:on u!
THE OLD LROSLECTOR
CHARLEY L. RAHGE
!
i
As I sit in my cabin all covered with snow
! It's cold outside—thirty-two below,
And I am all alone with no one to cheer
For my nearest neighbor is two miles
from here.
The sky is sparkling with crystal light
; It’s the Arctic wonder of the northern
I lights:
Harkl Do I hear the sound of some dog team j
Or is it a fancy or yet a dream'i
I opened the door and from down the trail
Came the well known sound, the malamute wail
And as they drew up beside my door
He handed me letters, some three or four.
And as I glanced at the writing on,
I could plainly see that one was from
An old time friend and pal of me
And his name was Frederick James Gushee.
So I will answer now as best I can
And tell him all about this northern land; j
And the last frontier of the old Sourdough.j
For they are the ones that blazed the way ;
| That othere have mushed and pulled their
sleighs;
So that's why I am here in this lonely dell
For to be in the city—it's perfect hell,
j I came out west in the early years
And have always followed the frontiers
I Until civilization gets too strong
Then I hitch my dogs and mush on and on.
O'er rivers and valleys and mountain stream
Until I came to the one that suit my dreams
In search of more of the hidden stores
For after Alaska there is no more.
V
dw;
ar old Alaska is a Wonderful lor™
I have prospected her coast from the Arctic
to uetchikan,
And all her rivers from stem to stern,
And what gold I've got--well have I earned.
I have slept outside when 'twos seventy belo^
In my tarp and robe on top of the snow
With no one near with a word of cheer
But my old faithful malamute dog so dear.
They tell me, Fred, that I am getting old, j
And will have to stop stampeding for gold,
That time will come we all know well
And I am elected to the place called hell.
For the good book says within its folds
That the streets of heaven are paved with
gold,
Xt that's"the -case it's well I know—
It would be no place for an old Sourdough. j
The time will come and will soon be here
..hen there'll be no more of this frontier;
And the old Sourdoughs will be forgot
For they’ll all be planted in their little lpt.
Of two by six in some lonely dell
And they will be prospecting down in hell; j
1 But if prospecting is poor and water scarce
; They’ll be mushing for another place.
| There's one thing more I wish to say—
I We will all miss our dogs and Yukon sleigh; j
But I'm quite sure that the devil won’t kick'
If we fetch along our own shovels and picks.j
The chief objection to turning the other
cheek is that it leaves your chin wide open.;
The Supreme Court of the United States gives!
a man the right to open his wife’s letters,
but it doesn't give him the courage;__
l~UT
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