Wash Our Mouths Out With Soap
A collection of expressions, rhymes, songs, poems and games dating back to the early to mid-1800s
BETTE NUNN
Smashwords eBook Edition Published by Fideli Publishing Inc.
© Copyright 2011, Bette Nunn
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Cover art by Shelley Suter, Martinsville, IN
ISBN: 978-1-60414-316-4
Contents
CHAPTER V Words Gone into the Past
CHAPTER VII Old Sayings by the Alphabet
CHAPTER VIII Animal Expressions
CHAPTER IX Instruction Phrases
CHAPTER XI Using Colors to Compare
CHAPTER XII Remember the Polite Things?
CHAPTER XIII Argumentative Answers
CHAPTER XIV Old Sayings with Months, Luck
CHAPTER XV Descriptive Phrases Beginning with an “A”
CHAPTER XVI Expressions Like Commands
CHAPTER XVII A Friend's Contribution & More Old Expressions
CHAPTER XVIII Various Phrases from the Early Days
CHAPTER XIX Alcoholic Drinking Phrases
CHAPTER XX Expressions from 1950 to About 1990
CHAPTER XXII Bailey's Cowboy Contribution & Early Settler, Cowboy Expressions
CHAPTER XXIII KKK Had an Influence Here
CHAPTER XXIV Martinsville Owed an Apology
CHAPTER XXV City, County Helped Runaway Slaves
Dedication & Preface
I have been working on this book, Wash Our Mouths Out with Soap, and collecting material for it for 20 years. It covers expressions from the first settlers to the present. It is dedicated to my mother, grandparents, aunts, uncles and brothers, who sometimes used the expressions in the book. My father, Roy R. Denney, died when I was a year old. My mother, Anna May Denney (Carmichael), died in 1971 and all my five brothers, Raymond, Paul, Floyd, Sam and Dale Denney have died since then. All of them have played a part in my life. My mother and brothers watched over me with a loving eye as long as they lived.
Before he died, my husband, Kenneth Nunn, and I laughed and talked about many of the expressions in this book as we compared what we had heard as children. Even though we came from different communities and our ancestors came from different states, many of the expressions were nearly identical.
Some of the language in this book is not appropriate for children, but it is what people said when I was young. Most every family I knew used it in one form or another, though not always in public.
My family members and relatives spoke some of these things, but I never picked up the habit nor did I teach the stronger ones to my children. I am allowing them to know now what life and language were like in my very young years by writing this book.
Most of the information that follows comes from my own memory. However, some readers realized I was collecting old expressions, rhymes and games and they sent some items to me, sometimes anonymously. In that case, I did not always know where they got them.
I dedicate this book to my family and to all those who enjoy reading it. I thank my daughter, Shelley Suter, for creating the inside and outside covers, and Brian Culp, managing editor of The Reporter-Times, and Julie Varnell, who helped me, as did Robin Surface, who worked on and published this book. Jennifer McKinley, reference librarian at the Morgan County Public Library also assisted me. Thanks also to George Bailey, who contributed a long list of cowboy expressions. Culp laughed about the book and said his father’s main quotation was, “I don’t care what they call me as long as they don’t call me late for dinner.”
This is a picture of Bette Nunn’s family, minus her father, who died when she was a baby. In the 1950 photograph, on front, from left, are Samuel J. Denney, Bette Denney Nunn herself, and brother Dale Denney. On back are brother Floyd E. Denney, her mother, May Denney, and her brothers R. Paul Denney and Raymond R. Denney.
CHAPTER I Remembering Mama
Many old expressions still around today
As the years have progressed since early settlers started coming to Martinsville in the 1800s, adults have cleaned up some of their more offensive talk. Yet some of their old expressions and rhymes are still around. Just about every day I say or hear something that dates back to my growing up years and so do a lot of other people.
Every location in Indiana and throughout the USA seems to have its own nicknames but also its stories, games, songs, legends and its expressions. Sometimes the same ones overlap into nearby states.
Sometimes I wonder if we all spewed out of the same pot, as many of the expressions that have been handed down for centuries are nearly the same, though used hundreds of miles apart.
Sometimes the words vary a little, but it is evident that somewhere along the way, they started out from the same area. Some have spread throughout the world and are spoken in many languages, but they mean the same things. The best ones have survived not only the generations, but also the generation gaps.
It is my intent to put down for posterity those sayings that have bridged the gap, along with games, songs, rhymes and up-to-date phrases.
Through the decades, some parents didn’t always do what they said. They would tell their children not to use offensive or bad language, yet they would often use it in front of them. But if we children used it, the parents, especially the mothers, would sometimes “wash our mouths out with soap.”
That was an old time remedy that parents sometimes used to make children remember to keep pure thoughts and a clean mouth. It was something the children would remember, but it really wouldn’t hurt them.
But old timers weren’t the only ones who used it. While I was writing this story, a middle-age woman told me that when she was young, she came home from school one day and was repeatedly saying the “F” word. That was close to 45 years ago. She had heard other children saying it at school. She thought it was a strange sounding word and she was repeating it. She said she had no idea what it meant. She said her father heard what she said and he wanted to teach her that what she was saying wasn’t something she should have said. He took her into the kitchen, put her up by the sink, got a washcloth and soap and told her to stick out her tongue. Then he proceeded to wash her mouth out with soap. It was a lesson she quickly learned and to this day, she has never forgotten it.
The soap punishment is the name used for this book’s title, because it usually worked.
