He's A Devil in His Own Home Town by Irving Berlin and Grand Clark was published in 1914 and sung by John Canfield. Hear a Victor recording by Billy Murray here. One online source states that Berlin also provided the sheet music cover art!
He's got a farm, a great big farm
Two thousand acres of the very, very
Best land in the whole United States
He's got a reputation in the village
Known as a dude, a gosh darn dude
He would never do in New York City
But in his home town
[Refrain:]
He's a devil, he's a devil
He's a devil in his own home town
On the level, on the level
He's as funny as a clown
He spends a five cent piece, thinks nothing of it
His pants all creased, red vest above it
And when it comes to women, oh! oh! oh! oh!
He's a devil, he's a devil
Telling stories in a groc'ry store
On the level, on the level
Has 'em rolling on the floor
Down at the fair with all the other heckers
He received first prize for playing checkers
And he cheated
Can you beat it?
He's a devil in his own home town
[2nd verse:]
He's got an overcoat that's fine and furry
Gold-headed cane that came from Spain
They've even got him saying "I should worry"
Just like all the sporty city folks
You ought to see the way he spends his money
He bought a box of hole-proof socks
They would never do for New York City
But in his home town (chorus)
***
Rube Goldberg's song I'm The Guy ('noise,' ie, music by Bert Grant) dates to 1912. Goldberg had a cartoon series in the newspaper called I'm the Guy, featuring a cantankerous man who asserted preposterous claims. Read more here. Here Billy Murray sing it here or here.
People turn around to say: "Who's That?"
All the people cry, all the ladies sigh,
'Till they know exactly where I'm at
The Kaiser shines my shoes
The Csar pours out my boose,
And the King of England cuts my hair,
I eat a bale of hay for breakfeast [sic] every day,
I'm here, I'm there, I'm mostly every where.
I'm the guy that put the salt in the ocean
I'm the guy that put the bones in fish,
I'm the guy can't tell a lie, 'I'll always live, I'll never die.
In the wishbone, I'm the guy that put the wish
I'm the guy that put the smoke in chimneys
I'm the guy that put the leave on trees
What's that? Who and I? Don't you know?
I'm the guy that put the holes in sweitzer cheese.
I wear stylish clothes, I'm the guy that knows,
Why a chicken goes across the street.
I'm the only man knows how old is Ann,
And I place each copper on his beat
My shoes are diamond soled, my bed is made of gold,
Twenty thousand servants bring my meals
I'm chased by pretty girls and Dukes and Lords and Earls,
And I'm the final court of all appeals.
I'm the guy that put the sand on the beaches,
I'm the guy that put the crust on pies,
I'm the guy that's far and nigh,
I take a bath and come out dry,
I'm the guy that puts the wings on little flies
I'm the guy that put the hump on the camel
I'm the guy that put the cough in croup
What's That? Don't you know?
I'm the guy, I'm the guy that put the noise in noodle soup.
When I take a car, going fast and far,
No one dares to ask me for my fare
Ev'ry one who knows, says "look, there he goes!"
Gee, there's nothing to it, I'm a bear
I've got a million wives who'll sacrifice their lives,
Just to make things comf'table for me,
I live on fancy things, prepared by Queens and Kings,
I go to ev'ry show admission free.
I'm the guy that put the notes in music
I' the guy that put the horns on deer,
What's that? Who am I? Don't you know?
I'm the guy that put the foam on beer.
***
The comedy patter song Oh! Mister Gallagher and Mister Shean was featured in the Ziegfield Follies of 1922. Al Shean (born Abraham Schoenberg; he was a brother to the Marx brother's mother) and Edward Gallagher performed together between 1910 and 1914 then reunited for the 1920 Frivolities review with Gallagher & Shean in Egypt. Read more here and here.
Shean: Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Oh! Mister Gallagher!
Gallagher: Hello, what's on your mind
This morning, Mister Shean?
Shean: Ev'rybody's making fun
Of the way our country's run
All the papers say
We'll soon live European.
Gallagher: Why Mister Shean,
Why Mister Shean.
On the day they took away
Our old canteen,
Cost of living went so high
That it's cheaper now to die.
Shean: Positively, Mister Gallagher.
Gallagher: Absolutely, Mister Shean.
Shean: Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Oh! Mister Gallagher,
If you're a friend of mine,
You'll lend me a couple of bucks.
I'm so broke and badly bent,
And I haven't got a cent.
I'm so clean you'd think
That I was washed with Lux.
Gallagher: Oh! Mister Shean,
Oh! Mister Shean,
Do you mean to say
You haven't got a bean?
On my word as I'm alive,
I intended touching you for five.
Shean: Oh! I thank you Mister Gallagher.
Gallagher: You are welcome Mister Shean.
Shean: Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Once I think I saw you save a lady's life
In a rowboat out to sea.
You were a hero then to me,
And I thought perhaps
You've made this girl your wife.
Gallagher: Oh! Mister Shean,
Oh! Mister Shean,
As she sunk I dove down like a submarine,
Dragged her up upon the shore,
Now she's mine forever more.
Shean: Who, the lady, Mister Gallagher?
Gallagher: No, the rowboat, Mister Shean.
Shean: Oh! Mister Gallagher,
Oh! Mister Gallagher,
What's the name of that game
They play on the links?
With a stick they knock the ball
Where you can't find it at all,
Then the caddie walks around
And thinks and thinks.
Gallagher: Oh! Mister Shean,
Oh! Mister Shean,
You don't even know a hazard from a green.
Its become a popular game,
And you don't even know its name,
Shean: Sure it's croquet, Mister Gallagher.
Gallagher: No, lawn tennis, Mister Shean.
