This album contains a sampling of the many folk songs and ballads which— as the title implies— have to do with unrequited love and futile courtships or romantic experiences of one form or another. Some of the songs are variants of traditional British and French folk songs, while others belong to the "New World".

Vive La Canadienne (folk song)

Jacques Labreque; 1:52 [Track 1, side A] file: CFS901.mp3

Probably the most popular party song of French-speaking Canadians, this lively dance-tune was adapted from an older folk song, but its verses are native to Canada, apart from the phrase "Vole, mon coeur, vole". The song starts off by paying tribute to the charms of French-Canadian girls and then goes on to describe a gay wedding party.

Vive la Canadienne!
Vole, mon coeur, vole!
Vive la Canadienne
Et ses jolies yeux doux,
Et ses jolis yeux doux, doux, doux,
Et ses jolis yeux doux.
Nous la menons aux noces,
Vole, mon coeur, vole!
Nous la menons aux noces
Dans tous ses beaux atours,
Dans tous ses beaux atours, 'tours, 'tours,
Dans tous ses beaux atours.

On danse avec nos blondes,
Vole, mon coeur, vole!
On danse avec nos blondes;
Nous changeons tour à tour,
Nous changeons tour à tour, tour, tour,
Nous changeons tour à tour.

Ainsi le temps se passe,
Vole, mon coeur, vole!
Ainsi le temps se passe:
Il est vraiment bien doux!
Il est vraiment bien doux, doux, doux,
Il est vraiment bien doux! :

The Feller from Fortune (folk song)

Tom Kines; 2:27 [Track 2, side A] file: CFS902.mp3

This is a favourite Newfoundland dancing song, also known as "Lot O'Fish in Bonavist' Harbor", and it concerns— among other things— a girl named Sally who becomes amorously involved with a handsome young fisherman identified only as "The Feller from Fortune".

Oh, there's lots of fish in Bonavist' Harbour,
Lots of fish right in around here;
Boys and girls are fishin' together,
Forty-five from Carbonear.

Oh, catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Swing around this one, dance around she;
Catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Diddle-dum this one, diddle-dum dee.

Oh, Sally goes to church every Sunday,
Not to sing nor for to hear;
But to see the feller from fortune,
What was down here fishin' last year.

Oh, catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Swing around this one, dance around she;
Catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Diddle-dum this one, diddle-dum dee.

Oh, Uncle George got up in the mornin',
He got up in a hell of a tear;
And he ripped the seat right out of his britches,
Now he's got ne'er a pair to wear.

Oh, catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Swing around this one, dance around she;
Catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Diddle-dum this one, diddle-dum dee.

Oh, Sally is the pride of Cat Harbour,
She ain't been swung since 'way last year;
Drinkin' rum and wine and cassie,
What the boys brought home from St. Pierre.

Oh, catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Swing around this one, dance around she;
Catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Diddle-dum this one, diddle-dum dee.

Oh, Sally got a bouncin' new baby,
Father said that he didn't care;
Because he liked the feller from fortune,
What was down here fishin' last year.

Oh, catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Swing around this one, dance around she;
Catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Diddle-dum this one, diddle-dum dee.

Ah, Si Mon Moine Voulait Danser! (folk song)

Louise Forestier; 1:59 [Track 3, side A] file: CFS903.mp3

This lively dancing song of Quebec concerns a young lady who tries to entice a monk to dance with her by offering him various inducements, such as a cowl, a sash, a string of prayer beads and a psalter, etc., and she concludes by offering to give him "many othr things" if he hadn't taken the "vow of poverty".

Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!
Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!
Un capuchon je lui donnerais
Un capuchon je lui donnerais

Refrain
Danse, mon moine danse!
Tu n'entends pas la danse
Tu n'entends pas mon moulin, lon la
Tu n'entends pas mon moulin marcher.

Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!
Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!
Un ceinturon je lui donnerais
Un ceinturon je lui donnerais.

Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!
Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!
Un froc de bur' je lui donnerais
Un froc de bur' je lui donnerais.

Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!
Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!
Un beau psautier je lui donnerais
Un beau psautier je lui donnerais.

S'il n'avait fait voeu de pauvreté
S'il n'avait fait voeu de pauvreté
Bien d'autres chose je lui donnerais
Bien d'autres chose je lui donnerais

I's The B'y That Builds The Boat (folk song)

Charles Jordan; 1:38 [Track 4, side A] file: CFS904.mp3

Another "native" dancing song from Newfoundland, this lively ditty is not only a favorite in that province, but has become quite popular in other parts of Canada, especially in the schools. Despite its gay tune and amusing verses, the the latter are not without some revealing comment on economic and social conditions on the "Island".

I's the b'y that builds the boat,
And I's the b'y that sails her,
I's the b'y that catches the fish,
And takes then home to 'lizer.
Chorus:
Swing your partner, Sally Tibbo,
Swing your partner, Sally Brown,
Fogo, Twillingate, Morton's Harbour,
All around the circle.

Sods and rinds to cover your flake,
Cake and tea for supper,
Codfish in the spring o' the year,
Fried in maggoty butter!

I don't want your maggoty fish,
That's no good for winter.
I could buy as good as that,
Down in Bonavista

I took 'Lizer to a dance,
And faith, but she could travel!
And every step that she did take
Was up to her knees in gravel!

Susan White, she's out of sight,
Her petticoat wants a border,
Old Sam Oliver in the dark
He kissed her in the corner!

M'en Revenant De St-André (folk song)

Raoul Roy; 1:48 [Track 5, side A] file: CFS905.mp3

This is a popular drinking-song version of a traditional folk song that has several other variants. The story concerns a girl who meets three handsome "cavaliers" riding along the road, and when they ask her if she knows where they might spend the night, she very hospitably invites them to her home, and offers them a place to sleep in the "poulailler" (chicken coop).

M'en revenant de St-André
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Dans mon chemin, j'ai rencontré

REFRAIN
Mets ton si, mets ton là,
Mets ton pied sur le mien
Mais prends garde de tomber
Voilà du vin qui est à mon aise
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré (bis)

Dans mon chemin, j'ai rencontré
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Trois cavaliers fort bien montés
REFRAIN

Trois cavaliers fort bien montés
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Deux à cheval et l'autre à pied
REFRAIN

Deux à cheval et l'autre à pied
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Celui d'à pied m'a demandé
REFRAIN

Celui d'à pied m'a demandé
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Où irons-nous ce soir coucher?
REFRAIN

Où irons-nous ce soir coucher?
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Chez nous Monsieur si vous voulez
REFRAIN

Chez nous Monsieur si vous voulez
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Vous y trouverez un bon souper
REFRAIN

Vous y trouverez un bon souper
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Et de bons lits pour vous coucher
REFRAIN

Et de bons lits pour vous coucher
Voilà du vin qui est à mon gré
Les cavaliers ont accepté
REFRAIN

The Sauerkraut Song (folk song)

Diane Oxner; 1:39 [Track 6, side A] file: CFS906.mp3

This amusing song, which gives the "Dutch" recipe for making sauerkraut, comes from the boat-building region of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia, where a number of families are of German ancestry. It has all the earmarks of a comical music-hall song of the late 19th Century, and a slightly different version of it is known in some parts of the United States.

The version given here was collected by Dr. Helen Creighton and it is sung in regional dialect.

Verse one
Now if you only listen to ye spake about,
I’m going for to tell ye how to make the sauerkraut,
The kraut’s not made of leather as eff’rey one supposes,
But of that little plant what they call the cabbage roses.

Chorus
Sauerkraut is bully, I told you it is fine,
Me thinks me ought to know ‘em for me eats ‘em all the time.

