Ginger Blue

For information on this song as part of the blackface minstrel tradition, please see
its page in The Juba Project's Minstrelsy Database.

For an alternate interpretation of this song, see The Mid-Atlantic Minstrel Show -- another item in this project's 'Artists Respond to Juba' section.

Credits

Art Babayants, piano; Alison Jutzi, vocals; Dennis Patrick, sound technician.

Lyrics

Image c. British Library, all rights reserved. Further reproduction is prohibited

Verse 1
Him name am Ginger Blue, an I’ll sing you facs a few
I am slick from de ole Torr riber,
My brography am clear, an de circumstances new.
As all who hab not heard ob his will diskiber.
Well den one ting dat I say, When my youthful tongue gib way,
To all de poor hard workin Niggers,

Verse 2
Once Rosa Anna Lee, was out fetchin ob a walk,
An de blanets in de sky war burnin;
Said she ‘Ginger Blue, what de matter wid you?’
While her eyes on mine war turnin.
At dat sentiment I feel like a Niagara eel,
And my heart for her hand did perspire _

“Ah dat lub! It am a bery unumcountable sort ob
feeling _ I shall neber forget he happy moment when
she gabe me dat compressive look: an when I trew
myself at her foots an ax her wot I should do to ewince
her ob my confection?” she told me to

Verse 3
Den I went an tole her Fader, who de most purlitely said,
“You’d better not be tinkin ob Miss Rosa,
For she hab got a knack ob hittin ob de head,
An pullin ob her true lubbers nose, sar,”
At de mention odd at hint, I did not stop to tink,
Went an saw wot he did not admire _

I seed a great big brack cuffer lookin Nigger, rollin
him pertinacious an unhansum eyes, an starin at Rosa
Anna Lee wid all dat feelin ob uninterested lub de ole
fox bear to de hen roost. _ Tinks I ole fello, glad my
nose not yours. _ What war my sprise to see her
return him delicate purtensions wid a sweet an
graceful smile. I run at dis ribal, I knock’d him twice
into noting, an as many times back again, turn’ him
on to his head _ put him on his heels, and made him

Verse 4
In a boat dat war a gwoin, I cut to New Orleans,
Out ob de way ob some Niggers; _
Soon as I had landed, twar de sweetest ob all scenes,
Jis to look upon de Gals lubly figgers!
I took off my hat and pointed out my heel,
Jis as de Gals began to admire _

Dere war de Captain ob de Ship I cum in, an some
oder berry influenza Gemblemen, (friens ob mine)
tole me as how, in a boat astern, dere war some
Ossifers makin ob de most infectionate inquiries _
When I hear dat, I meditly recollected a deal ob
important affairs a long way off, an a berry purticler
appointment good way furder _ an den I begun to

Chorus
“Walk chalk Ginger Blue,
right ober double trouble,
Ole Wirginny neber tire.”

Publication Information

Published by B. Williams, II. Paternoster Row, & 170 Gt. Dovor Rd., London.

British Library Shelf Number: H.2342