God bless our Carrie Nation, Give her courage, strength, and might, To go forth in former battlements arrayed. Till this cursed intemperance, Will be driven from our shore, From every village, hamlet and the glade. O, God raise up a million, Of our Carrie Nation minds, That they may fight for freedom, from the thrall. Let's join our hands with Carrie And do not let us tarry, Oh, let us toil for Jesus one and all. AMERICA'S HISTORIC HATCHET. Ere Yankee Doodle came to town, And routed king and tory, Three words sublime were writ by time To live in song and story; "George Washington"--immortal name There's few or none can match it; His father's favorite cherry tree, And "George's little hatchet." In Boston's harbor next we trace The little hatchet's story; In smashing up the Crown's tea-chests, It won a crown of glory. And every time Wrong shows his head, That weapon "bald doth snatch it, For patriot hands are ever found To wield the "Yankee hatchet." A century and more has passed, With blooms and blizzards blowing O'er Kansas' plains--where corn and grains, 'Round happy homes are growing; Where statutes pure close each "joint" door, Forbidding to unlatch it, There, in the fight, defending Right, We find our "loyal hatchet." The boy who 'could not tell a lie," The flag of freedom planted, He shelled "Corn"--wallis to the "cob" On Yorktown's field undaunted. Since then, our tea is duty free No Briton dare attach it; While the new woman in the case, Now poses with the hatchet. She dares to fight a gorgon fight! A cruel monster hell-born, Whose hungry maw, ignoring law, Mocks misery's tears to scorn. She may not slay the beast, but aye Her blows will badly scratch it; All praise is due the woman true, Who wields the "home-guard" hatchet. When time shall build the marble guild, That marks man's reformation, Its arch of fame shall bear the name Of dauntless Carrie Nation. Her righteous scorn of rum and wrong-- May all creation catch it, And join the "Woman's World Crusade," Armed with "our nation's" hatchet. --Minna Irving, in Leslie's Weekly. Revised and second stanza added by C. Butler Andrews. THE HATCHET CRUSADE. (Dedicated to Mrs. Carry Nation.) Oh, woman, armed with one little hatchet. Fighting for justice and right, And with your brave mother courage Knowing your cause was right, You've done more to hasten God's kingdom, And to crush satan's power o'er men, Than countless numbers of creation's lords, With the power of the ballot thrown in. You've awakened the mothers to action Whose powers have long dormant been, While the minions of satan have strained every nerve To ruin our boys and our men.