***
People's sense of humor was very different a hundred years ago. Ethnic background and race and class were all standard comedic fare.If You Knock the ''L' out of Kelly it Would Still be Kelley to Me by Sam. M. Lewis and Joe Young with music by Bert Grant, 1916. Illustration by the prolific illustrator Barbelle. This was a very popular song in both record and sheet music sales. Lewis also wrote Hello Central, Give Me No Man's Land and Where did Robinson Crusoe Go with Friday on Saturday Night.
Wanted his name painted over the door,
One day Pat Clancy, the painter man came;
Tried to be fancy and misspelled the name;
Instead of Kelly with double "L - Y"
He painted Kelly, but one "L" was shy,
Pat said, "it looks right, but I want no pay,
I've reasoned it out in my own little way."
Timothy Kelly looked up at the sign,
He told Pat Clancy "that's no name of mine,
As a sign painter you'll never go far,
You're a fine painter like Kelly you are;
Shame on you Clancy, just see what you've done,
You've spoiled the name of an Irishman's son"
"Don't let an "L" come between us" said Pat,
"I've figured it out like a real diplomat."
Chorus
If I knock the "L" out of Kelly,
It would still be Kelly to me;
Sure a single "L - Y" or a double "L - Y"
Should look just the same to an Irishman's eye
Still Killarney it always will be,
But if I knock the "L" out of Kelly,
Sure he'd knock the "L" out of me.
***
Everybody Works But Father by Jean Havez was performed by Lew Dockstader and his Great Minstrel Company, published in 1905. Listen to it here and an orchestral version here.Dockstader (born George Clapp) was the last great minstrel man who discovered Al Jolson. His comic monologues satirized Teddy Roosevelt. Today we view the minstrel show as having promoting racist stereotypes with its white men in blackface. This song is a good example of the stereotyping.
Every morning at six o'clock I go to my work,
With over coat buttoned up ‘round my neck no job would I shirk
Winter wind blows ‘round my head cutting up my face,
I tell you what I'd like to have my dear old father's place.
Chorus
Everybody works but father
And he sits around all day,
Feet in front of the fire
Smoking his pipe of clay,
Mother takes in washing
So does sister Ann,
Everybody works at our house but my old man.
A man named Work moved into town, and father heard the news,
With work so near my father started shaking in his shoes,
When Mister Work walked by my house he saw with great surprise,
My father sitting in his chair with blinders on his eyes.
(Chorus)
At beating carpets father said he simply was immense,
We took the parlor carpet out and hung it on the fence,
My mother said:"now beat it dear, with all you might and main"
And father beat it right back to the fireside again.
(Chorus)
***
I have trouble understanding how a song about an elderly man's pain was funny. I am sure that a hundred years ago that every man, if he lived long enough, suffered pain after the hard physical and manual labor his work entailed.Written in 1912, the 'coast to coast hit' I've Got the Rumatiz by Carl Summers was performed by the Texas Four. This sheet music dates to 1918; the original showed an African American man with a cane indicating the song was one more that used African Americans as a source of humor.
The best for "rumatizum" but they don't cure me
most everything in the old almanac I use;
But it don't do any good it just gives me the blues.
I used to 'sing and dance the wing, most every day,
I thought that it would surely keep the pain away
But Lordy, the old things got me sore
And I' all crippled up and don't dance anymore.
Chorus:
I've got the 'rumatiz', Oh, gee whiz!
I've got the 'rumatiz' all over me,
I've got it in my ankle and I've got it in my knee,
Now if a Doctor doesn't come here and cure my pain
Then I am positive that I will go insane
'Cause I've got 'rumatiz' Oh, gee whiz!
I've got the 'rumatiz' all over me.
Oh! It's the worst pain that a fellow ever knew,
The doctors all look wise but can't tell what to do,
They use a lot of big words I don't understan'
Write some chinese [sic] on a paper for the drugstore man.
"Do what I say and I am sure I'll do you good"
Said one old doctor and I was quite sure he would;
He got all my money for his fee,
Bt still I have the 'rumatiz' all over me.
Chorus
***
Prohibition took away what little 'fun' a man had. Written by the stellar team Andrew B. Sterling and Harry Von Tilzer, Whoa January You're Going to be Worse than July) commemorated the last days of legal alcohol in 1919. This is another cover by Barbelle. Listen to it here.
And ev'ry one thought there'd be nothing to buy.
But you got yours, and I got mine,
And ev'ry one was happy we were feeling fine.
But soon we'll be through, then won't we feel blue,
No more we'll hear that "have another" sound.
Can you picture me saying "gimme some tea"
When Mister January comes around?
Chorus: Whoa January, oh January,
I hate to see you come 'round
July was mighty tough, but we could get enough,
And if we knew the barman we could get the reg'lar stuff.
But oh January, whoa January
I'm so sad I want to cry.
You're the month that's going to make my life a wreck;
I know I will turn into a horses neck!
Whoa January when you go dry
You're going to be worse than July.
Last night in a dream, how real it did seem,
A raspberry soda all smothered with cream,
Said peek-a-boo I'll get you soon,
The time is coming when you have to use a spoon!
They filled you I hear with two percent beer,
But soon you'll be an ice-cream soda hound.
There's drinks we can pick, but not one with a kick,
When Mister January comes around.
Chorus: Whoa January, oh January,
I hate to see you come 'round
July you made us think we couldn't get a drink,
But when we wanted something all we had to do was wink.
But oh January, Whoa January
So long good old rock and rye.
Mister Beethoven never made a hit with me.
'Cause it hasn't got the right authority.
Whoa January when you go dry
You're going to be worse than July, going to be worse than July,
Going to be worse than July.
