Family Songs
Spencer and Camilla Kimball Family Songs
"The Oregon Gypsy Girl" and "The Mistletoe Bough" are from Samuel Pascal Smith and Mary West of Nottingham, England,
and their daughter Caroline Smith (b. 1820)
who taught her daughter
Catherine Jane Cottam (b. 1855)
who taught her daughter
Caroline Cottam Romney (b. 1874)
who taught her daughter
Camilla Eyring Kimball (b. 1894)
who taught her four children--LeVan, Olive Beth, Andy, and Ed--
and they taught us.
"The Little Elf" is a song Spencer W Kimball taught his children,
who taught us--the grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren.
The Oregon Gypsy Girl
My father, he was an Oregon gypsy Jew;
My mother, she had some trading for me to do.
So, with my pack upon my back
And my friends to wish me well,
I started off for London, some fortunes for to tell,
Some fortunes for to tell,
I started off for London, some fortunes for to tell.
As I was walking down one of London's streets,
A handsome young squire I chan-ced for to meet.
He looked in my bright eyes and he seemed to wish me well
As he said, "My Oregon gypsy girl, can you my fortune tell?
Can you my fortune tell?"
As he said, "My Oregon gypsy girl, can you my fortune tell?"
"Oh, yes, sir, I can. Pray give unto me your hand.
A very merry long life for you, I fully comprehend.
Oh, your ladies and your waiting maids may all be cast aside.
For I'm the Oregon gypsy girl that is to be your bride,
That is to be your bride.
For I'm the Oregon gypsy girl that is to be your bride."
He took me home to a palace, I assure,
With servants to wait on me, and open every door.
Oh, the bells they rang so sweetly and the music told the time.
I was once an Oregon gypsy girl, but now I'm a squire's bride.
But now I'm a squire's bride.
I was once an Oregon gypsy girl, but now I'm a squire's bride.
The Mistletoe Bough
The mistletoe hung in the castle hall.
The holly bush shone on the old oak wall.
The baron's retainers were blithe and gay,
Keeping the Christmas holiday.
The baron beheld, with a father's pride,
His beautiful child, young Lovell's bride.
And she with her bright eyes seemed to be
The star of that goodly company.
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
Oh, the mistle--toe--o--o bough.
"I'm weary of dancing now, she cried.
"Here, tarry a moment. I'll hide. I'll hide.
And Lovell'll be sure the first to trace
The clue to my secret hiding place."
Then away she ran and her friends began
Each corner to search and each nook to scan.
Then Lovell, he said, "Where do'st thou hide?
I'm weary without you, my own fair bride."
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
Oh, the mistle--toe--o--o bough.
They sought her that night, and they sought her next day;
They sought her in vain 'til a week passed away.
The highest, the lowest, the loneliest spot,
Young Lovell sought wildly, but found her not.
Then years passed by and their grief at last
Was told in a sorrowful tale long past.
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
Oh, the mistle--toe--o--o bough.
At length an old chest which had long lain hid
Was found in the castle; they raised the lid.
A skeleton form lay mouldering there
In the bridal robes of that lady fair.
Oh, sad was her fate, when in sportive jest
She hid from her lord in that old oak chest.
Oh, the mistletoe bough,
Oh, the mistle--toe--o--o bough.
The Little Elf [Man]
I met a little elf-man once,
Down where the lilies blow.
I asked him why he was so small
And why he did not grow.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,
And why he did not grow,
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,
And why he did not grow.
He slyly chuckled to himself
And looked me through and through.
"I'm quite as big for me, " said he,
"As you are big for you."
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,
"As you are big for you."
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,
"As you are big for you."
[revised from John Kendrick Bangs's poem, "The Little Elf," from the first line of the second stanza, "He slightly frowned, and with his eye"]