Though we may not realize it, the “dear departed” have left us much more than inheritances of personal belongings to remember them by. Perhaps these things come so naturally that we do not even think about how often we use their expressions, home remedies and customs or even how we came to know them.
By keeping alive some of these expressions, we will keep forever alive a part of our history, ancestry and those we have loved who have gone before us.
Many, no doubt, were carried from the old country to the new world and were handed down by pioneer families to present day.
Since man has been able to communicate with words, he has coined phrases, some good, some not so good. While many have disappeared with the passing of time, some will go on, perhaps forever.
As you strum through these pages, keep in mind that pioneer men and women had to be tough to survive. Therefore, it is no wonder that sometimes their language was strong.
If some of the expressions are too bold or “common” for your taste, try to be tolerant, realizing that earlier generations faced life and death situations with little or no assistance almost every day of their lives, and their children “cut their teeth” on pretty rough language at times. There were many times when swearing included the names of God or Jesus, but I did not choose to put these expressions in my book.
As I look back, now that my mother is gone, I think of the wonderful ways she expressed herself and I label her words “the real language of life and love.”
Her old sayings, songs, customs, games and stories usually had a hidden meaning, a moral or at least were funny, sarcastic or proved her point. Some were simply her way of describing a person or situation or of relating a learning experience. Some showed her feelings or reactions to a specific happening.
I didn’t realize how many of her terms I use each day until I really sat down to think and write about them.
I have decided that I would not be able to communicate without some of the great expressions she passed along to my five older brothers and me.
You might want some of the expressions to be tossed in the trash, and rightly so. But the chapters of this book may give readers a chance to relive their past and remember their parents and grandparents and other ancestors with love. Except for what is written in this book, I did not pass many of these songs, rhymes and expressions on to my children, not until now.
Shakespeare's an “OK guy” after all
Written in September 2010
I wanted to begin with a column that’s meaningful to me. It tells of two of my favorite quotations of all times and I feel it’s appropriate to start with it:
Many people the world over are all wrapped up in William Shakespeare (1564-1616), an English dramatist, playwright and poet, and his writings, but I haven’t paid much attention to him. I never studied him in school. If something about him was being taught in my English literature classes in high school, I must have slept through it. From what little I knew he was too stuffy. Too highbrow. Too complicated. Too smart. And he sometimes talked and wrote in sentences that seemed backwards to me.
But high school was a long time ago and I’ve changed a lot since then. I don’t mean that I’ve learned to fully appreciate Shakespeare, but my thoughts are more open than when I was young.
At some point in my life, I heard someone somewhere say in my presence, “To thine own self be true.” It stuck with me, and to this day, when I give advice to young couples who are getting married or moving away, especially those of good character, I write in a note, “To thine own selves be true.” The last two times I wrote that was for the wedding of my grandson, Dustin Huff, and his wife Jessica and to another grandson, Chris Suter, when he was moving to Chicago for more studies after graduating from Indiana University.
To me, that expression, which is my favorite, has meant, “listen to and follow your conscience.” During my lifetime, I have always tried to do that and when I did, things worked out well. When I ignored that wee, small voice inside my head and heart and did things that I knew weren’t right in my own judgment, I paid the price for them and some of those actions I have regretted to this day. I’m sure I will take them to my grave with me and when I appear before Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates, I pray that because I have asked for forgiveness I will not have a neon sign on my forehead that flashes on and off, saying “Damaged Goods.”
For I believe that all humans “damage” themselves and that there has been only one perfect person.
Since I am working on a book about old expressions and sayings that will have some historical articles about Martinsville and Morgan County as well, I thought I’d just check the Internet and see where my favorite quotation came from.
Guess what! It was from William Shakespeare. It appears in “Hamlet,” in Act I, scene III, when Polonius prepares his son Laertes for travel abroad with a speech in which he directs the youth to commit a “few precepts to memory.” Among the precepts is the now familiar adage, “neither a borrower nor a lender be” (there’s one of those backwards sentences.) Then the dictum: “This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.”
Obviously Shakespeare was someone I probably could have connected to if I could have only understood everything he wrote. But for today, I’ll say he was an okay guy, a description of him that’s probably never been used before. After all, he wrote my favorite expression.
Another favorite of mine is the Serenity Prayer: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Amen.”
I try to follow this prayer too and it is not as easy for me as it sounds. For if I see a potentially bad situation around me, especially in my family, I want to do something to fix it, when sometimes the best thing I can do is “butt out.”
Millions of recovering alcoholics, soldiers, weary parents and just about anybody feeling beaten down by life have found comfort in the prayer.
The composer is thought to be Reinhold Niebuhr, a protestant theologian and one of Christianity’s most recognizable figures. He died in 1971 and said he honestly believed that he had written it but that it could have been around for centuries. It isn’t for sure when he first used it but could have been as early as 1934, but it is known that he used it in 1941-42, when World War II was going on.
It doesn’t matter to me who wrote it or when it was written. I’m just glad someone did.
And so I leave you with thoughts of the Serenity Prayer and the advice of Shakespeare, “To thine own self, be true.”
Little Miss Smarty Pants
Being from one of the first generations where everyone went to school and most graduated, I was always lording my knowledge of proper English over my poor mother’s. Today I think about this in shame, for her way of talking, though not always proper, was very plain spoken, honest and had meaning.
Times were very hard when she was a child in Indiana. She was born in 1895. She came from a large family of seven children, making her parents’ burdens even harder.
