# Journal of American Folk-Lore/Volume 12/Issue 47/Notes and Queries

​ ​As my mother, who was born in 1808, recalls this incident of her childhood, the image was eight or ten inches in height, and was inserted, not in the foundations of the chimney, but on the first floor, at about the level of a person's head. Inquiries made of the antiquarians of Salem and Newburyport have failed to elicit information of any other case of the survival of foundation sacrifice in either of those towns.
N. D. C. Hodges.
Harvard College, Cambridge, Mass.
Folk-Names of Animals.—In Vol. VII. of the Memoirs of this Society, "Animal and Plant-Lore," there is an exceedingly brief chapter on folk-names of animals. Since the book went to press, two additional names have come to me. A young naturalist friend, in collecting mammals in northern New Hampshire, encountered the name wonts for shrew-mice. His provisional theory in regard to the meaning of the name was, that it might have been given because of the well-known fact that cats won't eat these little animals. It seems to me, however, that I have seen the name, in the form oont, among animal-names from the north of England.
A common pest in dwelling-houses is the Lepisma saccharina, commonly known as slick-fish and silver-fish. These common names are not found in most of the larger dictionaries.
If any of the readers of the Journal can give me folk-names of animals which are not recognized in books, but are more or less local in their application, I shall be very glad to receive and use them.
Fanny D. Bergen.
Cambridge, Mass.
Rhyme relating to the Battle of New Orleans.—Can any one furnish information in regard to the following rhyme, apparently connected with the battle of New Orleans?
Cotton-bags are in the way, Fire, Allalingo, fire away;
General Jackson's gained the day,
Fire, Mallingo, fire away.
Charles Welsh.
Boston, Mass.
A Nursery Rhyme.—The following version of a nursery rhyme, which in variant form appears in books for children, was communicated to me many years ago by an English lady, who reached the age of ninety-six years, and who had learned the rhyme in her childhood:—
THE MOUSE, THE GROUSE, AND THE LITTLE RED HEN.
One day, the little red hen was pecking about, and she found a grain of wheat. "Oh! see here, see here," she said, "I have found some wheat: who will carry it to the mill to be ground, and we can have a cake?"
A Game of Children in Philadelphia.—The following rhyme is still danced by girls in the streets of Philadelphia:—
Talcott Williams.
Philadelphia, Pa.
​This rhyme furnishes a curious example of the continual admixture and degradation incident to children's songs. The essential feature is found in the third stanza, which condenses into three lines a history formerly much more elaborated; thus at the beginning of the century the verse went:—
He knocks at the door and picks up a pin,
And asks if Miss ——— is in.
"She neither is in, she neither is out,
She's in the garret a-walking about."
Down she comes, as white as milk,
A rose in her bosom as soft as silk.
She takes off her gloves and shows me a ring:
To-morrow, to-morrow, the wedding begins.
The verse bears marks of antiquity. Instead of the words "picks up a pin," originally must have stood "pulls at the pin," according to ancient ballad phraseology. The idea of the story is not clear, but obviously refers to the reappearance of a long-lost lover; recognition is effected in the usual manner by means of a ring. The "garret" here takes the place of the "high-loft" in Scandinavian antiquity; the upper story, in every considerable house, contained the apartments of the family. According to what appears to have been an ancient practice, the ballad was preceded by a game-rhyme. The song, "Little Sally Waters," was used in this way in order to determine the heroine; the words, "Water, water, wildflowers," show a confusion resulting from this combination. In England, we find the line running, "Willy, willy, wallflower;" a Philadelphia variant has "Lily, lily, white flower." The fourth and fifth stanzas, again, belong to a separate game; it was an ancient piece of satire that the illnesses of young women were best treated by the prescription of a lover. Finally, the last lines belong to an old Halloween rhyme:—
And if my love be clad in gray,
His love for me is far away;
But if my love be clad in blue,
His love for me is very true.
(See "Games and Songs of American Children," Nos. 12, 13, 35, 36.)
W. W. Newell.
A Dance-Rhyme of Children in Brooklyn, N. Y.—A circle having been formed, the children move slowly, singing as follows:—
Mamma bought me a pincushion, pincushion, pincushion,
Mamma bought me a pincushion,
One, two, three.
What did Mamma pay for it?
Paid with Papa's feather-bed.
