2 min read

When Them Taters Are All Dug

A Maine potato harvest ballad collected in Aroostook County from a migrant farm worker who had no money at the end of his time working and bought a ticket home by selling this song to the innkeeper in 1913.

It's got a nice repeated last line... that's where everyone joins in!
You can also call-and-responsify this so that each line is echoed, and everyone sings "When them taters are all dug" together.

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When Them Taters Are All Dug @ NASC Workshop '26
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Lyrics

Way up in Aroostook County
Where in winter falls the snow
Where in the short hot summer months
The big potatoes grow
Farmers cuss and talk about
Their big potato bugs
They smile all over the county
When them taters are all dug

At village stores there's tater talk
About their monstrous size
Now some of these yarns they sound like truth
But a lot of them are lies
They know whiskey to be had
Spring water from a jug
But there'll be an awful racket
When them taters are all dug

When the farmers start in digging
They will stop you on the way
They will smoke and chew tobacco
As they talk about the pay
They say fill up your baskets
Just as much as you can lug
For they're always in a hurry
'Til them taters are all dug

From east to west, from north to south
Them tater pickers came
Some had no cash for railroad fares
But they got there just the same
See how they sweat and grunt and pull
And at the big potatoes tug
For the farmers have no use for them
When them taters are all dug

And sometimes too, a country gal
Would pick up in the field
Some love-struck tater picker
Would cause her heart to yield
And in the evening they'd beguile the time
With a stolen kiss or hug
There's bound to be a wedding
When them taters are all dug

And when them taters are all dug
And the pickers go to town
With dollars in their pockets
Well they'll never get a frown
Some will head on down to the line house
For to fill their little jug
'Tis then we drop clear out of sight
When them taters are all dug

Sources

Collected in Aroostook County, Maine, 1913. A migrant farm worker sold this song to an innkeeper in exchange for a train ticket home.

The melody is mine, I just fitted what sounded like a classic "come all ye" melody to it. Perhaps it is part of another song you all have heard? Let me know!
-BK