Melody Time
It's time to swing along
To a happy land of sound
Where love is the thing
Melody Time
It's time for sweet romance
Won 't you give your heart a chance
To join in and sing?
Take a tip from the birds You don 't need words
For music has charm
It's the language of love
When your love's in your arms
Rhythm and rhyme
Sure help a heart along
So come on and sing a song
It's Melody Time
It's Melody Time, time to hitch your wagon to a song,
as a song is the one and only thing
that will take you to the land where music is king.
So join in the fun. There's something here for everyone.
You'll find rhythm, romance, reason, rhyme,
something ridiculous. Something sublime!
You can 't go wrong if you swing along Come to thejubilee
It's Melody Time
The memory of wintertime long ago,
of clear, crisp air and new-fallen snow,
of frost on a windowpane, of sleigh-bells heard from the lane.
In this wonderland, romance is the theme,
for this is the story of love's young dream.
Don 't you kind of love December
When the merry snowbells chime?
We're together
Once upon a wintertime
Every single snowflake falling
Plays a jingle down your spine
Lovely weather
Once upon a wintertime
On the frozen pond, folks are swaying
Sweetheart, who cares?
We'll have more fun sleighing
Behind two chestnut mares
When we say, ''Goodbye, December, ''
Merry bells no longer chime
We'll remember
Once upon a wintertime
Don 't you kind of love December
When the merry snowbells chime?
We're together Once upon a wintertime
Every single snowflake falling
Plays a jingle down your spine
Here we are together, lovely weather Once upon a wintertime
Jingle bells, jingle all the way
On the frozen pond, folks are swaying
Sweetheart, who cares?
We'll have more sleighing
Behind two chestnut mares
When we say, ''Goodbye, December, ''
Merry bells no longer chime
We'll remember Once upon a wintertime
Remember December Once upon a wintertime
On the frozen pond, folks are swaying
Sweetheart, who cares?
We'll have more fun sleighing
Behind two chestnut mares
When we say, "Goodbye, December,"
Merry bells no longer chime
We'll remember
Once upon a wintertime
Freddy Martin, an admirer of the classics,
inspired by Rimsky-Korsakov's Flight of the Bumble Bee,
interprets this fantasy in his unique style.
In a furious flight, a confused character tries to escape
from the hectic harmony of an instrumental nightmare.
In American folklore, mighty men have left the symbols of their greatness.
There was Paul Bunyan's axe.
John Henry's hammer.
Davy Crockett's rifle.
Then, unexpectedly, one comes upon a tinpot hat,
a bag of appleseed and a holy book.
These are the symbols of one of the mightiest men of all,
John Chapman, a real-life pioneer.
However, reality has given way to legend.
Today, we know him simply as Johnny Appleseed.
This is his story, told by an old settler who knew Johnny well.
Listen.
Every time I see an apple-blossom sky, I think of Johnny Appleseed.
Them clouds up there ain't really clouds at all, no, sir!
There wouldn't be no apple-blossom sky if it weren't for...
But now, hold on here. I'd better start at the beginning.
Johnny lived on a farm near Pittsburgh.
The year was 1 806 or there around.
You'd say Johnny Appleseed never would make a pioneer,
he was such a scrawny little fellow.
That didn't faze Johnny.
He had his apple trees, the morning sun and the evening breeze.
The Lord is good to me
So I thank the Lord For giving me the things I need
The sun and rain and apple seed
Yes, he's been good to me
I owe the Lord so much For everything I see
If it weren 't for him There'd be no apples on this limb
He's been good to me
Here am I 'neath the blue sky Doing as I please
Singing with my feathered friends
Humming with the bees
I wake up every day As happy as can be
Because, with his care, My apple trees will still be there
The Lord is good to me
Working, singing, carefree and gay, that's how Johnny spent each day,
attending to his apple trees.
But, lately,Johnny would feel a stir in the air.
The rumbling, rolling beat of restless men with restless feet.
Get on a wagon rolling west Out to the great unknown
Get on a wagon rolling west Or you'll be left alone
We've made a home before We're starting now again
We ain 't afeared of man or beast We're strong and hardy men
So, get on a wagon rolling west Seeking a land that's new
So, get on a wagon rolling west There's plenty of room for you
Get on a wagon rolling west Out to the great unknown
Get on a wagon rolling west Or you'll be left alone
The rivers may be wide The mountains may be tall
But nothing stops the pioneer We're trailblazers all
Get on a wagon rolling west Out to the great unknown,,,
Get on a wagon rolling west
Or you'll be left alone
Poor Johnny. He weren't no pioneer and he knowed it.
