The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 10, 1907, Page 5

The San Francisco Sunday Cail, The tales of gold d And life was one § Bold rmen’ §ere they who won the West. The Hall of Fyme must hold their clay. | 1t was no sriap to make the map Lopsided out gur golden way. On consecfigled ground we tread; Their life-blogd mingled with the dew. The Na[i('(" Son'is a son-of-a-gun And the son of a vistol, too. V. # Low rakish craft sdiled in the Gate, For once the city’s lid was on. In San Frencisco Bay they rolled. “No liger here to buck!” he cried; The Buccancer we know was here ~ “Oh, curse the luck! the swag I'll chuck ™ Because we find his blooming gold." Then he sailed out to buck the tide. “ of ’ I . i : V. ' . b Seiage i g d A4h, see the gentle cowboy here. Friend was he fo lost immigrants. The & ; yood; He proudly viewed his herilage; Out from Noo York came Fremont's men, W henever travelers lost the roa ) see g oy he T he }.hj:;lz In{:rnuf}:r:ci il;;“u.o Nor cookstove nor cookbook +had” he Pathfinding through the waving wheat; Fremont fared forth to find the lra.dz.Thg rocking broncho was hfs pride. Ah, glndly. .would the cowboy :lm” 65 & :j “:h e‘tu' 1n d -he stood a;nd drained. _On acom diej the tribe wdxed quict- And in their hunt down on the Front He loved to sail the aooked' trail He'd hook his spur clean through lfne fur, :I'he pmn.:e schooner, auh?u‘h he'd soong, ,41-“4 hcu c::’edl n':,! :nc dar;m bit Poor Lo had met his twenly-three. They found old muddy Fremont sireel. And fetch the wgyward back And how he'd yell and sh«‘zl and ride. Pilol the kind they load with beer. as, A S " ' L Phe B Pl Pty vt oot = -7 dikhe o bbbk 1o touos} The Spaniard held a Iorj':;/ sfiwzy. HT:;: scnor;"la 43?11 :,:j heart. ; Wby ke - awois-wbite ra 4 Well hoist. it on' the flagpole, gul;;h Hi ll of fun ights. e’'d give her diam caslanels; . Y. gl And Gh Bt His ~ Hgoi‘;:é:m L);‘:alh:{:l, his dagger sheathed, He'd pitch right in and eam them when) They yanked a bear oul of his lair o s 1 " He made the old guitar work nights. . He’d smoked a million cigarelles: . ~@And made the greal Bear Flag. - A noble brand thal reads “U S