I suppose there's something inside me that can't tell a fellow to go
I hauled by the heels from a snowdrift at maybe thirty 'below.'...
"But at last, when the snows were going and the blue Spring skies
were pale,
Out after bear in the valley I met a chap on the trail—
A chap coming up from the city, who stopped and told me a tale—
"A tale of a red war raging all over the land and sea,
And when he was through I was laughing, for the joke of it seemed to be
That Hank was a goldarn German—and Hank was rooming with me!
"So off I hiked to the shanty, and never a word I said,