It was all just pretend.
Those going west to build this nation made picking apples look useless.
Well, that's when a miracle happened.
- What's holding you?... - ..Says a voice.
Go on. Go on out west if that's your choice.
Well, it was an angel, Johnny's own private guardian angel.
He looks mighty queer to you and me,
but that's just the way John figured he'd be.
Well, speak up, boy. Don't stand there gawking.
- Unlock your jaw and get talking. - Yes, sir!
Why don't I go west?
I ain't got the muscle or the breadth of chest.
There it's the strong men who survive and I'm the puniest fella alive.
Shame to you,Johnny!
You've got faith, courage and a level head.
But shucks. You see, sir, all I know is apple trees.
What's wrong with apples, if you please? Ain't they the finest fruit?
Shoot, man! They take the cake!
Just think of all the things that apples make.
There's apple pickles...
Tasty apple tarts, apple pastry, apple dumplings
- Not to mention,,, -Apple sass?
Apple fritters light as thistle
And for folks to wet their whistle Tangy apple cider
- Stew, fry, boil, bake 'em -Apple pie and apple cake 'em
You can cook them any way
Apple this, apple that Recipes to fill your hat
I could carry on like this all day
So pack your stuff and get going Get them apple trees growing
There's a lot of work out there to do
There's a lot of work to do
Yes, sir! I mean, no, sir.
You see, sir, I ain't got none of the things I'll need out there.
You ain't got...?
Boy, I'm ashamed of you! You've got the stuff to see you through.
You've got the seeds you're needing, and for good reading,
there ain 't nothing finer than your book
Here's a handy bonnet, even got a handle on it.
Turn it upside down and you can cook
So, come on, get going Get them apple trees growing
There's a lot of work out there to do
There's a lot of work to do!
Well, that's how it all began.
That's how Johnny, all alone, set out to meet the great unknown.
It was a mighty big, fierce place for a man to face.
A little man, and all alone,
without no knife, without no gun.
Though the forest is dark and wide,
with fearsome critters on every side,
Johnny just kept walking on.
He walked until he found a spot of open ground
with fertile soil and warm breeze, a likely place for apple trees.
The varmints couldn't know if John was friend or foe.
Some took off in sudden flight.
And some got set to claw and bite.
If Johnny saw them, he paid no heed, just got busy planting apple seed.
Varmints came from everywhere to watch him digging there.
Didn't like what they were seeing, didn't trust no human being.
That ornery human had to go. But who was going to tell him so?
Not a soul could answer that till there came a black and white cat.
He weren't too bright but he didn't care.
He knowed he had a certain air about him.
Well, sir, that done it.
The critters had never seen that, the likes of a human liking that cat.
Why, this little man had busted every precedent.
He was the very first to come without no knife, without no gun.
And so it was, from that time on, every varmint was a friend to John.
They surely was.
The Lord is good to me
And so I thank the Lord For giving me the things I need
The sun and rain and apple seed Yes, he is good to me
As time went by, Johnny kept planting his apple trees
and making friends everywhere.
His best friends were the pioneers, for he was planting more than trees.
He was planting his own boundless faith and courage.
That gave folks new heart, new hope in the job they had to do.
As more pioneers came to push back the forest,
the kindly deeds of Johnny Appleseed
spread throughout the land.
More than once, with a good jubilee,
folks would honour Johnny Appleseed
and the fruit of the apple tree.
Come out to the right of the ring. Inside arch.
Ain't gonna rain, got no thunder.
First and third, follow swing. Come out of the ring.
I'll swing yours and you swing mine. I'll swing my girl.
Go straight to a do-si-do kicking out dough.
A little bit of roll, home we go.
If John was passing, he'd mosey over and look in on the doings.
It tickled him how the fruit of his labours brought folks together.
Now, duck for the apple.
Thank you, son. Apple core!
Bite that apple to the core.
Ready now. Men left with the left hand.
Back to your partner
Whirl them right, whirl them wrong, right then left. Apple core!
Look at the pretty girl's eye once more.
Come and get it! The table's set!
It's all waiting to be ate. Come and get it!
- Apple pickle. - Mighty tasty.
- Apple butter. - Apple pastry.
- Apple dumplings. - Like some apple sass?
Johnny brought folks a heap of happiness.
He wasn't looking for thanks. Didn't have time for it.
He knowed a man can't rest
if he aims to plant the wilderness in apple trees.
So for more than 40 years,John walked and planted that old frontier.
40 years of walking and planting.
