And the Mississippi gurgled on; it romped, it waved, it ran, It pushed by silvery beaches, and it curled by the homes of man, While the mocker sat on the whispery branch, it sang and caroled away: “_La Salle! La Salle! O brave La Salle!_ _Too bad! Too bad! Good day!_” ROBERT EDWIN PEARY: DISCOVERER OF THE NORTH POLE. (1856-) _Where the green bergs go careening past,_ _ And the white bears gambol and fight,_ _Where the little auks whimper and whisper a tale_ _Of the Ice King’s palace of white._ _Where the musk-oxen frisk and frolic,_ _Where the walrus fondles his mate,_ _’Tis there that a man, who was built on a plan_ _Of steel, went forth to his fate._ _O’er the glittering hills of the ice-pack,_ _O’er the floe and the treacherous lead,_ _The brown dogs hauled the loaded sledge_ _With courage and quickening speed._ _With Eskimos tried and trusted,_ _With a negro of steadfast soul,_ _He shook out the flag of the U. S. A._ _And placed it on top of the Pole._ ROBERT EDWIN PEARY: DISCOVERER OF THE NORTH POLE. (1856-) IMAGINE the sensation which was caused when there suddenly appeared in the newspapers the following telegram: “April the 6th., 1909. Stars and Stripes nailed to the Pole. PEARY.” People were astonished and looked amazed. Could it be possible that the North Pole had at last been discovered, after hundreds of years of effort upon the part of numerous adventurers, many of whom had never come back to tell the tale? Was it true that, after twenty-three years of effort, Commander Peary had at last reached the most northern point upon the earth’s surface? Yes, it seemed to be the fact. At last the North Pole had been trod upon by the foot of a white man. Instantly the news was scattered from St. John’s, New Brunswick, and from New York, to the four corners of the globe, and a great shout of enthusiastic congratulation went up from every place where civilized men were gathered together, for all the world had been watching the plucky commander of the United States Navy, who, for twenty-three years, had been working upon the problem of how to reach the North Pole. “Hurrah! Hurrah for Peary!” was heard on every side. “He has been victorious where hundreds have failed. Again Hurrah!” Those who disbelieved the first telegram were soon assured by others that the Pole had really been reached, for Mr. Herbert L. Bridgman, Secretary of the Peary Arctic Club, was telegraphed to as follows: “Pole reached. _Roosevelt_ safe. PEARY.” And, still later, the Commander’s devoted wife at South Harpswell, Maine, received the message: “Have made good at last. I have the old Pole. Am well. Love. Will wire again from Chateau. BERT.”