When Kansas joints are open wide To ruin men on every side, What power can stem their lawless tide? A woman. When many mother's hearts have bled And floods of sorrow's tears are shed, Who strikes the serpent on the head? A woman. When boys are ruined every day And older ones are led astray, Who boldly strikes and wins the fray? A. woman. When drunkenness broods o'er the home, Forbidding pleasure there to come, Whose hatchet spills the jointist's rum? A woman. When rum's slain victims fall around, And vice and poverty abound, Who cuts this up as to the ground? A woman. When those who should enforce the law Are useless as are men of straw, What force can make saloons withdraw? A woman. When public sentiment runs low, And no one dares to make them go, Whose hatchet lays their fixtures low? A woman. Who sways this mighty rising tide That daily grows more deep and wide, Until no rum shall it outride? A woman. Who then can raise her fearless band And say 'twas "Home Defender's" band Who drove this monster from the land! A woman. --DR. T. J. MERRYMAN. THAT LITTLE HATCHET. The world reveres brave Joan of Arc, Whose faith inspired her fellowman To crush invading columns dark. So, modern woman's firmer will To conquer crime's unholy clan, Crowns her man's moral leader still. A century was fading fast, When o'er its closing decade passed A matron's figure, chaste, yet bold, Who held within her girdle's fold A bran' new hatchet. The jointists smiled within their bars, 'Mid bottles, mirrors and cigars-- The woman passed behind each screen, And soon ocurred a "literal" scene-- Rum, ruin, racket! At first she "moral suasion" tried, But lawless men mere "talk" deride:-- 'Twas then she seized her household ax And for enforcing law by acts, Found nought to match it. The work thus wrought with zeal discreet, Has saved that town from rum complete; Proving that woman's moral force Like man's, is held, as last resource, By sword or hatchet. And following up that dauntless raid, The nation welcomes her crusade; All o'er the land, pure women charmed, Are eager forming, each one armed With glittering hatchets. Talk of "defenders of the nation!" Woman's slight arm sends consternation 'Mong its worst foes, on social fields, Worse than the "Mauser," when she wields The "smashing" hatchet. Mahommed sought by arts refined, To raise his standard o'er mankind; But found success for aye denied, Until at length he boldly tried The battle-hatchet.