<h2>OMAR IN THE KLONDYKE</h2>
<h3>BY HOWARD V. SUTHERLAND</h3>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"This Omar seems a decent chap," said Flapjack Dick one night,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">When he had read my copy through and then blown out the light.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">"I ain't much stuck on poetry, because I runs to news,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But I appreciates a man that loves his glass of booze.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"And Omar here likes a good red wine, although he's pretty mum;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">On liquors, which is better yet, like whisky, gin, or rum;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Perhaps his missus won't allow him things like that to touch,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And he doesn't like to own it. Well, I don't blame Omar much.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"Then I likes a man what's partial to the ladies, young or old,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And Omar seems to seek 'em much as me and you seek gold;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I only hope for his sake that his wife don't learn his game<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Or she'll put a chain on Omar, and that would be a shame.</span><span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_1388" id="Page_1388"></SPAN></span><br/></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"His language is some florid, but I guess it is the style<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of them writer chaps that studies and burns the midnight ile;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">He tells us he's no chicken; so I guess he knows what's best,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And can hold his own with Shakespeare, Waukeen Miller, and the rest.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"But I hope he ain't a thinkin' of a trip to this yere camp,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">For our dancin' girls is ancient, and our liquor's somewhat damp<br/></span>
<span class="i0">By doctorin' with water, and we ain't got wine at all,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Though I had a drop of porter—but that was back last fall.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"And he mightn't like our manners, and he mightn't like the smell<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Which is half the charm of Dawson; and he mightn't live to tell<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Of the acres of wild roses that grows on every street;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And he mightn't like the winter, or he mightn't like the heat.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">"So I guess it's best for Omar for to stay right where he is,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And gallivant with Tottie, or with Flossie, or with Liz;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And fill himself with claret, and, although it ain't like beer,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I wish he'd send a bottle—just one bottle—to us here."<br/></span>
<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_1389" id="Page_1389"></SPAN></span></div>
</div>
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