A Woman, A Dog, And A Walnut Tree

This Land is the orphan kiddie

  Of the group with their stars in the Flag,

And it's looked on Outside as an alien,

  Where its treatment makes honest men gag.

It's treated the same as the harlot

  Who barters her body for pelf

And carries it home to her master

  And is told to look after herself.

Of course we're an orphan, adopted

  When cast off by the great Russian Bear

And our lot's been the lot of an orphan

  And we've had a "stage orphan's" care.

Our coal land was grabbed by our Uncle,

  Our copper and fur by the Jews,

While another gang took all our salmon

  And corrupted our natives with booze.

Sam gave us an Army Commission

  And told it to build us a Trail,

But all that Sam gave was permission--

  He didn't come thru with the kale.

Now a trail in Alaska costs money

  And when Dick tries to get a bill thru

Some jackass from Maine reads the figures

  And "moves the amount cut in two."

Our Uncle Sam owns all the cables,

  And the prices he gets are a sin,

It costs more for a word to Seattle

  Than it does from Salt Lake to Berlin.

Our coast line is rugged and broken,

  A menace to each ship that sails,

But Sam has no money for coast lights,

  They get the same treatment as trails.

And Alaska is some husky orphan,

  We can reach from the Gulf to B.C.,

We could stand with one foot in Kansas

  While the other was washed by the sea.

We're allowed only one voice in Congress,

  And that one bereft of a vote,

And has to get some one's permission

  Ere he loose a protest from his throat.

Sam gave us a group legislative,

  But barred them the making of laws,

They could only memorialize Congress

  And give it the reasons and cause.

The cry of the world is for Home Rule

  Yet imported fools crowd our bench,

And some of their mining decisions

  Send up to high Heaven their stench.

Sam made us quit gambling, that's all right,

  But one thing that nobody knows

Is why he allowed a bone head from Georgia

  Hang the crepe on our own picture shows.

We're all hedged about with restrictions

  And, Sam, won't you in us confide

Why some of your damphool ideas

  Are not tried out on some one outside?

This Land's not the land of the weakling

  And the men up here know what we need,

And we're sick of your bunch from the Outside

  Who's only incentive is greed.

We've stood for Pinchot's conservation

  And we've stood for your carpet-bag horde

Who have grabbed off the jobs in Alaska

  As a sort of political reward.

But, Sam, take a tip from a Roughneck,

  Go slow now and don't crowd your hand

Or some day you may find that the orphan

  Has quit creeping and learned how to stand.

Don't make us the goat for the theories

  Advanced by some government cog,

And don't use this land as a station

  For trying things out on the dog.

We gaze o'er the line of the Yukon

  As we're watching our neighbors at play

And we wonder why Our Uncle Sammy

  Don't treat his Alaskans that way.

We look at their broad graded highways

  And then at our own half blazed trails

And, Sam, it comes damned nigh to envy

  When we think of their thrice a week mails.

They don't know the word conservation,

  Their resources, all theirs to use,

And when they ask their Uncle to help them

  Their Uncle don't often refuse.

Their Uncle has helped them develop,

  Furnished work there for men who were broke,

And, Sam, when it comes to Coast Lights

  They make ours look like a joke.

But in spite of it all, Sam, we love you,

  We love every thread in the Flag,

We love every stream in Alaska,

  We love every cliff, every crag.

We're not like the Woman or Dog, Sam,

  And we're not like the Walnut Tree

Cause we want to be loved in return, Sam,

  And, Sam, you are blind, or you'd see.