In that space of two score year,
this little man throwed his shadow clear across the land,
across 1 00,000 miles square.
In that shadow everywhere, he left his blessings three.
God and faith
And the apple tree
For sleeping, you take the cake. Get up.
- We've a long trip to make. - Why, Mr Angel, howdy do?
- I'm fine. And how be you? - I'm fine.Just feeling...
Who's that, sleeping in the dusk?
- That's just your mortal husk. - My husk?
You mean to say I'm... I'm passed away?
I just can't go! Got crops to harvest, seeds to sow.
Now, now, now, hold on, boy!
Down here on earth, your work is through.
But yonder, well, we need you,Johnny.
Yep, we sure do.
You think we have most all we please, but we ain't.
We're kind of short on apple trees.
Well, I swan!
I didn't know. What are we waiting for? Come on, let's go!
We're wasting time, let's get going Get them apple trees growing
There's a lot of work up there to do
There's a lot of work to do!
Now you know why, whenever I see that certain sky,
I think of little John.
If you recall, them clouds ain't really clouds at all.
They're apple blossoms if you please
from John's heavenly orchard of apple trees.
And some day there'll be apples there
For everyone in the world to share
The Lord is good to me!
There's drama, excitement and harmony for three
in this story of adventure on the sea.
Featured in this epic is a ship of proud design.
It's not this ocean liner, we take a different line.
With a huff, a puff, a chug-chug-chug and a perky little hoot,
we introduce our hero, the tugboat, Little Toot.
Little Toot was just a tug A happy harbour tug
He came from a line of tugboats fine and brave
But it seems that Little Toot Simply didn 't give a hoot
Though he tried to be good He never could behave
Heave-ho, my lad! I'm a big toot just like my dad
Pull big boats with a yo-heave-ho And away we go
Chug-a-chug-chug-chug
He made the ocean liners wait While he made a figure 8
With the greatest of ease He cut through the seas
He went too far one day He slid in Big Toot's way
And it wasn 't a joke For it nearly broke Big Toot's pride
Won 't you ever grow up, Little Toot?
When there's work to be done All you think of is fun
Won 't you ever grow up, Little Toot?
Little Toot had quite a scare
He decided then and there
That he'd try to be good As good as he could be
So when his dad came puffing slow
With a mighty ship in tow
Little Toot went to help him Take it out to sea
Heave-ho, my lad! I'm a big toot just like my dad
Push big boats with a yo-heave-ho! And away we go!
Chug-a-chug-chug-chug
Won 't you ever grow up, Little Toot?
When you get into trouble
You get into it double
Won 't you ever grow up, Little Toot?
What a shame, what a shame
You've disgraced your father's name
Won 't you ever grow up
Little Toot?
1 2 MILE LIMIT
Bad boy!
Shame!
Too bad!
He was drifting all around When a storm came crashing down
In the billowing sea he tossed
He was filled with fear He knew the rocks were near
With the waves in pursuit Little Toot knew all was lost
Then he saw a rocket's flare Bursting in the air
And he suddenly knew That he must do or die
A ship was in distress As he puffed an SOS
He raced to the rescue Of the ship nearby
Try!
Do or die!
It seems you've grown up, Little Toot Toot toot!
You're a brave You're a brave Little Toot
Can 't you hear that cheering crowd? You have made your daddy proud
You are now a big toot, Little Toot
Yes, you're now a great big toot, Little Toot!
There's poetry in trees. Then one day a poet found it.
Then a music master wove around it a melody.
An artist touched it, gave it form in colours rich and warm.
Now we bring to you these three, poem, picture, melody.
A simple tribute to a tree.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed
Against the earth 's sweet flowing breast
A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair
Upon whose bosom snow has lain
Who intimately lives with rain
Poems are made
By fools like me
But only God
Can make a tree
With the intoxicating rhythm of the samba,
we serve up a musical cocktail with true Latin American flavour.
If three boisterous birds of a feather
fall under the influence of this tropical tempo,
don't blame them, blame it on the rhythm of the samba.
If your spirits have hit a new low
And they long to hit a new high
One little musical cocktail
Will lift them to the sky
Mix a jigger of rhythm
With the strain of a few guitars
Add a dash of the samba
And a few melodious bars
And then,,,
You take a spark of bossa
One fandero
Take a wiggle
You've got the fascinating rhythm of the samba
And if guitars are strumming Birds are humming
Drums are drumming Then blame it on the samba
It's the beat you cling to The type of song you sing to
The kind of thing you swing to With the beat in your feet
When you're bouncing to the beat you're reeling
With the carioca feeling
But if you want to hit the ceiling Here is all you have to do
You take a spark of bossa
One fandero
Take a wiggle
You've got the fascinating rhythm of the samba
Here's a tall tale, just the way the old timers used to tell them.