Verse two
The cabbages are growing so nice as it could be,
We take ‘em and we cut ‘em up the bigger as a pea,
Me put ‘em in a barrel and me stamp ‘em with me feet,
We stamp and we stamp for to make ‘em nice and sweet.

Chorus
Sauerkraut is bully, I told you it is fine,
Me thinks me ought to know ‘em for me eats ‘em all the time.

Verse Three
Me put in plenty of salt so nice, don’t put in no snuff, (sniff, sniff)
Nor any cayenne pepper nor any of that stuff,
Me put ‘em in the cellar ‘til it begins to smell,
So help me twice me thinks it’s nice,
The Dutchmen like it well.

Chorus
Sauerkraut is bully, I told you it is fine,
Me thinks me ought to know ‘em for me eats ‘em all the time.

Verse Four
When the sauerkraut begins to smell and it can smell no smeller,
PEEEEE-YOOOO!!!!!!
We take it from the barrel that’s way down in the cellar,
We put him in the kettle3 and it begins to boil,
So help me we can smell her round for fifty thousand and miles.

Chorus
Sauerkraut is bully, I told you it is fine,
Me thinks me ought to know ‘em for me eats ‘em all the time.

Le Curé De Terrebonne (folk song)

Yves Albert; 1:36 [Track 7, side A] file: CFS907.mp3

This somewhat irreverent song of Quebec tells the amusing tale of a girl who goes to confession and tells her confessor— M'sieur le curé— that her only sin is that she loves men. To obtain pardon, she is required to kiss her confessor and is cautioned not to mention the matter to anyone, whereupon she assures M'sieur le curé—that she will not speak of her "penitence" for fear she would be kept very busy.

Un jour il m'a pris fantaisie, c'est d'aller à confesse
C'est d'aller à confesse au cu- au curé de Terrebonne

{Refrain :}
Réjouissons-nous, chantons maluré, magnificat aux vêpres {x2}

Le curé de terrebonne m'a dit : " qu'avez-vous fait mignonne ? "
Mon père le seul péché qu'j'ai fait c'est d'avoir aimé z'hommes

{au Refrain}

Mon père le seul péché qu'j'ai fait c'est d'avoir aimé z'hommes
Ma fille pour ce péché là, il faut aller à Rome

{au Refrain}

Ma fille pour ce péché là, il faut aller à Rome
Mon père si je vais à Rome, faut-il qu'j'emmène mon homme

{au Refrain}

Mon père si je vais à Rome, faut-il qu'j'emmène mon homme
Embrassez-moi cinq ou six fois, vot' péché j'vous l'pardonne

{au Refrain}

Embrassez-moi cinq ou six fois, vot' péché j'vous l'pardonne
Mais de cette pénitence là n'en parlez à personne

{au Refrain}

Mais de cette pénitence là n'en parlez à personne
Car si le monde le savait, j'aurais bien trop d'besogne

Saskatchewan (folk song)

Alan Mills & group; 2:42 [Track 8, side A] file: CFS908.mp3

This is a serio-comic complaint song of the great depression era of the thirties, a period that was frequently referred to as the "hungry thirties" of the "dirty thirties" in western Canada, where thousand of acres of rich prairie farmland and ranges were transformed into shifting desert by several years of drought, dust-storms and grasshopper plagues, and where many thousands of cattle died for lack of feed.

For the ranchers and farmers of the prairies, as for their counterparts in the American "dust-bowl" to the south, it was the worst period in recent history, and many of them abandoned their parched land to seek a livelihood elsewhere. But most of them subbornly remained, determined to "stick things out" in the hope that the long-needed rain would come and eventually restore he land, as, indeed, it did.

One of the things that help them through the bad times was their sense of humor, which gave them the courage to poke fun at their troubles, as is reflected in this "lament".

The tune of the song was borrowed from the well-known hymn, Beulah Land, and it was sung all through western Canada, as well as in the similarly affected regions of the United States, with different sets of words to suit the different locations.