My mother had to quit school at age 11 because her father couldn’t afford to buy her schoolbooks. She went to work in the Van Camp’s canning factory on the north side of Martinsville, Indiana, where she stood on a box to peel tomatoes, as she was too small to reach the peeling area otherwise. She took her paycheck home to help her parents feed the family. Her education came mainly through the “school of hard knocks” and from her mother, who had taught school. Grandma taught most of James Whitcomb Riley’s poems to my mother and when I was young, I would sit on her lap and she would recite them to me.
Though I was not always the best of students, it wasn’t hard for me to surpass her fifth grade education, and I was constantly reminding her of that. I was so overbearing as I corrected her limited use of the English language that she laughed and called me her “Little Miss Smarty Pants,” a nickname I richly deserved. Adding a little spice to her affectionate descriptions of me, depending on the mood I was in, she occasionally referred to me as her “Little Snot Box,” “Our Miss Priss,” or her “Little prima donna.” The latter was applied because I wanted to take opera lessons when I was very young. While I was a showoff who sang and acted out songs and dances for any visitors who came to our house, I didn’t know the slightest thing about opera singing.
Sometimes I blushed when she spoke a little off color. Not until I became an adult did I realize that even in the best of families, there usually was a time when slang language was normal and acceptable, at least in private.
Mother kept her public expressions clean
In front of visitors, mother was always prim and proper. But when she had us all to herself, sometimes the phrases she chose were not so polite, especially if she were a little bit mad at us. Then she was very “earthy.”
My brothers usually had something to say, too.
My mother was funny about discussing some things. The word, sex, was something she didn’t believe she should talk about, at least not with me. She never told me about “the birds and the bees” or tried to honestly explain how children came about. I was into my teen years before I realized that something was going on between men and women to make babies for I was told most of my young life that the pregnant mothers had swallowed a watermelon seed. Her next step was to frighten me to death with stories about the pains connected to childbirth. Her methods must have been pretty good, for they worked and I didn’t get that close to a man until I was married.
To let you know how personal and private some things were to my mother, I’ll tell you another story. Our family was fortunate. Our house had a bathtub, sink and toilet in our bathroom and eventually the water was heated. We had electric lights throughout the house and a small chandelier in the living room, though most homes still used oil or kerosene lanterns. We at first had a kitchen sink with a pump and an outhouse in the yard. About everyone had them.
Anyway, one day when I was in grade school mother wanted to take a bath and I had an emergency and needed to get into the bathroom. She told me to wait a minute and then she said it was okay to enter. As I walked in, I saw mother in the tub with all her clothes on. She had put them back on while I waited. I don’t believe I ever saw her undressed, as she was very modest.
I’m told that once when she was having a baby, a doctor came to our house to assist in the birth. She resented him closely examining her and she kicked him in the head.
Now, we move into the old expressions.
Some of the things people often said
When I was young, if families wanted to get someone’s attention after that person had been bawling a while, they had this little poem:
“Listen, listen, cat’s a pissin’, Where, where? Under the chair. Run, run, get the gun; too late, job’s done.”
— If someone would get to bothering adults, asking them a million questions, they’d sometimes say, “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies; keep your mouth closed and you’ll swallow no flies.”
— Another one that people said when they saw somebody down and out, blue or feeling sorry for themselves was: “Here I sit, all broken hearted; came to sh*t and only farted.”
— If someone were blowing off, bragging or saying something believed to be untruthful, old timers would say, “He sounds like a fart in a whirlwind.”
— When someone asked a question and no one would answer, about the third time, people would say, “Speak a*s, mouth won’t.”
— To describe someone’s financial status, sometimes people would say: “Why he doesn’t have a pot to pi*s in or a window to throw it out of.”
— When people tried to sing and did a poor job, some folks remarked, “Well, he couldn’t carry a tune in a water bucket (or a wheel barrow).”
— If you annoyed some people by saying, “I want this or I want that” (and they had no money to buy it), they would emphasize, “People in hell want ice water.” Or, they’d remark, “Want in one hand and wish (or sh*t) in the other, and see which one gets fullest the quickest.”
— If you became nosey and kept asking questions people didn’t want to answer, they would say, “None of your business” or “None of your beeswax.”
— If someone would annoy an adult for a period of time, the adult might get to the point of saying, “I’d trade you for a mule and knock the mule in the head.”
— When someone had gas on his stomach and began to let it off, some dads would say, “Someone cut a rusty.”
— If someone was acting mad or irritable, dads might have said, “He’s got a fart crossed sideways.”
— If the grumpy person happened to be a woman, someone might say, “She’s got her boob (or tit) caught in a wringer,” (referring to the old ringer washing machines).
— If people noticed someone trying to act a lot older than his age, they might remark, “Why, he’s still pooping (or sh*ting) yellar.”
— I heard my brothers make off-color comments and swear a little around our house. Yet, in all my growing up years, I never heard the “F word” said by my brothers. They thought it was too disrespectful to say around their mother and little sister.
My brother Sam would have to take care of me when mother worked late and would have to sleep beside me once in a while because I was afraid to sleep alone. During those times, no matter if it were in the soaring heat of summer, he was so protective of me he would sleep with all his clothes on. There was no fan and no air conditioning and he would swelter. But he would suffer it out, because I was precious to him.