What will Papa sleep on?
Sleep on the washtub.
What will Mamma wash in?
Wash in a thimble.
What will Mamma sew with?
Sew with a poker.
What will Mamma poke with?
Poke with her finger.
Supposing Mamma burns herself?
This is the end. Imagination apparently fails to answer the last question.
May Ovington.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
The song is a corruption of that belonging to the English game of "Milking-pails." In this amusement, a mother is confronted by a row of daughters, who announce:—
Mary 's gone a-milking, Mother, mother; Mary 's gone a-milking, Gentle, sweet mother of mine.
The mother then bids the child, "Take your pails and follow;" whereon the disobedient daughter asks her to "buy me a pair of new milking-pails." The question is then asked, "Where 's the money to come from?" whereon the reply is, that it may be obtained by selling the father's feather-bed, and a dialogue follows similar to that above printed. The washtub being sold, it will be necessary to wash in the river; in that case the clothes may be carried away, and the mother will be obliged to follow in a boat; the conclusion is, "Suppose the boat should be upset?" "Then that would be the end of you." A variant requires the mother to swim after the clothes. The fun consists in the pursuit of the unmannerly children, and their punishment. The game does not seem of very ancient character, and apparently has only been played in America in consequence of importation by recent immigrants. (See "Traditional Games," by Alice B. Gomme, London, 1894, pp. 376–388.)
W. W. N.
Negro Superstitions of European Origin.—The farther proceeds the collection of negro superstitions in America, the more clearly it appears that a great part of their beliefs and tales are borrowed from the whites. In the preceding number of this Journal (p. 228) it has been remarked that a particularly primitive superstition, according to which it is believed that the "trick bone" of a black cat confers the gift of invisibility, is identical with that of Canadian Germans; in both cases the belief has led ​to a practice. According to a common English expression, a black cat is said to be a witch. This opinion is indicated in a negro tale given on p. 68 of this volume, as collected by Mrs. Bergen in Maryland, "The brothers who married witches." One of the brothers, a miller, found it hard to obtain watchmen for his mill, those who undertook that office being driven away or killed. One man agrees to remain if he is given a sword. Black cats enter and extinguish the lights, and the watchman cuts off a paw, on which the cats fly. There remains a hand which has on it a gold ring, and this proves to belong to the miller's wife. In the old Irish tale of "Fled Bricrend," the hero, Cuchulainn, is set to watch in the hall of Cruachan, the royal house of Meath. Kittens are let into the house, who are beasts of enchantment; and the rivals of the hero, Conall Cernach and Loegaire, take to the crossbeams of the hall, leaving their food; a cat extends its paw to seize the provision of Cuchulainn, but he kills the creature with a blow from his sword. It is not said that the cats are witches, but that may be inferred. Thus the English tale now related by colored folk is connected in theme with ancient heroic saga.
W. W. N.
"Buffalo Chips" as a Remedy.—In a case of gangrene, which many years ago came under my notice, a doctor of local reputation, who had passed a number of years at a frontier post as post surgeon, stated that if "buffalo chips" could be obtained, applied to the injured part after being charred and frequently changed, the effect might prove beneficial, the effect being both absorbent and healing. This advice was acted on with advantage, and, if tried earlier, might have proved efficacious. The remedy is employed by Indians to facilitate the healing of abrasions and sores, and may be worth noting in connection with the popular medicine of American aborigines.
Seneca E. Truesdell.
Dakota, Minn.
An Aztec Spectre.—To "Blackwood" for December, 1898, Mr. Andrew Lang contributed "A Creelful of Celtic Stories,"—beliefs and experiences gathered by himself in remote parts of Scotland and Ireland. One old seer in Glencoe enlightened him about an ill-omened spectre named Flappan: Flappan, whose "steps sound like those of a large web-footed bird. He is of the stature of a short boy, but his face it is difficult to see distinctly."
Rather singularly, a paper by Mrs. Nuttall, in this Journal (April–June, 1895), quoting from Sahagun superstitions of the Aztecs, mentions "a small female dwarf, whose apparition at night was a presage of misfortune or death. This spectre is described as having long, loose hair to its waist, and as waddling along like a duck. It also evaded pursuers, and vanished and reappeared unexpectedly;" traits which suggest Flappan's half-seen face.
L. K.