Dakota Land (an American version of Beulah Land)

We've reached the land of desert sweet,
Where no thing grows for man to eat,
The wind it blows with fev'rish heat
Across the plains so hard to beat,
Oh, Dakota land, Sweet Dakota land,
As on thy fiery soil I stand,
I look across the plains.
And wonder why it never rains.
Till Gabriel blows his trumpet sound,
And says the rain's just gone a round.

We've reached the land of hills and stones
Where all is strewn with buffalo bones
O buffalo bones, bleached buffalo bones
I seem to hear your sighs an moans.

We have no wheat, we have no oats,
We have no corn to feed our shoats.
Our chickens are so very poor
They beg for crumbs outside our door,

Our horses are of broncho race;
Starvation stares them in the face.
We do not live, we only stay
We are too poor to get away.

La Vieille Turlututo (folk song)

Yves Albert; 1:47 [Track 1, side B] file: CFS909.mp3

This amusing song concerns a young fellow who met a "rare old beauty", and when he jokingly asked her for a kiss she tried to hit him. The song has a certain suggestive quality, which is achieved by delaying the ends of sentences, such as:

"The girls of our village have . . . . . pretty petticoats"
"the boys of our village have . . . . . striped trousers!"

Old Grandma (folk song)

Joyce Sullivan; 1:38 [Track 2, side B] file: CFS910.mp3

This is a Canadian variant of an American comical song called "Old Grandad", which purports to describe the early settlement days of the west, when— despite bad times and poor living conditions— "Grandma" brought up 21 healthy boys, laundered their clothes and fed them "21 meals three times a day", and thought nothing of working hard seven days a week, as compared with girls of a later generation, who are "up all night and sleep all day".

1. Old Grandma when the west was new
She wore hoop skirts and bustles too
When infants came and times got bad,
She stuck right on to old Granddad.

2. She worked hard seven days a week
To keep Granddad well-fed and sleek
Twenty-one children came to bless
Their happy home in the wilderness.

3. Twenty-one boys, oh, how they grew!
Big and strong, on bacon, too
They slept on the floor with the sheep and the goats
And they hunted in the woods in their oilskin coats.

4. Twenty-one necks grandma would scrub
Twenty-one shirts in the old washtub
Twenty-one meals three times a day -
It's no wonder Grandma's hair turned grey.

5. Old [Great] Granddad was a busy man
He washed his face in the frying pan
He shaved his beard with a hunting knife
And he wore the same [one] suit all his life.

6. Old [Great] Grandma had a broody hen
She got it from her cousin Ben
In a pair of pants she made a nest
And the hen hatched out a coat and vest.

7. She could make good mountain dew
Homebaked beans and Irish stew
Old granddad [Great Grandpa] once killed a goat
And Grandma made a new fur coat.

8. And what she did was quite all right,
She worked all day and slept all night
But young folk [girls] now they're [are] the other way
They're up all night and they [] sleep all day

Le Bal Chez Boule (folk song)

Jacques Labrecque; 1:31 [Track 3, side B] file: CFS911.mp3

Although this song has a refrain that seems to have been borrowed from a sea-shanty or canoe-paddling song, it is usually sung as a party song in Quebec. It tells the amusing story of a country bumpkin named José Blais, who gets dressed up in his "Sunday-best" to attend a "soirée" at the home of a neighbor, hoping to make an impression on a young lady named Lisette. But the poor fellow is kicked out of the party when it's discovered that he can't dance, and Lisette manages to "console" herself in the company of other young men. The song is sung in "habitant" dialect.

Dimanche après les vêpr's y aura bal chez Boulé
Mais il n'ira personn' que ceux qui sav'nt danser.

REFRAIN:
Vogue marinier vogue, vogue,
Vogue, beau marinier.