When he took Dale and me to a movie and we had to walk to the square to see it, I always got tired and sleepy on the way home. I was very young then, maybe 4 or 5 years old. I’d cry because I couldn’t keep up with the big steps Sam would take. He’d reach down, lift me to his shoulders and carry me all the way home.
When he was in high school, he’d practice basketball and then go to work at Dillon’s Bakery that was once located where the McCarthy and Son store was on South Main Street. His pay was day-old bread and pastries, which he brought home to help feed his family. He was a wonderful brother to me. I was closer to Dale and Sam, because they were nearer to my age, but I loved the other three also.
Mother had some funny, old expressions
— If someone was blowing off and stretching the truth, my mother might say, “If BS was music, he’d be a brass band.” She might also say, “I’d like to buy him for what he’s worth and sell him for what he thinks he’s worth.”
— Speaking of beans, Mama had this little ditty she sang when you ate them: “Beans, beans, make good soup; the more you eat, the more you poop; the more you poop, the better you feel, so let’s have beans for every meal.”
— If some man were wearing droopy drawers, Mama would say: “He looks like a family moved out of the seat of his britches.”
— If someone informed Mama that she had to do something she didn’t choose to do, she might say: “Oh, go pee up a downspout.”
— When someone repeatedly told how they would have done something if they could have, the old folks would say: “If the dog hadn’t stopped to sh*t, he would have caught the rabbit.”
— If someone was lazy and no account, they would say he was “as worthless as tits on a boar hog.”
— When someone acted like he knew everything, but really didn’t, the old folks said: “He don’t know his a*s from a hole in the ground.” They might also have said: “He don’t know sh*t from Shinola,” (or beans from apple butter). Or they might have said: “You’re full of prunes” or “You’re full of sh*t.”
— They might also tell someone making demands on them to: “Go sh*t in the creek and wipe your hinny on the bubbles.”
— Some of the other everyday expressions that the old folks kept only for family included: “That’s a crock of sh*t; he gives me a royal pain in the a*s; he has a sh*tpot full of money; holy cr*p; shove it up your a*s; go sh*t a mean streak; he reminds me of the north end of a horse going south; you make my a*s tired; he’s got more stuff (or sh*t) than a Christmas turkey; go sh*t a gold brick; that’s when the sh*t hit the fan; and Oh, hell’s fire.”
— A standing joke of the day was: The three quickest ways to spread news or gossip were: “Tel-e-phone, tel-e-graph or tell a woman.”
— When someone criticized another person for doing the same thing the first person did, Mama’s remark was: “That’s like the pot calling the kettle black.”
— If someone kept making one mistake right after another, Mama said: “Out of the frying pan and into the fire.”
— If a person acted really dumb all the time, she would say: “He’s not smart enough to pour sand in a rathole” or “He’s not smart enough to get in out of the rain.”
— If someone loved to kid other people but got mad when someone kidded him, Mama would say: “He can dish it out, but he can’t take it.”
— Another bit of talent Mama had was being able to repeat or recite things.
— Mama sang songs and recited poems to me that I do not hear today and that I have never heard since my years as a child. One poem that she told me over and over was about the pig that wouldn’t jump over the stile and so the old woman couldn’t get home. I loved that poem!
— If I close my eyes I can still hear her today as she started slowly and quietly and got louder and faster with the closing lines of the story poem. This is the end: “The cat began to kill the rat; The rat began to gnaw the rope; The butcher began to kill the ox; The ox began to drink the water; The water began to quench the fire; The fire began to burn the stick; The stick began to beat the dog; The dog began to bite the pig; The pig jumped over the stile, And so the old woman got home that night.”
— I still remember the big band sound from my elementary years at the old North School. We had our little capes, our clods, our bells, our tambourines, our sticks and our triangles. A couple of students played drums. I really enjoyed the tambourines best and we took turns with the instruments. What music we made!
CHAPTER II Baby Games, Songs
She would sing to me about chiggers: “Oh, I had a little chigger and he wasn’t any bigger than the point of a very small pin, but the bump he raises, it itches like the blazes, and that’s where the rub comes in. Comes in, comes in, and that’s where the rub comes in; oh, the bump he raises, it itches like the blazes, and that’s where the rub comes in.”
She sang “Bye, Baby Bunting, Daddy went a-hunting, to get a baby rabbit skin, to wrap the baby bunting in.” She also sang: Rock-a-bye Baby, in the tree top; when the when blows, the cradle will rock; when the bow breaks, the cradle will fall; then down will come baby, cradle and all.”
Mama pointed to my forehead, my nose and my chin and said: “This is the rooster, this is the pullet and this is the hen.” She asked: “What did I say this was?” (as she pointed to my nose). When I said, “Pullet,” she pulled it and then we laughed.
Mama also taught me how to do everything Simon did in the game Simon Says and riddledy, riddledy, I double dee, I see something that you don’t see and the color of it is …” (And then you had to guess to figure out the item she was talking about.)
While my earliest recollection of songs were old time hymns, such as “In the Garden,” “Sweet Bye and Bye,” and “Old Rugged Cross, “ she also often sang, “Dear, Dear What Ails Me?” and other humorous songs of her day. I also remember her singing to me the lovely “On the Banks of the Wabash,” “Back Home Again in Indiana,” and many rounds and songs for harmony such as “In the Evening by the Moonlight.” She had a wonderful alto voice, and music came naturally to her. She could play piano and guitar “by ear.”
