Devil, in Hell, we are told, was chained,
of years he there remained;
not complain nor did he groan,
determined to have a Hell of his own,
he could torment the souls of men,
being chained in a sulphur pen.
asked the Lord if he had any land
cooler climate that a poor devil could stand.
Lord said, "Yes, but it's not much use,
called Alaska, and it's cold as the deuce;
old boy, the place is so bare,
think you could make a good Hell up there."
Devil said he couldn't see why,
knew his business and would like to try;
bargain was made and deed was given,
the Devil quickly departed from Heaven.
see the Devil far up in the North,
Alaska to see what it's worth;
the top of McKinley he looked at the truck,
said, "If I got in for nothing, still I'm stuck."
oh! It was fine to be out in the cold,
though the wind blew a gale, the Devil grew bold;
there on the height of the mountain he planned
of Alaska the Home of the Damned,
place from the old-fashioned Hell
each soul burned in an old-fashioned cell.
every means that a wise Devil needed.
the air with millions of gnats,
the Yukon over the flats;
a line of volcanoes near Unimak Pass
the mosquitoes in tundra grass;
six months night, when it's sixty below,
wind and a pelting snow.
months day with a spell now and then,
hot for the Devil - too hot for his men.
wolves and dogs by the pack,
when they yell, send chills down your back;
as you mush o'er the barren expanse
north wind blows big holes in your pants.
of all the pests that the Imp could devise,
Yukon mosquitoes are the Devil's prize.
have the rattlesnake's bite and the scorpion's sting,
measure six inches from wing to wing.
Devil said, when he fashioned these,
one will be worse than a million fleas."
the dew falls low and there's plenty of rain
flowers and berries - just for a bluff,
Devil knew how to peddle his stuff.
how well he knew his game,
Devil next salted his new Hell Claim;
gold nuggets in all the streams,
them 'neath the glacial ice,
Reform City hides its vice;
Dame Rumor spread the news,
the world and its motley crews;
there was gold in heaps and piles,
the colors and all the styles;
displayed a grim sardonic grin,
said, "Now watch all the fools rush in."
fight for gold and steal and slay,
in the end, it's me they'll pay.
A fine Hell this, that the Devil owns,
trails are marked with frozen bones;
wild wind moans o'er bleak plain and hill,
a Hell of a Place he has for his Hell;
now you should know if anyone ask you,
kind of a place is our Alaska.