American Old Time Song Lyrics: 38 Phil The Fluters Ball
Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 38
PHIL THE FLUTER'S BALL.
have you heard of Phil the fluter, of the town of Ballymuck?
The times were going hard with him-in fact, the man was bruck;
so he just sent out a notice to his neighbors one and all.
As how he'd like their company that evening at a ball.
And when writin' out he was careful to suggest to them,
"That if they found a hat of his couvaynient to the dure,
The more they put in, whenever be requested them.
The better would the music be for battherin' the flure."
With the toot of the flute, and the twiddle of the fiddle, O,
Hopping in the middle, like a herrin' on a griddle, O,
Up! down! hands aroun', crssin' to the wall.
On, hadn't we the gaiety at Phil the Fluter's ball.
There was Mister Denis Dogherty, who kep' the runnin' dog;
There was little crooked Paddy from the Tiraloughett bog.
There were boys from every Barony, and girls from ev'ry "art;"
And the beautiful Miss Bradys, in a private ass an' cart,
And along with them came bouncing Mrs. Cafferty.
Little Mickey Mulligan was also to the fore;
Rose, Suzanne and Margaret O'Rafferty,
The flower of Adrumgullion, And the pride of Pethravore.-Chorus.
First little Mickey Mulligan got up to show them how,
And then the widda' Cafferty steps out and makes her bow;
"I could dance you off your legs," says she, "as sure us you wore born,
If ye'll only make the piper play' The hare Was in the Corn;'"
So Phil plays up to the best of his ability,
The lady and the gentleman begin to do their share;
"Faith, then, Mick, it's you that has agility!"
"Begorra! Mrs Cafferty yer leppin' like a hare!" - Chorus.
Then Phil the fluter tipped a wink to little crooked Pat,
"I think it's nearly time," sez he, "for passing 'round the hat;"
As Paddy passed the canbeen 'round and looking mighty cute,
Sez, "Ye ve got to pay the piper when he plays on the flute;"
Then all joined in wid the greatest joviality.
Covering the buckle, and the shuffle and the cut;
Jigs were danced, of the very finest quality.
But the widda' bet the company at "handling the fat." - Chorus.