,
But fortune ther' I missed;
For all I got a-though I sought----
I starved an' thirsted, dug an' fought,
Was d---- plumbago schist!
Ten years of toil, of muck an' spoil; then on th' "Failure list."

Labarge; th' Canyon; I was there;
I clumb th' Glacier mound.
I might a-bin a millionaire----
God! think of it, and see me--WHERE?
A bum on Puget Sound!----
At night my roof th' open sky--my pillow th' cold ground.

Me for th' trail at seventy!
I'm longin' f'r th' track:
I'll try again--no, I'll not fail----
I hear them "Little Voices" wail:
"Come back! come back! come back!"
O, God! how Mem'ry knifes me now an' puts me on th' rack.

Yes, yes--I failed! Yes, yes, a drink!
An' then my pipe I'll fill.
Boy, here's t' you--y'r picter's true
Of them old sinners that I knew
On old Che-cha-ko Hill;
But say, old man, y' overlooked my friend, "Swiftwater Bill!"

DERBY DAY IN THE YUKON

Talk of England's Derby Race; of Kentucky's blue-grass chase;
Epsom Downs an' Frisco "Tanforan" t' boot;
I don't say they ain't done well, but I tell y' even h--ll
Couldn't match th' Yukon racin' malamoot.

How them dogs they love th' Race! Y' kin see it in th' face
Of th' starvin' scut that hangs aroun' th' claim;
F'r he knows, like you an' me, that th' Derby Day'll be
Th' big jag day--th' glad rag play, that brings th' Yukon fame.

It was Fool's Day f'r th' Race; every husky in his place;
Wasky's dogs was runnin' Billy Brown of Nome;
But at th' Starter's line ranged up Jake Berger's Nine,
Ten t' one THEY'D bring th' Derby money home!

Thousands hit th' trail that night; we was out t' see th' sight;
Th' stakes, eleven-thousand-plunks in gold!
Th' thermometer on strike--every bench-claim on th' hike----
An' them leaders b' th' leash y' couldn't hold.

Oh, th' run was cruel hard--th' white frost how it scarred
As they galloped down th' long, unending trail;
The whip cut like th' wind, an' Carey's dog, snow-blind,
Joined his howlin' t' th' screeches of th' gale.

Down where Candle's bonfires glow see th' racin' huskies go,
All keen t' win--McCarthy's purp drops dead----
He's thrown out upon th' track f'r th' lean an' hungry pack
Of grey wolves follerin' th' flyin' sled.

Two-an'-eighty