Tout l'mond'dansait d'son mieux, on s'faisait pas prier
La fill' de "Jos Via-lon" ne voulut pas danser.
REFRAIN:

Pourquoi n'dansez-vous pas? êt's vous trop fatiguée?
Ou bien avez-vous peur d'user vos beaux souliers?
REFRAIN:

Non, non, ce n'est pas ça, j'ai un p'tit cor au pied,
Je vais me contenter de vous r'garder danser.
REFRAIN:

Tinest, le violoneux, laissait pas l'temps d'souffler,
Pour mettr' ça plus soul'vant, tapait de ses deux pieds.
REFRAIN:

Baptist', qui "câlait l'set", tout tremp' comme un' lavette
S'écria: "Domino! parc' que les femmes on chaud!"
REFRAIN:

Cotton Wool Pie (folk song)

Diane Oxner; 2:27 [Track 4, side B] file: CFS912.mp3

This is a relatively recent "native" song collected in Nova Scotia by Dr. Helen Creighton from a traditional singer named Jack Turple, who made it up, and Dr. Creighton reports that the story it tells is based on a true incident that occurred at a "pie social". At such popular country events, it was customary for young ladies to contribute home-baked pies, and the men who purchased the pies earned the privilege of sharing their choice with whoever baked it.

In this case, two girls had their caps set on getting the same man, and one of them tried to outwit the other by bringing a pie stuffed with cotton-wool which she managed to switch with a proper pie made by her rival. But her plot failed when the "cotton-wool pie" was chosen by someone other than the man she had her eye on.

La Semaine Bachique (folk song)

Raoul Roy; 2:03 [Track 5, side B] file: CFS913.mp3

This is a drinking song concerning a wine-loving "philosopher" who "starts and ends the week with wine" and spends all his money in so doing, believing that it's better to have less money, and to sing, dance, laugh and drink more often.

To men with shrewish wives, he suggests drinking to find them more attractive. As for himself: "I was born with nothing, and I'll die with nothing," and his only wish is that "Providence will save us the cellar and the kitchen"!

Commençons la semaine
Voulez-vous cher voisin ?
Commençons par le vin
Nous finirons de même

Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Chanter, danser, rire et boire
Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Rire et boire plus souvent

On veut me faire accroire
Que je mange mon bien
Mais l'on se trompe bien
Je ne fais que le boire

Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Chanter, danser, rire et boire
Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Rire et boire plus souvent

Si ta femme te querelle
Dis-lui pour l'apaiser
Que tu veux te griser
Pour la trouver plus belle

Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Chanter, danser, rire et boire
Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Rire et boire plus souvent

Voilà que mon propriétaire
Dit qu'il va vendre mon lit
Je me moque de lui
Je couche toujours par terre

Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Chanter, danser, rire et boire
Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Rire et boire plus souvent

Je donnerai en héritage
Autant que j'ai reçu
Je suis venu au monde tout nu
Je ne laisserais pas davantage

Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Chanter, danser, rire et boire
Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Rire et boire plus souvent

Providence divine
Qui veille sur nos jours
Conserve nous toujours
La cave et la cuisine

Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Chanter, danser, rire et boire
Vaut bien mieux moins d'argent
Rire et boire plus souvent

Whiskey In The Jar (folk song)

Tom Kines; 2:08 [Track 6, side B] file: CFS914.mp3

This is a fine Nova Scotian variant of a popular Irish folk song about a fellow whose drinking tastes ran to a more traditional— and more alcoholic— beverage than wine. He also had no scruples, apparently, about occasionally stealing money to purchase the stuff, which he was fond of sharing with his "Molly-O". But, as things turned out, she proved to be his undoing by turning him over to the military, who led him away "like a lamb upon a slaughter".

The song was collected by Dr. Helen Creighton.

Wikipedia article on this song

As I rode over Kilkenny mountain,
I met Captain Irwin and his money he was counting;
First I drew my dagger then I drew my weapon,
Saying "Stand and deliver, for I am a bold deceiver."