Remembering my life as a little girl
When I was born back on June 18, 1931, my aunt Margie was helping a doctor to deliver me. She was so shocked when a baby girl appeared. Mother told me she shouted, “Oh, God, May, it’s a girl!”
For Aunt Margie to use the word, God, in an expression like that was something different. She always kept her language extremely clean.
My mother was very surprised too, what after having six boys. It’s no wonder she put me on a pedestal every day of my life, she had been longing for a girl for so long. But my brothers felt the same way about me, so there was no jealousy to deal with. I’ve talked a lot about my five brothers in the past, but a sixth brother, Melvin Lawrence Denney, died in infancy. He might have smothered while she was keeping him next to her in bed, as most mothers did back then. He was buried out by Mahalasville Church. I don’t know how they handled things like that at that time, probably close to 1920, but I know that no one made a big deal out of losing a newborn baby back then, as they didn’t have all the doctors or medical equipment to save struggling babies. I don’t believe they had any agencies that checked on things like infant deaths back then. You just never heard of mothers or fathers purposely hurting their own babies as we do today.
Mother took great pride in having a little girl and she just had to show me off to everyone who came to visit. She would teach the songs of her day to me and when I was about 5, she’d have me sing them for company. She’d even have me dance. All guests had to pay attention to me whether they liked it or not.
When I was about 7 or 8, the city’s Community Chest sponsored a program for the west end kids at Eslinger Park. I was so lucky to live close by it. That’s where all the town’s excitement was held when I was young - the carnivals, the circuses, the medicine shows, and some musical programs under a tent.
I should have thanked the city for having supervisors there to run programs. One of the things they did was have talent shows for the neighborhood kids quite often. I know I won a lot of them by adding gyrations, rolling my eyes and acting like the “star” my mother thought I was. She was so proud of me that she acted like I was the second coming of Shirley Temple. Shirley was my idol, but I could only dream I had the talent that she had.
I’ve been thinking about some of the songs I used to woo the park judges, ones that had a lot of hand, eyes and body motions as well as words. One was: “Put your arms around me, honey, hold me tight; huddle up and cuddle up with all your might; oh, oh, when you roll those eyes, eyes that I just idolize. When you look at me my heart begins to float, then it starts to rockin’ like a motor boat. Oh, oh! I never knew any boy like you.”
Another was “Maw, He’s Makin’ Eyes at Me,” which went like this: “Maw, he’s makin’ eyes at me. Maw, he’s awful nice to me. Maw, he’s almost breakin’ my heart. I’m beside him, mercy let his conscience guide him. Maw, he wants to marry me and be my honey bee. Every moment he gets bolder. Now he’s leanin’ on my shoulder. Maw, he’s kissin’ me!”
I also sang “Come Sit by my Side, Little Darlin’.”
Another song that my mother taught me was not one I sang for contests but was one I thoroughly enjoyed and laughed at. It was called “They Always, Always Pick on Me.” It went like this: “When I was born my Maw and Paw, looked at me and said oh, pshaw; the doctor said, it’s a girl I think, and paw went out and got a drink. Paw said I looked just like Maw and Maw said I looked just like Paw, but my Aunt Sue said I looked like a quince and I’ve been a stepchild ever since. They always, always pick on me; they never, never let me be; I’m so very lonesome, very, very sad; it’s been a long time since I’ve been glad; I know what I’ll do bye and bye, I’ll eat some worms and then I’ll die; and when I’m gone, you wait and see, you’ll all be sorry that you picked on me.”
I loved music. Many times when I took my two daughters, Shelley and Abby, to rehearsal at Mary Kersting Moore’s Dance Studio, I wished I could have had an opportunity to take dance lessons when I was young. I was especially fascinated with tap dancing. Shelley spent about 13 years with Mary and Abby about 10. Shelley liked it a lot more than Abby, who would rather have been out playing ball.
Mama knew many games that used the hands or other parts of the body.
She knew “Pidge porridge hot, pidge porridge cold, pidge porridge in the pot nine days old.”
She sang “Little Orphan Annie” when she wanted to scare us to death, and she emphasized the lines “and all they ever found was her clothes and round about; and the goblins will get you if don’t watch out!”
Mama also played on our sympathies. To get my brothers to be good to me, Mama would sing the boys a little song: “She was only seven, when she was gone to heaven; that little kid sister of mine; decided she was meant for a star He sent for, that little kid sister of mine.”
Or when she wanted one of the older boys to think about his blessings or his younger brothers, she would sing: “Please don’t take my little shoes away.”
If Mama wanted to make us sympathetic to her own cause, she might sing: ‘’Hello, central, give me heaven ‘cause my mother’s there, you will find her with the angels on the golden stairs.”
I must honestly admit, though, that I was not very good to help my mother, and neither were the boys. Mama worked long hours, kept house, cooked, washed clothes and after my father died, when I was only a baby, she carried in the wood and coal and carried out the ashes. Shamefully, we all remembered this.
But Sometimes, Mama tried to make me ashamed while I was growing up. She recited to me this little poem called “Which Loved Best?” Joy Allison (Mary A. Cragin) wrote it. It went like this:
“I love you, Mother,” said little Ben; Then, forgetting his work, his cap went on, And he was off to the garden swing, And left her the water and wood to bring. “I love you, Mother,” said rosy Nell – I love you better than tongue can tell; Then she teased and pouted full half the day, Till her mother rejoiced when she went to play, “I love you, Mother,” said little Fan; “Today I’ll help you all I can; How glad I am that school doesn’t keep!” So she rocked the babe till it fell asleep. Then stepping softly, she fetched the broom, And swept the floor and tidied the room; Busy and happy all day was she, Helpful and happy as a child could be. “I love you, Mother,” again they said, Three little children going to bed; How do you think that mother guessed Which of them really loved her best?”
