The Barnum & Bailey Greatest Show on Earth songster

CHORUS. They are the best friends of all, No matter whate’er may befall, The comfort of his life, His children and his wife-- They are the best friends of all.

Now it makes his bosom glad, when the children run to dad, For then he has a romp with girls and boys; While his tender, watchful mate, smiling, greets him at the gate, Prepared to share his sorrows and his joys; And in illness or in health, and in poverty or wealth, When climbing up the hill or going down, There’s a kindly, loving smile, to greet him all the while, And even brighten fortune’s cruel frown.--CHORUS.

Then when he is growing gray, as he journeys on his way, And Time has slightly bent his stalwart form; Tho’ his spirit may be bold, still with hearts of purest gold, They hasten to protect him from life’s storm-- His old wife, with face so bright, is to him a ray of light, That with the children fills his home with love; ’Tis their pleasure and their pride, to be ever at his side, Until he’s called to higher realms above.--CHORUS.

Copyright, 1893, by FRANK TOUSEY. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 20 cents. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.

ONLY A LITTLE YALLER DOG.

By Felix McGlennon.

I will tell you a tale of a little yaller dog, And he only was so high; As ugly a dog as you ever did see, And he only had one eye. His legs were bandy and his ears were cropped, His tail had a curl at the end, But I’ll tell you straight, that little yaller dog Was a true and faithful friend.

CHORUS.--He was only a little yaller, yaller dog, The ugliest in all the land, But I’d sooner have a wag from that little dog’s tail, Than the grip of a false friend’s hand.

To the diggings I went with my little yaller dog, For he would not be denied, By day he would hang ’round the claim where I worked, And at night slept by my side. When luck was out, and when the food was scarce, My courage would nearly fail, But he’d comfort me with his joyous little bark And a wag of his little tail.--CHORUS.

After years of toil, I a mighty nugget found, And I buried it where I slept, But one stormy night, as I slumbered so deep, ’Neath my tent a dim form crept-- ’Twas my false friend Jim, and he on murder was bent, His hand held a gleaming knife, I awoke with a start, to see that yellow dog Grip his throat, and save my life.--CHORUS.

Copyright, 1893, by FRANK TOUSEY. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 20 cents. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.

THE SHIP I LOVE.

By Felix McGlennon.

A gallant ship was lab’ring, Lab’ring in the sea; The captain stood amongst his crew, “Gather ’round!” said he. “The ship is doomed and sinking, There on the lee is land, Then launch the boats and pull away, But here at my post I’ll stand. Good-bye, my lads, good-bye! Good-bye, my lads, good-bye!”

CHORUS. I’ll stick to the ship, lads, you save your lives, I’ve no one to love me, you’ve children and wives; You take to the boats, lads, praying to heaven above, While I’ll go down in the angry deep with the ship I love.

The crew stood hesitating, Their hearts were staunch and true; With tear-dimmed eyes spoke up the mate, “Sir, we will die with you!” The captain cried, “What! Mutiny! I am the captain here! So launch the boats and pull away, And think of your children dear. Good-bye, my lads, good-bye! Good-bye, my lads, good-bye!”--CHORUS.

The fierce winds howl ’round the sinking wreck, And the captain stands on the wave-washed deck; The good ship struggles like a thing of life, And the timbers groan in the awful strife; Slowly, slowly, sinking is she, But the captain, brave--ah, where is he? Down he goes to a sailor’s grave, As his last words are wafted across the wave: “Good-bye, my lads, good-bye! Good-bye, my lads, good-bye!”--CHORUS.

Copyright, 1893, by FRANK TOUSEY. Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London, England. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 25 cents. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.

THE OLD, OLD FRIENDS, IN THE OLD, OLD HOME.

Composed by Felix McGlennon.

In my wand’ring dreams, oft to me it seems, I can see the dear old home of youth; Fields and pleasant glade, where so oft I’ve played, Home of beauty, virtue, love and truth. Many years have passed since I saw it last, Since I went in foreign lands to roam; And where’er I be, still I love to see Faces of my dear old friends at home.

CHORUS. Oh! the old, old friends, in the old, old home, Are they thinking of the wand’rer o’er the foam? There’s a vacant chair, and I’ll soon be there, In the old, old home!

O’er the distant years, thro’ a mist of tears, I recall my mother fond and true; “Good-bye, darling Jack, you will soon come back,” Thus with broken voice she bade adieu. Ah! the sad good-byes, tears were in all eyes, As once more I gripped each friendly hand; Do they think of me, far across the sea, Striving, toiling in a foreign land?--CHORUS.

Once again I see faces dear to me, Longing for the wanderer’s return; O’er the boundless tide, by the old fireside Once again to be my heart doth yearn, Back to home and friends, there my journey ends, Soon again I’ll see my native shore; Loving hearts will greet when at length we meet, Meet to part on earth, ah! never more.--CHORUS.

Copyright, 1892, by FRANK TOUSEY. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 20 cents. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.

DOWN AT THE FARM-YARD GATE.

By Felix McGlennon.

Johnny Green once used to wait for his girl, Down at the farm-yard gate! With his whiskers trimm’d and a nice little curl, Down at the farm-yard gate! He would sit on the gate and he’d cry “Chuckoo! ’Aint you coming out, darling? do love, do, For my toes is cold and my nose is blue,” Down at the farm-yard gate!

