ision can look,
For you can bet all true punchers will help out the cook.
Come shake out your rawhide and snake it up fair;
Come break your old broncho to take in his share;
Come from your steers in the long chaparral,
For 'tis all in the drive to the railroad corral.

But the longest of days must reach evening at last,
The hills all climbed, the creeks all past;
The tired herd droops in the yellowing light;
Let them loaf if they will, for the railroad's in sight
So flap up your holster and snap up your belt,
And strap up your saddle whose lap you have felt;
Good-bye to the steers from the long chaparral,
For there's a town that's a trunk by the railroad corral.

THE SONG OF THE "METIS" TRAPPER

BY ROLETTE

Hurrah for the great white way!
Hurrah for the dog and sledge!
As we snow-shoe along,
We give them a song,
With a snap of the whip and an urgent "mush on,"--
Hurrah for the great white way! Hurrah!

Hurrah for the snow and the ice!
As we follow the trail,
We call to the dogs with whistle and song,
And reply to their talk
With only "mush on, mush on"!
Hurrah for the snow and the ice! Hurrah!

Hurrah for the gun and the trap,--
As we follow the lines
By the rays of the mystic light
That flames in the north with banners so bright,
As we list to its swish, swish, swish, through the air all night,
Hurrah for the gun and the trap! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

Hurrah for the fire and cold!
As we lie in the robes all night.
And list to the howl of the wolf;
For we emptied the pot of the tea so hot,
And a king on his throne might envy our lot,--
Hurrah for the fire and cold! Hurrah!

Hurrah for our black-haired girls,
Who brave the storms of the mountain heights
And follow us on the great white way;
For their eyes so bright light the way all right
And guide us to shelter and warmth each night.
Hurrah for our black-haired girls! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

THE CAMP FIRE HAS GONE OUT

Through progress of the railroads our occupation's gone;
So we will put ideas into words, our words into a song.
First comes the cowboy, he is pointed for the west;
Of all the pioneers I claim the cowboys are the best;
You will miss him on the round-up, it's gone, his merry shout,--
The cowboy has left the country and the campfire has gone out.

There is the freighters