Needless to say, I was much more of a little Nell than a little Fan.
I can remember once, when I was about 7, deciding I would do a few things around the house, but I thought I deserved pay. It didn’t matter to me that my mother was working 14 hours a day, seven days a week in a restaurant just to feed us, clothe us and keep a roof over our heads; I still thought she owed me something extra. I was the “baby” and the only girl, you know.
I itemized all my services, and after each one, I placed a cost. I submitted a bill to my mother, which she paid. The next day, Mama handed me her bill: For cooking Betty’s meals, 0, for washing and ironing Betty’s clothes, 0, for fixing Betty’s hair, 0, for cleaning up after Betty and buying her all the things she needs, 0.
(I was really born with the name of Betty, not Bette. But I changed it myself very early in life because there were so many girls named Betty in my class that I never knew which one the teachers were talking to. The change helped a little, especially when my completed work was returned after grading.)
Mama got her message across with her bill. The “uneducated” lady was very clever. She managed to take care of herself, her family and several others during some pretty lean years, this despite the fact that the banks closed after my Dad died, and she didn’t have a dime to her name. It wasn’t surprising that while some people wanted to help, some business people put an end to the family’s credit because they didn’t think Mama would be able to make it. Later, when they saw that she could, some offered to restore her credit. Her answer was, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I rarely ever went without anything I needed. I remember the boys did go to school in the warm months without shoes, but lots of kids did that. I also remember we ate a lot of beans, fried potatoes, cornbread and biscuits, and sometimes the cupboard was a might bare, but no one ever came close to starving at our house.
My brother Paul got more than his share of rabbits and squirrels, and that put meat on the table many times. Mother often had a big garden and canned during the summer months, so our cellar always had plenty of vegetables. When Sam worked after school hours at Dillon’s Bakery, he was paid off in day-old bread and rolls, and we all felt lucky to have them. Mama was also good about sending sandwiches to us from the restaurant where she worked, and she brought home anything she thought would be thrown out.
But the extras, for the most part, were few and far between. Once in awhile, we would have strawberries, my favorite. The boys would go berry picking when they were young and would either give their findings to Mother or sell them. Mother and other ladies in the neighborhood were always out picking greens in warm months. Hardly anybody does that today!
We had chicken and dumplings for the special holidays, like Christmas. Our presents were few, except for mine. I got several, because I was the only girl and was the youngest child. All sacrificed so that I might have.
Our tree was decorated with paper loops, which formed strings, popcorn, and sometimes lights. There was always one present I wanted that I never got, but Mother never let me give up my dream, at least not while I was very small.
I wanted a pony. Well, we didn’t have a place to keep a pony, and we wouldn’t have had the money to buy feed for it either, but it’s still what I wanted most. One Christmas, there was this little box with a note on it that said: “I had a little Pony for you, but he got away. Santa.” The box was full of horse chips! This time, Mama convinced me my pony got away.
But she made up for everything material I wanted and didn’t have. She would cut out paper dolls from magazines and newspapers. She would use newspapers to make hats, airplanes and hula skirts for me. She would make patterns and sew beautiful little dresses for me, sometimes out of flour sacks, but they were super!
— Did you ever see your Mama get tired of answering questions, especially about her name, and have her say: “Buster Brown—ask me again and I’ll knock you down,” or “Puddintame—ask me again and I’ll tell you the same?”
— Did you ever get on a teeter-totter and sing: “Teeter-totter, bread and water, wash your face in dirty water?”
— My Mama was quite a big tease. When she couldn’t corral us by her usual means, she threatened us with “raw head and bloody bones” and she’d make sure he rattled doors and windows when he visited us. Believe me, we believed in raw head and bloody bones. After all, we heard him, and we believed we saw him too.
— When you were young, did anyone ever tell you to hold your tongue and repeat as fast as you could: “Grandma’s ash pole” or “cowboy’s lasso”? My mama laughed at me when I tried it. She also got a big hee-haw out of my trying to say as fast as possible: “Rubber, baby, buggy, bumper.”
— Mama could say, “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, a peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked. If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?” very fast, and I finally mastered that, but not without getting my tongue twisted a thousand times nor without laughing till the tears ran down my cheeks.
— Did you ever have anyone tell you that if a male and female went walking, the fellow was supposed to walk on the outside next to the street? When I was young, people yelled “cabbage” at you if you didn’t abide. I wondered where that idea came from and finally decided it dated back to early years in big cities when the guys had to walk on the inside next to the apartment buildings, as tenants often threw their garbage out the windows and onto the streets. Perhaps before they threw it, they yelled “cabbage.”
— Mother taught me to hold a grasshopper and say: “Spit tobacco juice or I’ll never let you loose.” And you know what? The grasshopper excreted some kind of a fluid that looked like just that.
— Mama thought ladybugs were good luck. When I was young, she taught me to let them crawl across my hand and say: “Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home, your house is on fire, and your children will burn up.” They always flew away.
— When the first star came out at night, Mama told me to say: “Star light, star bright, first star I’ve seen tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” My luck wasn’t too good on star wishing.