CHORUS. Oh, that farm-yard gate! Johnny was there, early and late, Whistling and singing, Are you coming out, Kate? Down at the farm-yard gate!

She would come out and they both would sing, Down at the farm-yard gate! And he then would talk like a silly thing, Down at the farm-yard gate! They would sit there for hours and they’d whisper low, Then her dad would come out and he’d laugh, Ho! ho! Then Johnny had to sit on the old man’s toe, Down at the farm-yard gate!--CHORUS.

Now Kate’s little brother once took some tar Down to the farm-yard gate! And he spread it all over the topmost bar, Down at the farm-yard gate! Now Johnny sat there, and he said “My duck,” And Kate sat there and she said “Chuck-chuck,” And they had to sit there for they both had stuck Down at the farm-yard gate!--CHORUS.

Those lovers ne’er speak now as they pass by, Down to the farm-yard gate! If you go there you’ll find out the reason why, Down at the farm-yard gate! You’ll see a bustle if you’re not blind, A portion of pants you will also find, It’s the part that he used to wear behind, Down at the farm-yard gate!--CHORUS.

Copyright, 1893, by FRANK TOUSEY. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 25 cents. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.

SHE LEFT THE MAN WHO LOVED HER FOR ANOTHER.

Words and music by George Bruce and Felix McGlennon.

In a little country village Lived a farmer and his wife, She was young and rich with beauty, Sunshine of her husband’s life; But the snake crept in his Eden, In the guise of trusted friend,

And the dreams fond love had cherished, Came they to a fatal end; One night when he reached his homestead, His fond heart was turned to stone, She, the wife he loved so dearly, With his dearest friend had flown!

CHORUS. She left the man who loved her for another, She was the sunshine of his life; Her vows of faith and duty she’d forgotten, Broke the link that made them man and wife!

In a handsome furnished chamber Stand betrayer and betrayed; He is scornful; she is pleading; Ah! what havoc Time has made! She is white-faced, trembling, hopeless, And she feels dishonor’s shame, For the man who stands before her, She has ruined a husband’s name; He, grown weary of his victim, Says, “’Tis better we should part!” In his soul there is no pity For her crushed and breaking heart.--CHORUS.

In the streets of a great city, One cold, bitter winter’s night, On a door-step lies a woman, ’Round her fall the snowflakes white; By her side a man is kneeling, “Mary!” is his bitter cry-- “You for months I have been seeking, Now I’ve found you, do not die!” Hear her pleading for forgiveness, As he clasps her to his breast, Just one kiss, one murmured “good-bye!” And her soul in death finds rest.--CHORUS.

Copyright, 1892, by FRANK TOUSEY. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 20 cents. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.

SCENES FROM THE DRAMA OF LIFE.

Written by Norton Atkins. Composed by Felix McGlennon.

Life is but a mighty drama, Wherein each must play a part; Some with happy, smiling features, Others with an aching heart. When night falls upon the city, See a man with darken’d face, He’s a burglar and his object Breaking in this rich man’s place.

CHORUS. See with what vigor his “jimmy” he plies, Leaps thro’ the window, “Now for it!” he cries, “Hark! what is that? an alarm, a surprise,” He mutters with terror now rife. Then comes a flash, a report of a gun, A man on his knees crying, “What have I done! Oh God! I have kill’d him, the scapegrace, my son!” That’s a scene from the Drama of Life!

’Tis the gory field of battle, Where the conflict rages high, And the two opposing armies Now have sworn to do or die. See this brave young private soldier, ’Mid the crash of shot and shell, He has proved himself a hero, Bravely he has fought and well.

CHORUS. Wounded he lies when the battle is o’er, Thinking of those on a far-distant shore, Thinking of those he will see never more, Thinking of his children and wife. “Merciful God! who is Great and All-wise, Save them from danger!” he tearfully cries, One murmur’d prayer and he falls back and dies, That’s a scene from the Drama of Life!

Copyright, 1894, by FRANK TOUSEY. Entered at Stationers’ Hall, London, England. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 20 cents. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.

ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS.

Words by George Horncastle. Music by Felix McGlennon.

Just upon the stroke of midnight, See a man walk down the street, He for work all day has hunted, Is heart-broken, sore of feet; He looks for a lowly lodging, When there comes a piteous cry From a woman, “I am starving, Help me, sir, or I shall die!”

CHORUS. He thinks of that coin, his night’s lodging ’twill pay, Then looks on that face and its tresses so gray, Then in charity gives his last penny away, Actions speak louder than words.

From the club at early morning, Someone’s husband’s just come home, He’s been gone six hours and over, Went out for ten minutes’ roam; Thus he’s greeted by his spousey: “Where have you been all the night? Can’t you speak, you helpless idiot? Tell me, are you speechless tight?”

CHORUS. He gives a sly wink, then he throws down his hat, Tries to pull off his boots, then he tumbles down flat, Hangs his watch on the floor, goes to sleep on the cat, Actions speak louder than words.

Copyright, 1891, by FRANK TOUSEY. Entered at Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C., U. S. A., and Stationer’s Hall, London, England. The complete words and music of this song will be sent by mail for 10 cents. Address, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. Catalogues sent free upon application.

Transcriber’s Notes

Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.

Italics are represented thus _italic_.