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Service, Robert W. (Robert William), 1874-1958

"Ballads of a Cheechako"


Look me all over from head to foot; how much would you think I was worth?
A dollar? a dime? a nickel? Why, I'M THE WEALTHIEST MAN ON EARTH.
No, don't you think that I'm off my base. You'll sing a different tune
If only you'll let me spin my yarn. Come over to this saloon;
Wet my throat--it's as dry as chalk, and seeing as how it's you,
I'll tell the tale of a Northern trail, and so help me God, it's true.
I'll tell of the howling wilderness and the haggard Arctic heights,
Of a reckless vow that I made, and how I STAKED THE NORTHERN LIGHTS.
Remember the year of the Big Stampede and the trail of Ninety-eight,
When the eyes of the world were turned to the North,
and the hearts of men elate;
Hearts of the old dare-devil breed thrilled at the wondrous strike,
And to every man who could hold a pan came the message, "Up and hike".
Well, I was there with the best of them, and I knew I would not fail.
You wouldn't believe it to see me now; but wait till you've heard my tale.
You've read of the trail of Ninety-eight, but its woe no man may tell;
It was all of a piece and a whole yard wide,
and the name of the brand was "Hell".


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