Rare, Collectible, & Otherwise

Tag: oklahoma (Page 67 of 115)

It’s a’ for the Hiney he’ll cherish the bee.

Of course, you recognize those memorable song lyrics, from My Tocher’s the Jewel, words from tha’ grreat Scotsman Rrrobbie Burrns, and sung to the tune of The Muckin’ o’ Geordie’s Byre. (Drawing a blank? Here are the first couple of lines, to refresh your memory: O meikle thinks my love o’ my beauty, And meikle thinks my love o’ my kin… (join in now) But little thinks my love I ken brawlie, My tocher’s the jewel has charms for him!

Whew. Brings a tear to my eye.

You know those songs that keep rolling around in your head – do you suppose they are ones that your grandkids might sing? Or… flip it around. Can you sing all the songs that might have popped into your grandfather’s head? Does music have a shelf-life? Or can a song expire?

Do some tunes wither up and disappear?

Part of the answer to that question is sitting on the desk in front of me. But just part. And, even that is limited, because none of my grandparents were living in Scotland when this book was published. Might have some Scots in the family tree somewhere back in history, hopping in their kilts and belting out “The Birks of Aberfeldie” at the top of their lungs.

That’s one of the jewels in “Lyric Gems of Scotland,” Price: Two Shillings & Sixpence Net, Arranged with Pianoforte Accompaniments, published by Bayley & Ferguson (pronounced Billy n’ Fairgissen), Glasgow.

There is no date in this old song book, but a British dealer who owns a copy estimates it was published about 115 years ago. And what ditties do you suppose the young larks were perpetrating back then?

How about: In a Wee Cot Hoose Far Across the Muir. (Could be: In a wee cottage house far across the moor. I’m just saying.)

Or, Keen Blaws the Wind o’er the Braes. Doun the Burn Davie Love. Fareweel, Fareweel my Native Hame. You’ll want to remember favorites like, I Gaed a Waefu Gate Yestreen and – Gae Bring to Me a Pint O’ Wine. And many, many more! (Scots version: and Minnie! Minnie Moore!)

Remember, these are all English words. Just delivered with a wee bit o’ that fain Scottish brogue.

Here’s the thing. There are actually a few titles that I do know, songs that have survived a century or more.

Auld Lang Syne, for one. You remember that one from New Year’s Eve. Some of you will remember Guy Lombardo and his orchestra. (Most of you won’t.) Their version of that song is still the first song played at the stroke of midnight in Times Square, to kick off the New Year. Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and all that. Or as we sing it, Should OLD acquaintance be forgot…

How about – By Yon Bonnie Banks? (Although I always heard this song as being titled Loch Lomond): Sing along with me now… By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes. Where the sun shines bright on Loch Looooooo-mond. Okay. That’s enough singing.

Well, then. I suppose there might be another one somewhere that I could recall. I only WISH I knew the entry on page 104: My Heart is a-Breakin’ Dear Tittie. You know it has to be an innocent “sing around the hearth-fire with the children” kind of song. At least, it was when this book was published. These days, I don’t think it would make the cut for a Sesame Street performance.

I’m still wondering how many of these songs are still known in Scotland – whether these were “gems” that stood the test of time or if some became somewhat lagging in popularity outside the campfires of the sheep herders.

For my money (which it is, at this point – until someone else buys the book), the best thing to be found on the pages is the inscription from 1911. The recipient of the songbook knew who it was from, but unfortunately the giver did not sign his name. As you can see in the image, the book was given:

“Frae yer ‘Brither’ in Auld Reekie. August 17, 1911.”

That just makes me want to sing.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow, OK!

Different Kind of Big Mac.

Historically nice afternoon in the Rose District and here I am at the shop trying to restore order, sorting through a major collection, and finding a few treasures!

That always makes working on Sunday a little more satisfying.

Might have been the phase of the moon or the lower pollen count. Whatever reason, Friday and Saturday wound up being Receiving Dock days, with bags and boxes of books rolling in over the threshold.