Pecos Bill was the roughest, toughest shootingest cowpoke that ever lived.
Any story about Pecos is bound to be strong medicine.
Maybe it's best to sashay into it gently.
Shades of night are falling
As the wind begins to sigh
And the world is silhouetted
Against the sky
Blue shadows on the trail
Blue moon shining through the trees
And the plaintive wail from the distance
Comes a-drifting
On the evening breeze
Move along, blue shadows!
Move along!
Soon the dawn will come
And you'll be on your way
But until the darkness sheds its veil
There'll be blue shadows
On the trail
Move along, blue shadows
Move along
Soon the dawn will come
And you'll be on your way
On your way
But until the darkness sheds its veil
There'll be blue shadows
On the trail
Shadows on the trail
Uncle Roy, what makes the wolves howl like that?
Wolves? Those are coyotes.
Yes, Bobby's right. They howl when the moon is bright.
- Why? - That's quite a story.
- Cowboys in it? - Yes, sirree.
- Indians, too? - Could be two or three.
Mostly this story's about Pecos Bill.
Pecos Bill? Who's he?
- Never heard of Pecos Bill? - Imagine!
I thought everybody knows Pecos.
Bill was the world's greatest buckaroo.
The roughest, toughest critter Never was a quitter
Cos he never had no fear for man or beast
Pecos Bill was...
Easy, Trigger, I won't forget his horse, Widowmaker.
- Widowmaker? - That's a funny name.
That horse earned it, just the same.
- A killer. - Dynamite.
Widowmaker was Bill's best pal.
Until along came that beautiful prairie gal.
- Shucks, a woman! - But what a woman.
She was fresh as the dew
On a prairie rose
A true thoroughbred
From her head to her toes
That there was Slue Foot Sue
Sweet Sue
I'd rather hear about the coyotes.
You started to say...
Why coyotes howl at the moon that way?
You're right. It all fits together. You can't tell one without the other.
The story of Bill and that gal is the story of why coyotes howl.
I'm getting to the details now.
Here on the map of the old US,
completely surrounded by wilderness, lies Texas.
- There are some other states. - Like Wyoming.
- Milwaukee. - Long Island South.
Down Texas way, a river flows. Where it comes from nobody knows.
Where it's going, don't no one care. Just glad it's leaving there.
- The Pecos River. - Pure alkali.
- Naturally mean water. - The buzzards won't even touch it.
Into this fertile garden spot came a prairie cart.
There was Ma and Pa and 1 6 brats,
- four hound dogs. - And a couple of cats.
- Going west looking for elbow room. - Sure could use some of the same.
Crossing the river bed, something fell out on to his head.
They didn't even know he was gone.
The wagon just kept rolling along.
It was Bill, poor little critter.
Homeless as a poker chip.
Along came night and a prairie moon
Old Ma Coyote a-hurrying home
She was due for a shock at herjourney's end
The stork had delivered a dividend
- One more than usual! - It had never happened before.
Probably one of them new-fangled models.
- Bill looked up and grinned - Shucks!
Ma 's old heart just caved in
Bill saw that he needn 't fear He'd staked himself a claim here
Headed straight for the chuck wagon.
Bill was hungrier than a woodpecker with a headache.
It followed as natural fact
that Bill growed up with that coyote pack.
He soon became the top hand in a way they all could understand.
Little Bill couldn't rest till he'd proved himself the best.
He studied other varmints, too, then showed them a trick or two.
Outloped the antelope.
Outjumped the jackrabbit.
Bill even outhissed the rattlesnake.
Then one day
Across the burning sand
A stranger came
To the Pecos land
The usual committee Was there today
To welcome their guest
In the usual way
Fifty to one weren't no fair fight,
but one plus Bill made it just about right.
Well, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
They stuck together like warts on a toad, like birds of a feather.
When Bill growed up, of course,
he chose a career to suit him and his horse.
Yep, Bill became a rootin', tootin' cowboy.
Pecos Bill was quite a cowboy down in Texas
The western superman, to say the least
The roughest, toughest critter Never was a quitter
Cos he never had no fear of man nor beast
So yippee aye-ay, aye-ay! Yippee aye-o!
For the toughest critter west of the Alamo
So yippee aye-ay!
Yippee aye-o!
