76 THE AMERICAN MUSEUM JOURNAL 
the day and year. I was not fortunate 
enough to get one of these sequences. 
The grinding songs are sung to keep 
time with the grinding. If there is any 
peculiar rhythm in them as a result of 
this, it is brought out by an analysis of 
the music rather than of the words. 
z a 
Photo by Walton 
As an example of a grinding song, we 
have this simple song of good humor: 
There by the river runs a little rabbit 
Why did you not catch him? 
Why did you not kill him? 
We feel just like doing that. 
Bent over like a little old man 
Off he goes with a watermelon; 
Bent over like a little old man 
Off he goes with a muskmelon! 
A love song that has a universal 
appeal is the following one which is a 
favorite with Tewa girls. It is sung by 
two or three who bring their corn to the 
same house so they can grind together. 
That somebody, my own special one, 
Even his shadow and his voice are loved. 
His footfall even! But what can I do? 
That other one, O how I hate his shadow! 
His shirt is fine and white, his hat is gray, 
His leggings and his shoes are beaded bright, 
His neckkerchief is gay and yellow — but 
For all his clothes, his face, his face is black! 
Many songs that are associated with 
individuals were doubtless extemporized 
to fit a special occasion. Many love 
songs have a little story connected with 
them telling the conditions under which 
they were originally sung. As an ex- 
ample of a song associated with an 
individual we take this bit of 
cynical observation which is accredited 
to a man named “'Thamu”’ or “ Dawn” 
who lived in Santa Clara within the 
memory of the oldest people. When he 
found several girls grinding corn and 
singing about their lovers according to 
custom, he would tell them, “This is 
the way you should sing about your 
may 
lovers”’: 
Alas! this man of mine! 
His words were like truth 
When he talked to me. 
His words were like truth, 
But right away he proved 
To be an arrant liar! 
After this he would find safety in flight. 
One example has already been given 
of the homesick songs sung by the young 
people who are away from home. Here 
is another one relating to the Pueblo 
of San Juan: 
In San Juan I wonder how my home is, 
Surrounded by green cottonwoods my home 
is. 
Now I remember all and now I sing! 
Now I remember how I used to live 
And how I used to walk amid my corn 
And through my fields. Alas, what can I do! 