Naturally, I don’t want to start the week out with stacks and stacks of volumes piled on every flat surface, so I’ve taken the price gun in hand and the book cart rumbling down the aisles loaded with interesting additions to the inventory. Trying to get the majority of them shelved before the weekend is over. Some interesting finds.

Case in point: First Edition, First Printing copy of David McCullough’s biography of John Adams, signed by the author.

The historian apparently favors signing with flowing-ink pens, which makes the autograph look almost suspiciously attractive. But, those old-school writing instruments also provide enough ink to partially bleed through the paper, authenticating the signature as the real deal.

If that wasn’t enough, the original owner of the book included a Tulsa Town Hall program from April, 2004 – when David McCullough spoke on “History as a Source of Strength” at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center. And signed a copy of his book for a reader in attendance.

The dust jacket is now safely protected in a mylar cover and ready to make a spectacular addition to someone’s personal library.

It’s times like this that I wish it possible for me to be a collector of books, instead of a seller!

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main St. Broken Arrow, OK!

Leanin’ on a lamppost. (Irish Olympic event.)

It’s a little bit like a flashlight with no batteries. You can bonk someone on the head with it, but only in the bright of day. Actually, it is nothing like that at all. The drift is, the bulb is missing, but the lamppost has been restored to its valued place on the sidewalk.

Hoo-haw!

My neighbor JoAnne (Hollow Tree Gifts) dropped in this morning, happy and sad at the same time. The good-news bad-news concerned the sidewalk in front of her shop. There wasn’t one. That was then.

I moseyed (have you moseyed lately?) down to her end of the block this afternoon and the workers are smoothing the last of the cement. She should be able to open her front door to customers in the morning.

In the sidewalk planter in front of the book shop are two gentlemen who are installing the landscaping irrigation and drainage. That’s a good thing. I was worried at the beginning when mention was made of the merchants taking care of the plants in front of their own stores. No objections from me regarding the work involved – it’s only my memory and the responsibility of keeping thirsty plants alive.

I’d hate to be the one who killed off the roses in the Rose District.

You can see in the image my headless-lamppost and in the other a view from the front-door looking north. For now, you’ll have to imagine the green foliage and rosebushes.

The block from Commercial to Dallas is getting back to normal, at least during the daytime. The tall lamps have banished the darkness, but it will be a much brighter nighttime on Main when all of the lamps are lit.

Timetables are approximate, but there are hopes that everything will be ready to go by the time the Main Street Merchants’ annual Tee-off comes around, mid-month. That’s the Holiday Shopping Season jump-start for the downtown businesses in which many of the stores hold open-house type events, and in previous years the event has featured horse-drawn carriage rides, live music, and traveling minstrel shows. (Okay. I made that last part up.)

A couple of ladies dropped in during the lunch hour just to see what “all the Rose District talk is about.” I’m glad to know there is talk going on and that it is piquing the curiosity of area shoppers. I hope they’ll come back with things are a little more tidy and the orange barrels have moved to some other B.A. location.

There is still plenty of work going on inside the shop, as well. Just shelved a nearly-complete Hardy Boys collection, nicely kept hardback volumes.

Traipsing down to the library (have you traipsed lately?) as a vacation-reading maniac one summer, I had as a goal to read every one of the mysteries. The librarian had a sheet of paper imprinted with an image of a suitcase, and with each completed book she applied a colorful “travel” sticker to the page. We naive young bookworms were traveling around the world through the printed page. My suitcase runneth over with stickers and – all the while – I was saved the worry of nasty tropical mosquito-borne diseases and Montezuma’s Revenge.

Golly-gee, it was a simpler time back then, wasn’t it? But, dad-gummit, I fell for it and wound up reading a stack of books that summer. In retrospect, I should have been practicing my little-league baseball skills. (Then again, I probably had better later-life prospects as a librarian than a second-baseman.)

The roast beef is on the stove and aroma drifting ‘round the shop is reminding me of Grandma Mamie’s Sunday table and Grandma Sylvia’s Thanksgiving spread. Irish stew weather is fast approaching. The kitchen is calling and my oven mitts are at the ready.

Come visit!

McHuston

Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, Broken Arrow OK!

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