— At nighttime, we would get out our jars with the holes punched in the lid and use them for lightning bug containers. It was fun to catch them, and interesting to watch them glow.
— As toddlers, Mama entertained us with: “This little piggy went to market; this little piggy stayed home; this little piggy had roast beef (or a bowl of soup) and this little piggy had none. This little piggy went ‘wee, wee, wee’ all the way home.” She pulled our toes as she said this, starting with the big one and ending with the little one. Every baby I have ever seen enjoys this game.
— Sometimes Mama would sing: ‘”Yes, sir, that’s my baby.” Or maybe she’d recite and act out “I love you little, I love you big; I love you like a little fat pig.”
— Once in awhile, she would play like her leg was a pony. When we wanted a ride someplace and there was no car available, that little pony took on a new image. “Ride Shank’s ponies,” Mama would say, and she meant: “Use your own two feet.”
— Did you ever have your Mama say to you: “Be sure to put on clean underpants, you might have a wreck or something.” Or if you made a face at someone, did Mama ever say: “Be careful, or your face will freeze that way.” Didn’t you believe it?
— Did Mama always teach you that if you had to fight to “pick on somebody your own size.” She said the same thing when a big kid was picking on a smaller kid.
— Did you ever sing “When Sammy pat the paper on the wall, he put the parlor paper on the hall? He papered up the stairs, papered all the chairs, he even put a border round grandma’s shawl. When Sammy put the paper on the wall, he spilled a pot of paste upon us all; and now we stick together, like birds of a feather, since Sammy put the paper on the wall?”
— How about the “Eensy, weensy spider’ went up the garden spout; down came the rain and washed the spider out; out came the sun and dried up all the rain, and the eensy, weensy spider went up the spout again.” She would do this to hand movements going up and down.
— Did you ever sing and act out “Little Sally Walker, sitting in a saucer, weeping and crying, because her mother’s dying; rise, Sally, rise; wipe out your eyes; turn to the East and turn to the West and turn to the one you love the best?”
— Remember: “I’m a little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle, here is my spout; when I get all steamed up, hear me shout, tip me over, pour me out.” (This was also sung with hand and body movements.)
— Another game with singing was: “Where, oh where is dear little Bette, where, oh where is dear little Bette, where, oh where is dear little Bette, way down yonder in the paw paw patch. Pickin’ up paw paws, put ’em in a basket, pickin’ up papaws, put ’em in a basket, pickin’ up paw paws, put ’em in a basket, way down yonder in the paw paw patch. C’mon girls and let’s go find her, c’mon girls and let’s go find her, c’mon girls and let’s go find her, way down yonder in the paw paw patch.” (I remember playing this game at North School when I was very small.)
— To jump the rope, we sang: “Down in the valley where the green grass grows; there sat Bette as sweet as a rose, she sang, she sang, she sang so sweet, how many kisses did she get that week? (Those turning the rope would then count.)
— Also to jump rope: “Mable, Mable, set the table, don’t forget the red hot peppers (followed by fast turns and counting).”
— Then there was “Teddy bear, Teddy bear, turn around; teddy bear, teddy bear, touch the ground; teddy bear, teddy bear, show your shoes, teddy bear, teddy bear, amscrayboose.”
— Also: “Last night, last night, the night before, a pickle and a lemon came knocking at my door. I went downstairs to let them in; they hit me over the head with a rolling pin. I went upstairs to get my gun; you oughta saw the lemon and the pickle run. They ran so fast they lost their pants, and that was the end of the royal dance.”
— Remember when you walked along the sidewalk with your Mother and she said: “Don’t step on a crack, or you’ll break your Mother’s back?” Did you dare try it?
— Did she ever say to you: “Get your little hinny bob in here?”
— Did you ever whisper behind her back: “Go jump in the lake, and swallow a snake and come back up with the belly ache.”
— It someone was ordering Mama around and she became tired of it, she would say in no uncertain terms: “Kiss where I can’t, and I don’t mean my elbow.”
— When the boys didn’t want to wash as often as they should, she would check them over and comment: “Why, there’ s enough dirt behind your ears to grow a potato patch.”
— If I’d say, “My hands are cold, Mommy.” She would come back at me with: “Cold hands, warm heart, dirty feet and no sweetheart.”
— She taught me how to pull the petals from a flower to find out if a beau cared for me: “He loves me, he loves me not; he loves me; he loves me not.” Whichever line you spoke with the last petal was the answer.
— She would hold a dandelion to my neck and twist it around and around. Sometimes she’d say that the yellow reflection meant I had a boyfriend, and the next time, she would say it told whether I stole sugar or liked butter.
The Counting Songs
— Mother knew her fives and tens by heart and could also rattle off her nines. She taught them to me and I could rattle off all three too.
— She taught us all to count by songs and verses. Some she used were “One potato, two potato, three potato, four; five potato, six potato, seven potato more.” We would hold out our hands and would be eliminated from the game if she tapped our hands on “seven potato more.” It was also a good way to teach us to make choices or determine whose turn it was to do something.
— Another song was “One little, two little, three little Indians; four little, five little, six little Indians; seven little, eight little, nine little Indians; ten little Indian boys.” You would hold up the number of fingers you were singing about as you went along. To make sure you understood, then you would have to start again going backwards with “Ten little, nine little, eight little Indians; seven little, six little, five little Indians; four little, three little two little Indians; one little Indian boy.”
