"Larry O'Gaff"

No personal notes.

Irish (originally), American, Canadian; Double Jig.

A Major (Bronner): D Major (Bayard, Flaherty, Levey, Silberberg, Stanford/Petrie): G Major (Allan, Bayard, Brody, Cole, Kennedy, Kerr, Perlman, Phillips, Sweet, Tolman): F Major (Hardings).

Standard tuning (fiddle). AB (Bayard, Bronner, Silberberg, Stanford/Petrie): AAB (Kerr): AABB (most versions): AABB' (Flaherty, O'Neill).

The "Larry O'Gaff" title for the tune comes from a nonsensical stage Irish song whose words are only rarely reported (they can be found in a folk version in Creighton's "Songs and Ballads from Nova Scotia"), and it appears the melody normally was used as an instrumental piece. The tune/song is firmly ensconced in the late minstrel/early vaudeville stage. It is usually associated with Northeastern players in the United States. The older title was probably "Hob or Nob" posits Bayard (1981), which was the title of an old British dance. Bronner (1987) suggests a connection with "The Campbells Are Coming" and "Miss McLeod's Reel," which his source (central N.Y. fiddler Les Weir) also called "Hob or Knob". He thinks that the popularity of "Larry O'Gaff" may come from its ability to replace the aforementioned tunes at country dances. In fact, by 1858 it was reported not as a jig but as a country dance in Howe's Ball Room Hand Book. David Taylor (1992) remarks at the similarity of the piece with the Irish jig "Daniel O'Connell," and says that the two tunes, though commonly played in different keys, are often confused. He further notes "Bundle and Go," which is listed as an alternate title for "Larry O'Gaff" by Roche, is an alternate title (though an unusual one) for his "Daniel O'Connell." "O'Gaff" was cited as having commonly been played for country dances in Orange County, New York, in the 1930's (Lettie Osborn, New York F olklore Quarterly). The title appears in the repertoire list of Maine native Mellie Dunham, an elderly fiddler who was Henry Ford's champion dance musician in the mid 1920's. Words to the ‘A' part of the tune begin:

It was early on Monday, I mean late on a Sunday,
We went to the wedding of Darvey McGraw.

Let your quacks and newspapers be cuttin' their capers
And curing the Vapours, the Scratch and the Gout.
With their medical potions, their pills and their lotions,
Upholdin' their notions, they're mighty put out.
Who can tell the true physic of all things pathetic
And pitch to the Devil Cramp, Colic and Spleen?
Oh you'll find them I think if you take a big drink
With your mouth to the brink of a jug of Poteen.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh what botherations no bolt to the nation
Can bring consolation like Poteen me boys.
No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic
Or ladies pathetic can bring such a bloom
As the sweet, by the powers to the garden of flowers
Never brought it own powers such a darlin' perfume.
And this liquid's so rare if you're willin' to share
To be takin' your hair when its grizzled and dead.
Oh the Sod has the merit to yield the true spirit
So strong it'll shake all the hairs from your head.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh since its perfection no doctor's direction
Can cleanse the complexion like Poteen me boys.

As a child in my cradle the nurse from her ladle
Was swillin' her mouth with a notion of “Pep�
When a drop from her bottle fell into me throttle.
I capered and scrambled right out of her lap.
On the floor I lay crawlin' and screamin' and bawlin'
Till Father and Mother soon came to the fore.
Conceived I lay dying, all wailing and crying
They found I was only a-cryin' for more.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord how I'd chuckle if babes in their truckle
Could only be suckled on Poteen me boys.
Through youthful digressions and times of depression
My childhood impression still clung to me mind.
In school and in college the basis of knowledge
I never could gulp ‘till with whiskey combined.

Now as older I'm growin', time's ever bestowin'
On Erin's potation a flavour so fine
And how e're they may lecture on Jove and his nectar
Itself is the only true liquid divine.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord it's the right thing for courtin' and fightin'
There's nowt so exciting as Poteen me boys.

Come guess me this riddle what beats pipes and fiddle
What's hotter than mustard and wilder than cream?
What best wets your whistle, what's clearer than crystal
Smoother than honey and stronger than steam?
What'll make the dumb talk, what'll make the lame walk —
The elixir of life and philosopher's stone?
And what helped Mr. Brunell to dig the Thames tunnel
Wasn't it Poteen me boys from old Innishowen.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord knows I wonder if lightning and thunder
Was made from the plunder of Poteen me boys!