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 crêpe 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,