The Arkansas Traveler

Date: [unknown] [unknown]
Location: Arkansas, United States
Surnames/tags: Arkansas us_history

The Arkansas Traveler, or Arkansas Traveller, is a figure of American folklore and popular culture from the first half of the 19th-century. The character is to have originated with Sandford C. Faulkner.

Lithography from 1870 by Currier and Ives after the painting Washburn

Contents 1 Folklore 2 The Song 3 The Tale 4 Sources

Folklore

According to Faulkner's retelling, he came across the settler's hut and, initially met with a surly response, managed to engage him in conversation by completing the fiddle tune the settler had been playing. This encounter became the basis for the humorous and widely known folklore story of "The Arkansaw Traveler."

The story, as told by Faulkner, depicted a conversation between himself and the settler, showcasing the wit, resourcefulness, and good-natured banter that was characteristic of the people of Arkansas. While Faulkner's role in composing the actual tune is disputed, his frequent retellings of the story and his association with the folklore contributed to its popularity and cultural significance.

"The Arkansaw Traveler" quickly became a cherished part of Arkansas's cultural heritage. The story was depicted in various forms, including a famous painting and lithograph that portrayed the encounter between Faulkner and the settler. The tune itself became widely performed, with Faulkner often playing it alongside his narrative. The story and the accompanying music exemplified the spirited and humorous nature of the Arkansas people, and it became an integral part of the state's folklore.

In recognition of its significance, "The Arkansaw Traveler" was adopted as the state song of Arkansas from 1949 to 1963, further solidifying its place in the cultural identity of the state. The tale continues to be celebrated and shared through various collections of stories about Arkansas, ensuring that Faulkner's legacy as a teller of tall tales and promoter of the state's folklore lives on.

Waller Wright sang a jumbled sort of song, which attracted Faulkner's attention - a song and tune he had heard in various settlements. Faulkner made into the celebrated song known universally as the "The Arkansaw Traveler".

The Arkansas Traveller on his weary way (an advertisement from 1900 for ham)

The Song

Stranger. - How long have you been living here?
Old Man. - D'ye see that mountain there? Well, that was there when I came here. (Plays)
S. - Can I stay here tonight?
O. M. - No! Ye can't stay here. (Plays)
S. - How long will it take me to get to the next tavern?
O. M. - Well, you'll not get thar at all if you stand thar foolin' with me all night. (Plays)
S. - Well, how far do you call it to the next tavern?
O. M. - I reckon it's upward of some distance. (Plays)
S. - I am very dry; do you keep any spirits in your house?
O. M. - Do you think my house is haunted. They say there's plenty down in the graveyard. (Plays)
S. - How do they cross this river ahead?
O. M. - The ducks all swim across. (Plays)
S. - How far is it to the forks of the road?
O. M. - I've been living here nigh on twenty years and no road ain't forked yet. (Plays)
S. - Why don't you cover your house, it's raining?
O. M.. - 'Cause it's raining.
S. - Then why don't you cover it when its not raining?
O. M. - 'Cause it don't leak. (Plays)
S. - Why don't you play the second part of that tune?
O. M. - If you're a better player than I am you can play it yourself. I'll bring the fiddle out to you. I don't want you in here. (Stranger plays the second part of the tune.)
O. M. - Git over the fence and come in and sit down; I didn't know you could play. You can board here if you want to. Kick that dog off that stool an set down and play it over; I want to hear it again. (Stranger plays the second part again.)
O. M. - Our supper is ready now; won't you have some with us?
S. - If you please.
O. M. - What'll you take, tea or coffee?
S. - A cup of tea, if you please.
O. M. - Sall, git the grubbin' hoe and go dig some sassafras, quick! (Old man plays the first part.)
S. - (To the little boy) - Bub, give me a knife and fork, if you please.
Boy. - We hain't got no knives and forks, sir.
S. - Then give me a spoon.
B. - We hain't got no spoons, either.
S. - Well, then, how do you do?
B. - Tolerable, thank you; how do you do, sir?
(The stranger, finding such poor accommodations and thinking, soon left and finally succeeded in finding a tavern with better fare. He has never had the courage to visit Arkansas since.)

The Arkansas Traveller. Designed by one of the natives and dedicated to Col. S. C. Faulkner, 1859

