
THE LIBRARY · THE VALE
The Wandering Cups' Songbook
Seven songs and their performance notes, credited to no one by name, collected from the same low voices that beg bowl to bowl down every road in the Vale.
These seven are sung the same way in every inn between the Sered road and the coast, in the same low, patient voices that beg bowl to bowl down every road in the Vale and trade a lesson for a meal same as they always have. Ask outright who wrote them and not one will say. They will not lie to you about it, and they will not own it either, and by the time you have heard all seven twice you will stop asking, because you will know them too. [i]Up From the Dark[/i] [i]Called from the winch, answered from the shaft. Starts slow; quickens the higher the load comes.[/i] Heave away, the light won't wait — Ho, and up she comes! Heave away, we're running late — Ho, and up she comes! Down there's dark and up here's bread — Ho, and up she comes! Pull for the living, not the dead — Ho, and up she comes! What's in the box, boys — Ho, and up she comes! More than we've carried before — Ho, and up she comes! So heave it steady and heave it slow — Ho, and up she comes! And mind the rope's not yours to owe — Ho, and up she comes! [i]The Only Bridge[/i] [i]Sung slow, like a man reading a bill aloud. The slower, the funnier.[/i] There's thirty mile of gorge each way And a single span to cross, So the sergeant sets the price to pay And you pay it, or the loss. A penny for the cart, he says, A penny for the cow, A penny more for having asked Him why, and when, and how. I asked him once, is there no other road — He looked at me and grinned: 'There's the thirty miles of gorge, my friend, Or the way you already came in.' [i]The Cooper's Hoop[/i] [i]Never play this in a house with a temple sign on the door. You'll know inside one verse whether it's the right sort of room.[/i] The cooper's a patient man, they say, He'll work a barrel half the day, He wets the wood so it swells up right, Then hoops it snug, and hoops it tight. Oh, the cooper's thumb is strong and sure, He knows just how much a stave can endure, And when he's done there's a sound so sweet — The cask holds fast, and the job's complete. His wife tells the whole street he's the best in town, For an hour's work she's no cause to frown — And whatever you're thinking, hold your tongue, He only meant the barrel, when he sung. [i]Six Roads Home[/i] [i]For walking, not for sitting. Keep a slow, even pace.[/i] I've six roads home and no roof of my own, And a bowl gone empty since dawn, But every road's got a door that will open For a lesson traded plain. So I'll teach you the trick of the open hand, And you'll teach me the way through the fen, And neither one of us carries a debt When the sun comes up again. [i]One More Before the Door[/i] [i]Loud. Everyone joins the last line whether they know the words or not.[/i] Pour it out and pour it full, The night's not done, the night's not done, There's frost on the road and ice on the wool, But the fire's not out, so we're not done. One more before the door shuts fast, One more before the last cup's drained, Tomorrow's a day like all the past — Tonight's the one that's ours to spend. [i]The Ford Before the Bridge[/i] [i]Not for a paying room.[/i] Nine went into the Karth one spring, Before the tower stood, Nine went into the fast, cold thing That never kept its word. Eight came up, and then came seven, The count went down each year, Till the last old man looked up at heaven And said the rest were near. We don't sing this one for the coin, my friend, We don't sing it to be paid, We sing it once and let it end, For the nine the river stayed. [i]Sung for Supper[/i] [i]Last of the night, always. Empty the bowl before you start it.[/i] We've a song for the miller and a song for the maid, A song for the toll man who's never once paid For a supper, a bed, or a night by the fire — He gets his for free; we're the wandering choir. So fill up the bowl and we'll fill up the room, And sing you to bed like we're singing you home, And when you ask who wrote them, we'll tell you the truth — We never said we didn't, and that's all the proof.
KIND
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