Red-Jacket

Where it's eighty below zero, there you'll find the Northland hero, Red-Jacket; bully Boy he is--sure thing he fills the bill! In that trackless waste of snow, where the Northern Lights hang low, He is doing deeds of daring that would make your pulses thrill:--

AN' WE'LL DRINK T' YOU, RED-JACKET; THE EQUATOR OF YOUR VEST BUNCHES ALL THE PRIDE AN' GLORY OF TH' WILD AN' WOOLLY WEST!

Red-Jacket does no askin', but he's ready for th' taskin' When they sling him out his orders, with a hunk o' pemmican; An' he'll travel day an' night after Red-man or bad white, An' he'll go through hell-an'-blazes, BUT HE'LL NEVER MISS HIS MAN!

HE LAUGHS AT DEATH AN' DANGER, FOR TH' CHIN-STRAP ON HIS JAW IS TH' LINK THAT BINDS CREATION:-- BRITISH FAIR-PLAY, AN' TH'--LAW!

The spur hitched to his heel--at his hip th' gleam of steel,-- With his belly-band strapped tighter his hunger to forget, He may drop upon th' track BUT YOU BET HE WON'T TURN BACK-- For it's duty, Duty, DUTY! That's Red-Jacket's am-u-let!

AN' IT'S "HI! YOU SKULKIN' HUSKY"! O'ER TH' WINTRY, WIND-SWEPT GROUND, THE DOG HIS LONE COMPANION-- AND THE SILENCE THAT IS SOUND!

Oh, the Arctic wilds are weary, and the Arctic nights are dreary; And Red-Jacket sometimes wonders why he's livin' th' wild life? Then he eyes th' British Flag; says: "GOD BLESS YOU, YOU OLD RAG! It's through courtin' YOU I've neither child nor wife"!

THEN A SHAMED AN' SILENT TEAR FALLS UPON THE ARCTIC SNOWS; AN' THE ANGUISH OF HIS HEART, GOD--AN' RED-JACKET, KNOWS!

Now, you folks, don't get hard thinkin' when Red-Jacket starts a-drinkin', An' he busts th' Ten Commandments into five-an'-twenty bits; When he hears th' bugles sound, ain't he fu'st upon th' ground? An' don't his "powders" cure 'em of the'r hell-damnation fits?

SO WE'LL DRINK T' YOU, RED-JACKET! GOD'S BLESSIN' ON Y'R HEAD; YOU'RE TH' BRITISH CON-STI-TOO-SHUN BOUND IN YELLA' STRIPES, AN' RED!