Echoes of Spring :: :: University of Virginia Library

DOWN MURRAY'S HALL

Been out all night and I jes' got back;
I Jes' got back from a country ball,
You ought o' been there to see it all;
John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called;
An' we had one time down Murray's hall,
Way down the river road.

The hall was lit up with four big lights,
With four big lights that shone like day;
The whole house seemed as cheerful as May;
For laughter an' frolic, had all the sway:
Some joined the danced an' some joined th' play;
At the great big ball down Murray's hall,
Way down the river road.

There came a crowd from the West Fork side;
From the West Fork side north the river road,
And old uncle Isaac, to the crowd that rode,
Muttered an' growled how he lost on his load,
He hauled with his mules o'er the river road;
For a nickle a head, down Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

Aunt Jane Hunter came 'cross the field,
Came cross the field with her daughters, three,
Jes' 'like their mammy, but younger you see,
Modest an' pretty as pretty can be;
A lump clogged my throat when they bowed to me,
At the great big ball down Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

How many daughters? there 're only three,
There 're only three and they all were there;
Miss Alice the oldest, then comes Miss Marie,
She 's one shade brighter than Alice you see;
Miss Polly's the darkest, but has the best hair,
They all were down at Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

Miss Polly, the youngest had on a waist,
Of changeable silk, that glittered like gold;
Her long black hair was twisted an' rolled,
Her form was as straight as a straight May pole
Was belle of the ball at Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

Miss Marie was dressed up to taste,
Dressed up to taste an' a lookin' gran';
Had straightened her hair, an' powdered her face;
Had on snow-white-slippers, had buckled her waist,
Until its circumference was scarcely a span;
And she was Some Punks at Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

Miss Alice was dressed in a lavender gown,
A lavender gown artistically 'ranged
With ribbons an' laces an' pink chiffon;
A golden bracelet she had on,
Where dangled the hearts of suitors she won,
Who came a foot down Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

An' little Sam Tucker was fixed up swell,
Was fixed up swell with that swallow-tail;
He toted the cape of Alvina Wells,
And she is considered the village belle;
Her dress was covered all over with veil,
She walked full three feet a head of her trail,
That followed her down to Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

Abe Lincoln Jones, had a Jim-Swinger on,
A long Jim-Swinger, that hung 'low his knees;
The skirts of this garment did soar on the wind,
Like the windy March weather shakes a sheet on a line,
An' his feet jarred the dus' from the chinks in the wall,
As he led off the dance down Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

And John Lee fiddled a jocular air,
A jocular air, an' he fiddled it right;
And that old time fiddle did moan an' groan,
It woke up the sinews an' limbered the bones;
Them black folks an' yellah folks danced that night!
That hall fair shook, and quivered the lights,
At the great big ball down Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

That yellah Jim Cross stood up on a stool,
Stood up on a stool with his back to the wall;
His loud doleful voice rang out through the hall,
With—“Swing yo' pawtnas!” “Balance all!”
“Forward two!” “And forward fo'!”

You would laughed at the capers cut on that floo',
If you were down to Murray's hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

The church folks there were more than a few,
Were more than a few down Murray's hall,
They played more games than I ever knew;
They chose their pawtnas two an' two,
Played—“Run Johnnie Willow wind the ball!
Still John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
In the upper end of Murray's hall,
Way down the river road.

I hear the sweet voice of Miss Polly yet,
Of Miss Polly Hunter who led the play songs;
In spite of the fiddle her voice pierced the din,
Like a fife pierce the corps when the drummers begin;
An' loud rang the voices in Murray's old hall,
Where John Lee fiddled an' Jim Cross called,
Way down the river road.

But I'm sleepy now an' I mus' go on,
I mus' go on for I'm tired an' sore;
My shoes' too tight an' I danced all night,
My eye-lids are heavy, I don't feel right,
I was down at the ball an' saw it all,
Heard John Lee fiddle saw Jim Cross call,
I'll be 'round to morrow an' tell you more.