The Tale

Traveler. - Halloo, stranger.
Squatter. - Hello yourself.
T.. - Can I get a stay all night with you?
S. - No, sir, you can't git to-
T. Have you any spirits here?
S. Lots of 'em; Sal saw one last night by that ar ole hollar gum, and it nerely skeered her to death.
T.. - You mistake my meaning; have you any liquor?
S. - Had some yesterday, but Ole Bose he go in and lapped all uv it out'n the pot.
T.. - You don't understand; I don't mean pot liquor. I'm wet and cold and want some whisky. Have you got any?
S. - Oh, yes - I drank the last this morning.
T.. - I'm hungry; haven't had a thing since morning; can't you give me something to eat?
S. - Hain't a durned thing in the house. Not a mouthful uv meat nor a dust uv meal here.
T.. - Well, can't you give my horse something?
S. - Got nothin' to feed him on.
T.. - How far is it to the next house?
S. - Stranger! I don't know; I've never been thar.
T.. - Well, do you know who lives here?
S. - I do.
T.. - As I'm so bold, then, what might your name be?
S. - It might be Dick, and it might be Tom; but it lacks a right smart uv it.
T.. - Sir! will you tell me where the road goes to?
S. - It's never been any whar since I've lived here; it's always thar when I get up in the mornin'.
T.. - Well, how far is it to where it forks?
S. - It don't fork at all, but it splits up like the devil.
T.. - As I'm not likely to get to any other house to-night, can't you let me sleep in yours; and I'll tie my horse to a tree and do without anything to eat or drink.
S. - My house leaks. Thar's only one dry spot in it, and me and Sal sleeps on it. And that thar tree is the ole woman's persimmon; you can't tie to it, 'cause she don't want 'em shuk off. She 'lows to make beer out'n um.
T.. - Why don't you finish covering your house and stop the leaks?
S. - It's been raining all day.
T.. - Well, why don't you do it in dry weather?
S. - It don't leak then.
T.. - As there seems to be nothing alive about your place but children how do you do here anyhow?
S. - Purty well, I thank you, how do you do yourself?
T.. - I mean what do you do for a living here?
S. - Keep tavern and sell whisky.
T.. - Well, I told you I wanted some whisky.
S. - Stranger I bought a bar'l morn' a week ago. You see me and Sal went shares. Arter we got it here, we only had a bit between us, and Sal, she didn't want to use hern fust, nor me mine. YOu see I had a spiggin in one eend, and she in tother. So she take a drink out'n my eend, and pays me the bit for it; then I'd take un out'n hern, and give her the bit. Well, we's gittin' long fust-rate, till Dick, durned skulking skunk, he lourn a hole on the bottom to suck at, and the next time I went to buy a drink, they wurnt none thar.
T.. - I'm sorry your whisky's all gone; but, my friend, why don't you plat the balance of that tune?
S. - It's got no balance to it.
T.. - I mean you don't play the whole of it?
S. - Stranger, can you play the fiddul?
T.. - Yes, a little, sometimes.
S. - You don't look like a fiddlur, but ef you think you can play any more onto that thar thune, you kin just git down and try. (The traveler gets doen and plays the whole of it.)
S. - Stranger, take a half dozen cheers and sot down. Sal, stir yoursel round like a a six-horse tem in a mud hole. Go round in the holler whar I killed that buck this mornin, cut off some of the best pieces, and fotch it and cokk it for me and this gentlemen, directly. Raise up the board under the head of the bed, and git the old black jug I hid from Dick, and give us some whisky; I known thar's sum left yit. Til, drive Ole Bose out'n the bread-tray, then climb up in the loft and git the rag that's got the sugar tied in it, Dick carry the gentleman's hoss round under the shed, give him some fodder and corn; much as he kin eat. Til. - Dad, thay ain't knives enough for to sos the table.
S. - Whar's big butch, little butch, ole case, cob handle, granny's knife, and the one I handled yesterdy? That's enough to sot any gentleman's table, without you've lost um. Durn me, stranger, ef you cna't stay as long as you please, and I'll give you plenty to eat and drink. Will you have coffee for supper?
T.. - Yes, sir.
S. - I'll be hanged if you do, tho', we don't have nothin' that way here, but Grub Yson, and I recon its mighty good with sweetnin'. Play away, stranger, you kin sleep on the dry spot to-night.
T. - (After about two hours fiddling) - My friend, can't you tell me about the road I'm to travel to-morrow?
S. - To-morrow! Stranger, you won't git out'n these diggins for six weeks. But when it gits so you kin start, you see that big sloo over thar? Well, you have to git crost that, then you take the road up the bank, and in about a mile you'll come to a two-acre-and-a-half corn-patch. The corn's mityly in the weeds, but you needn't mind that, just ride on. About a mile and a half or two miles from thar, you'll come to the damdest swamp you ever struck in all your travels; its boggy enouff to mire a saddle blanket. Thar's a fust-rate road about six feet under thar.
T.. - how am I to get at it?
S. - You can't git at it nary time, till the weather stiffens down sum. Well, about a mile beyant, you come to a place whar thar's no roads. You kin take the right hand ef you want to; you'll foller it a mile or so and then you'll find its run out; you'll then have to come back and try the left; when you git about two miles on that you may know you're wrong, fur they ain't any road thar. You'll then think you're mighty lucky ef you can find the way back to my house, whar you kin cum and play on that thune as long as you please.

That famous traveler in the wilds of Arkansas, known as "The Arkansas Traveler," is no myth. He lived in Little Rock, and his name was Colonel "Sandy" Faulkner. He was an aged and respected citizen of Little Rock, and he was commonly known about town for his music and story telling.

Sources

• Newspaper Clipping, The Delta Democrat-Times, Greenville, Mississippi, 6 Nov 1949, Page 8. "Lake Village to Have Monument To Sandy Faulkner, Arkansas Travler." Accessed 9 Jul 2023.
• Newspaper Clipping, Gibson City Courier, Gibson City, Illinois, 13 Sep 1951, Thu. Page 3. "Dunn Tells Story of 'Arkansas Traveler'." Accessed 9 Jul 2023.
• Newspaper Clipping, The Lexington Herald, Lexington, Kentucky, 17 Mar 1929, Sun. Page 23. "Georgetown, The Home of 'Sandy' Faulkner, Who Composed the Song 'The Arkansas Traveler'." Accessed 9 Jul 2023.
• Newspaper Clipping, The Camden News, Camden, Arkansas, 4 Dec 1948, Sat. Page 4. "Arkansas Traveler Story." Accessed 9 Jul 2023.
• Newspaper Clipping, The Atlanta Journal, Atlanta, Georgia, 18 Mar 1891, Wed. Page 8. "The Arkansaw Traveler." Accessed 9 Jul 2023.
• Wikipedia Contributors. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, last edited on 27 May 2023. "Arkansas Traveler (folklore)." Accessed 9 Jul 2023.