Strike! Strike, you dogs! I'll _NOT_ deny my God."
I saw the spears that seemed a-leap to slay,
All quiver earthward at the headman's nod;
And in a daze of dream, I heard him say:
"Go, set him free who serves so well his God!"

The Gramaphone at Fond-Du-Lac
Now Eddie Malone got a swell grammyfone to draw all the trade to his store;
An' sez he: "Come along for a season of song,
which the like ye had niver before."
Then Dogrib, an' Slave, an' Yellow-knife brave, an' Cree in his dinky canoe,
Confluated near, to see an' to hear Ed's grammyfone make its dayboo.
Then Ed turned the crank, an' there on the bank
they squatted like bumps on a log.
For acres around there wasn't a sound, not even the howl of a dog.
When out of the horn, there sudden was born such a marvellous elegant tone;
An' then like a spell on that auddyence fell
the voice of its first grammyfone.
"_BAD MEDICINE!_" cried Old Tom, the One-eyed,
an' made for to jump in the lake;
But no one gave heed to his little stampede,
so he guessed he had made a mistake.
Then Roll-in-the-Mud, a chief of the blood, observed in choice Chippewayan:
"You've brought us canned beef, an' it's now my belief
that this here's a case of '_CANNED MAN'_."

The Land of Beyond
Have ever you heard of the Land of Beyond,
That dreams at the gates of the day?
Alluring it lies at the skirts of the skies,
And ever so far away;
Alluring it calls: O ye the yoke galls,
And ye of the trail overfond,
With saddle and pack, by paddle and track,
Let's go to the Land of Beyond!
Have ever you stood where the silences brood,
And vast the horizons begin,
At the dawn of the day to behold far away
The goal you would strive for and win?
Yet ah! in the night when you gain to the height,

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