The Lady—that was known as Lou.
When out of the night which was fifty below
And into the din and the glare
There stumbled a miner, fresh from the creeks,
Dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with one foot in the grave
And scarcely the strength of a louse,
As he tilted a poke of dust on the bar
And called for the drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger’s face,