " they all get up and go,
It's not the style of a shanty boy to miss his hash, you know.
9 The boots, the packs, the rubbers, are all thrown to one side.
The mitts, the socks, the rags, are all hung up and dried;
At nine o'clock or thereabouts, into their bunks they crawl,
To sleep away the few short hours until the morning call.
10 At four o'clock next morning, the foreman loudly shouts:
" Hurrah, there! you teamsters, 'tis time that you were out! "
The teamsters they get up, all in a fretful way.
Says one, " I've lost my boot-packs, and my socks have gone astray! "
11 The choppers they get up, and their socks they cannot find.
They lay it to the teamsters, and curse them in their mind.
One says, " I've lost my socks — I don't know what to do. "
Another has lost his boot-packs, and he is ruined, too.
12 Springtime rolls around; the foreman he will say:
" Lay down your saws and axes, boys, and haste to break the way. "
And when the floating ice goes out, in business we'll thrive.
Hundreds of able-bodied men are wanted on the drive.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.