“The various folk tales of negro, Indian, and insipid Scotch-Irish kind, abound in the Appalachian refuges, and, concerned with patrimony in one form or another—this being the nature of the colored mind, to dwell upon its miscegenist character—provide the diligent Eugenicist with an indispensable tool for the diagnosis of the inferior and tragically troubled lineages...”

“…it is further concluded that the character of oral folk traditions in the CSA maintains a higher morality among all classes and races compared to the many woeful examples of degeneration and perversion among the Yankee population. It is, in conclusion, this author’s determined opinion, that the CSA therefore owes its relative levels of domestic peace and serenity to the barring of televisions and the close regulation of the movie house and radio industries.

-Doctor Harlin Knowles, Folk Traces and Miscegeny, CSA Eugenics Association, Official Report #241, 1978

As related to P.J. “Cumin’ At Ya” Slax in the locker room of the Iron City Arena, on Saturday October, 28, 2013 by “Whiff” Ben-Samson Gleason.

“The narrator’s introduction should be accompanied by a long drawl from every instrument—with the effect of a sigh being the aim.

“The asking refrain is best told to the base fiddle, though a Jew’s harp or harmonica will do.

“The voice of Chick Chaw Saul, if deep, should be unaccompanied, but if weak should receive the base fiddler’s accent note in the form of a plucked and muted chord.

“The answering refrain is best told to the fiddle, though a harmonica might pass—but barely.

“The chorus should be shouted to the entire accompaniment, in addition to the banjo rather than a guitar—but if you must, acoustic please.

“The closing admonishment shall be underscored by the entire arrangement, aiming for the effect of a rising groan, and ending in a fading cacophony, with the effect of increasing distance being the aim.”

“Eyes of Blue!”

Said the washer girl to Chick Chaw Saul

“Where boy, did you gets you eyes of blue?”

.....

“Oh me oh My,

Why Maw

Does my eyes peep like the sky?”

.....

“Aks who?”

Says Chick Chaw Maw

“Up crik to the woodpile with you!”

.....

“What in heck is you?”

Said the squirrel on the trail to Chick Chaw Fall

Said Chick Chaw Saul to the rascally tree-rat —“Shew!”

.....

“Why can’t Maw tell me true?”

Mused he, on the trail to Chick Chaw Fall

“Who is my daddy—who?”

.....

“Eyes of Blue!”

Came the crow’s caw

“Two peepers for my witch’s stew.”

.....

“Why look at you.”

Said the woodchuck beneath Chick Chaw Fall

“See how God’s good sun plays on your coppery hue.”

.....

“Could it be Captain McCoy?

Mused Saul, in the mist beneath Chick Chaw Fall

“Might I be Captain McCoy’s boy?”

.....

“I’ll have them eyes of blue!”

Screamed Mistress McCoy, as she rose grey-streaked and bitter—and with scissors—from the pool below Chick Chaw Fall

From above came the caterwaul, “Up here, you!”

.....

“Boy with eyes of blue,”

Said the creeping cat above Chick Chaw Fall

“Climb the mountain if you would know it true.”

.....

“I’ll find my daddy, I will!”

Huffed he, as he trudged beyond Chick Chaw Fall,

“My, what is that—that call so shrill?”

.....

“Boy of coppery hue,”

Screamed a hawk—wearing the grey-red of the CSA Marine—“In this jacket ye shall fall.

Under some distant sky, a gravesman, chisel in hand, will ask, ‘Trooper who’?”

.....

“Why hurry so, Eyes of Blue?”

Said the witch beneath her shawl,

tending her cauldron of spirit brew.

.....

“I ‘m running from the Devil true?”

Gasped he, “In the guise of the Law!”

“On the fly, I’ll have a cup of brew.”

.....

“Eyes of Blue!”

Bayed the bloodhounds driving him into the Devil’s maw,

“With our snouts to the trail you are through!”

.....

“Why run, Eyes of Blue?”

Said the vulture, hungrily—coveting eyes of Saul!

“Why not just give that’s due?”

.....

“I'm running from the Devil—and you!”

Snapped the boy, now grown tall,

“Off with you buzzard—shew!”

.....

“Not to worry bird—you’ll get your chew,”

Said the wicked fox-jack, behind his lumber saw,

“Ole Most got there first, collect will he, the Devil’s due.”

.....

“What boy, there’s still run in you?”

Spoke the Mountaintop Rider, Yankee ghosts trailing from his red spurs like a funeral pall,

“Why shan’t I collect what’s due.”

.....

“To blazes with you!”

Shouted defiant Saul,

“I shall win through!”

.....

“Fight for me Eyes of Blue,”

Commanded the Mountaintop Rider, standing his stirrups Devil tall,

“The only way is down, so we might as well keep up the scare—off to the murder pen with you!”

.....

"According to ole Whiff, to tell this woeful rhyme was the only thing that a body could do at lights out to set Hurt's heart to rest and his soul to ease."

—P.J. Slax, from an interview on No-Holds-Barred Radio's Halloween Show, Saturday, October, 31, 2015