Once, a drought spread all over Texas,
so to sunny Californy he did go.
Though the gag is corny He brought rain from Californy
That's the way we got the Gulf of Mexico
So yippee aye-ay aye-ay! Yippee aye-yo!
For the toughest critter west of the Alamo
Once a band of rustlers stole a herd of cattle
but they didn't know it was Bill's.
When he caught them villains, Pecos knocked out all their fillings.
That's why there's gold in them hills.
So yippee aye-ay! Yippee aye-o!
For the toughest critter west of the Alamo
Pecos lost his way
- While travelling on the desert - Water!
It was 90 miles across the burning sand
Water!
He knew he'd never reach the border
- Water! - If he didn 't get some water
Water!
So he got a stick and dug the Rio Grande
While a tribe of painted Indians did a war dance
Pecos started shooting up their little game
He gave them such a shake-up They jumped out from their make-up
That's how the Painted Desert got its name
So yippee aye-ay aye-o!
For the toughest critter west of the Alamo
Reclining on a cloud high over Texas,
with his gun, he made the stars evaporate.
He saw the stars declining, so he left one brightly shining
as the emblem of the lone star Texas state.
So yippee aye-ay, aye-ay! Yippee aye-o!
Them was happy days for Bill and that horse.
Looked like nothing could come between them.
Then it happened.
Bill was happy that day, killing time in his carefree way,
inventing the one-man rodeo and butting heads with the buffalo.
Poor Bill, happy as a hog in a turnip patch and then,
Old Man Fate started dealing from the bottom of the deck.
Down the stream came Slue Foot Sue, all her charms revealed to view.
Like something from a dream, the first woman Bill's ever seen.
She was strange.
- Unusual. - Yeah, but powerfully stimulating.
Like a slug of rye on an empty stomach.
Give him a right peculiar feeling, set his senses reeling,
with a pounding inside his ears like the galloping of steers.
His chest was churning
His brain was burning with a fire that could only be cooled...
In the beckoning depths Of two blue limpid pools
Yep, l'amour had come to Pecos Bill.
Widowmaker was puzzled. Looked like trouble to him.
He sure was right.
Bill was busy inventing courting, western style.
He arranged for the moon
To risejust right
And flood the land
With a silvery light
Ordered the stars
In heaven above
To form a token
Of undying love
Then across the sky
In words of fire
Bill told sweet Sue
Of his own heart's desire
Sweet Sue
I love you
Sue named the wedding day but Bill had a price to pay.
Sue wanted a bustle, the finest, of course,
and she aimed to be wedded riding Bill's horse.
Sue got her bustle and it was classy.
Put the finishing touch on her chassis.
That happy blushing bride was busting with girlish pride.
But Bill had promised her a ride on Widowmaker.
Would that horse let Sue ride?
Here comes the answer. Fit to be tied!
- Widowmaker was irritated. - But that didn't bother Sue.
She walked up to his side, touched his bristling hide.
With a flick of her bustle, Sue was aboard and sat for the tussle.
The proceedings commenced forthwith.
No doubt about it, that Sue was a regular female buckaroo.
And then... that bustle.
Underneath the frills and flounces, Sue developed plenty of bounces.
More than she could handle.
Then Sue took off like a Roman candle.
That devilish contraption of steel and wire
bounced the poor girl higher and higher.
It was plain to the multitude that Sue was gaining altitude.
Looked like she was a goner.
But no! A ray of hope.
Look! Bill and his trusty rope.
He'd darned soon put a stop to this.
Shucks. Bill was never known to miss.
Bill was calm, confident. He built his loop with careless ease.
He judged his distance, tested the breeze.
Then a whirl and a twirl and a twist of the wrist, he let her go!
But the champion missed!
How it come to happen, nobody could figure out.
She was off again on her heavenly flight.
Up she went, clean out of sight.
Till, far into space, this unfortunate maid
finally come to the moon, and that's where she stayed.
In the state of Texas, USA, life still goes on in the same old way.
The Pecos River still flows on, but the greatest cowboy on earth is gone.
Yeah, Bill went back to the coyotes, but he never forgot Sue.
Every night when the moon was high,
he'd lift his voice in a mournful cry,
bewailing the fate of his lady fair,
his long-lost love in the sky up there.
So painful was his grief to see, the varmints joined in out of sympathy.
That's how come, to this very day, coyotes howl at the moon that way.
Move along, blue shadows
Move along
Soon the dawn will come
And you'll be on your way
On your way
But until the darkness sheds its veil
There'll be blue shadows
On the trail
Shadows on the trail
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