— Then there was: “0ne, two, buckle my shoe; three, four, shut the door; five, six, pick up sticks; seven, eight, lay them straight, and nine, ten, a big fat hen.”
— A song she sang was: “One, two, three, the devil’s after me; four, five, six, he keeps a-throwin’ bricks; seven, eight, nine, he misses all the time, hallelujah, hallelujah, amen.”
— To start off a race or a contest, she would say: “On your mark, get set, go.” She might also say: “One for the money, two for the show, three to make ready and four to go.”
— For birthdays, we got one lick on the fanny for each year (an easy lick). Then we got one to grow on, one to get married on, one to have a baby on and one for good measure. If someone was having a real good time with the whacks, he might think up a reason for a few more, and the last ones were always harder.
— One little rhyme that helped us to decide what the future held for us was to point to objects or people and say, “Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief.” Whichever name was mentioned as you were pointed to was the one that you were destined to be. (We also jumped rope to those lines.)
— We sang our “ABCs: ABCDEFG, HIJKLMNOP, QRS and TUV, WX and YZ.” It was an easy way to learn and one that’s long remembered. It ended with “Now I’ve said my ABC’s, tell me what you think of me.”
— Mother knew more nursery rhymes than you could shake a stick at. Often she would tell me about the old woman and the pig that wouldn’t jump over the stile. When I remember those lines, I also remember, “The butcher began to kill the ox, the ox began to drink the water, the water began to drown the …”
— She told me about Little Boy Blue, Jack Sprat, Georgie Porgie Puddin’ and Pie, Little Bo Peep and all the other old favorites. My, how she would huff and puff as she told me the story about the three little pigs and the wolf blowing their houses down.
— “My, what big teeth you have, Grandma,” and “The better to eat you my dear” from “Little Red Riding Hood,” were some of her favorite dramatic lines. She was great with Goldilocks and the three bears, and I can still hear her ask, “Who’s been sitting in my chair?”
— When she wanted me to be good, she sang this little song: “My Mama told me, if I be good-ie, that she would buy me a rubber dollie; now don’t you tell her, I got a fel-ler, or she won’t buy me a rubber dollie.”
— To cheer me up sometimes, she’d sing this little ditty: “Mama, Mama, may I go, down to the corner to meet my beau …”
— She would play on the piano and sing, “Mama, Mama, have you heard? Daddy’s going to buy me a mocking bird. If that mocking bird don’t sing, Daddy’s going to buy me a diamond ring. If that diamond ring turns brass, Daddy’s going to buy me a looking glass. If that looking glass gets broke, Daddy’s going to buy me a billy goat. If that billy goat runs away, Daddy’s going to buy me a Chevrolet. If that Chevrolet runs down, Daddy’s going to buy me the whole darn town.”
— Sometimes if I wanted something really bad, and I hadn’t been really good, Mama would first make me say “please,” then “purdy please” then “purdy please with sugar on it.”
— If I happened to be shedding tears for no reason, Mama would sing to me: Cry baby, cry-oh; what makes you cry so?”
— It I were tattling on someone, she’d say: “Tattletale tit, your tongue will be split; and every little dog in town will get a little bit.” The kids would yell: “Tattletale, tattletale, hanging on a bull’s tale.”
— Mama, when wanting to please me or show me attention, would hold me and tell me: “Do you know what little girls are made of? — Sugar and spice and everything nice.” Then she’d ask: “Do you know what little boys are made of? “Snips and snails and puppydog tails.”
— When someone was bragging or blowing off, she had a swell comeback: “I’ve heard bugs fart under water before.”
— When she wanted, something that someone else had, but couldn’t afford it, sometimes Mama would say: “If I had that -----(whatever it was) and she had a feather up her rump, we’d both be tickled.”
— When someone continuously lied or told tall tales, Mama had a phrase that fitted that person: “If BS was music, he’d be a brass band.”
— It someone were so stuck on himself that he was overbearing, Mama said about him: “I’d like to buy him for what he’s worth and sell him for what he thinks he’ s worth.”
— If Mama thought I was being a glutton, she would warn me about getting fat with this little song: “Fatty, fatty, two-by-four—couldn’t get through the kitchen door.”
— Mama used a lot of psychology on us. When we were small and would fall or get hurt, Mama would always kiss our bruises or injuries and “make them well.” It was amazing how she made the pain go away.
— When friends wouldn’t accept a dare when I was young, others would encourage them by saying: “I double dare you.” A further encouragement was to call the reluctant kid a “chicken.” That would almost never fail in getting the kid to go along.
— If someone happened to be staring at someone else, the latter might yell: “Rubberneck, rubberneck, ten cents a stretch.”
— Once in awhile, we would discourage other kids from playing on “our sidewalk” by saying: “Two’s company, three’s a crowd, four on the sidewalk’s not allowed.”
— We’d repeat the songs we often heard, but they were given new words: “Here comes the bride, big, fat and wide; see how she wobbles from side to side,” or “Oh, say can you see, any bedbugs on me? If you do, take a few, ‘cause I got them from you,” or “Nero, my dog has fleas.” The real words? — The first were takeoffs on the wedding march, the second, the national anthem, and the third: “Nearer my God to Thee.”
— When we wrote letters, sometimes we put X’s on the bottom for kisses and O’s for hugs. We’d put SWAK on the back of the envelope, for “sealed with a kiss.” Another thing we used X’s for was when we didn’t want to be tagged “it” in a game. Then we’d yell: “King’s X.”