The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1892-08-26
HE ASKS FOR A PASS.
Major Stanton Sends a Queer Rhyme to
General EchOls.

Major Stanton Sends a Queer Rhyme to
General EchOls.
Major Henry T. Stanton, author of
The Moneyless Man" and other clever
poems, recently wrote an extremely
bright and funny letter to Gen. John
Echols, President of the Newport News
and Mississippi Valley Railway Com
pany, in making application for pass.
The novel communication is in rhyme.
Gen. Echols, whose name, by the way,
adorns the resolutions of secession
adopted by the State of Virginia, and
who was prominent figure in the Con-
federate military forces throughout the
war, told Recorder reporter of the incl
dent while the two were thrown together
in travelling last week.
major Stanton" said he, Twas on my
staff at the close of the war, and have
always been very fond of him. Last
spring he came to my Office and asked
me for an annual pass over my road.
said, in fun, to him: When you go
back to Frankfort write me note, set
ting forth your wishes Very soon 1
received written application for the
annual pass, in reply to which wrote
him note, telling him that l would re-
fer his application to the lawyers of the
company, to advise me whether it would
be violation of the interstate commerce
law for me to issue the pass as requested.
1t was in reply to that letter that he
wrote me this letter." and the General
produced the following, which he
allowed the Recorder reporter to copy:
FRANKFORT, KY, March Goth, 1892.
Ny Dear General: Your letter is here,
and very much fear that it's the very
last word that ever will hear of that
annual pass. Alack, and alas! that the
souls of the great and rich should be
SIGH. Now, if L were mogul, and if you
were the tramp, and the journey was
long and the weather was damp, don't
you know would say, in Christian
like-way, Poor fellow, jump on, for
there's nothing to pay" Do you think
l would pause to examine clause of the
corporate laws and call in my shysters to
make 'alkee-talk'' in search of a statute
to prove you should walk? Nay, nay,
my dear friend, for you know very well
that L d grab at the string and tinkle the
bell, and I'd scream and I'd yell to PUT
on the bIake'' for humanity's sake, and
when had brought the old thing to a
stand, I'd stretch o1t my hand and I'd
help yol aboard, and I'd see you from
COluplCOOll u oOcNO
you on elegant cushions inside; I'd give
you a drink and I'd say you shall ride on
plain, and through valley, by field and by
river, now on and henceforth and for
eyer and ever.
They say that charter on iron to roll
is a thing without sentiment, sorrow or
soul; that it goes right ahead, by the
living and the dead, in merciless way
for 'psy," only 'pay." 1t has a
corporate life and can move, but it never
can love.
Its pulses are quick, or are slow, but
PASSIONS thing that it never can know
Now you are the head and front of a
charter-a human turned into ''stop
her and start her'-a railroad machine
and a possible martyr; but you once
were endowed with heart and a soul,
above that poor Office of gathering toll.
You could feel for tramp when he
traveed alone, and when he said
''bread" you could never say stone"
But low you have changed; you are
cindG and coal, with nothing but iron
goneinto your soul.
Lite old Polyphemus, who wanted to
eat ihe whole of the crew of Ulysses
fleet you are "fond of the brave" and
whn you are hungry, it's easy to see
yoid willingly make small luncheon
Of Te, that is you'd take the last ''red"
IN y wallet Cor one happy moment to
tickle your gullet
Now let me observe that still have
thu nerve, and the muscle to walk, and
TIN brain and the tongue, and the power
to talk, and while l have these l shall
n& be clam, but I'll walk on your ties
ad won't care -.
Your legal advisers, those gabbers and
lisers, those fellows you hire to do your
esire and all the rough work to be done
or your line, no doubt will decline to let
you be decent and issue the pass, and
Then in glass of old Monarch or Crow
they'll drink to the health of the man
that can't go, unless he goes slow.
Well, let them decide that the walker
shan't ride, for its nothing to me in the
end, since know it is best to go slow.
Some day, on my way, l may halt at
the Gait and pay my respects to my
friend, Mistress E., for know it's not
she who gives nothing but sass when 1
ask for pass. Pray tell her that bottle
of Monarch is here and I'll drink it to
her. I'll go for some sugar and mint and
some ice, and I'll fix up toddy ex-
ceedingly NICE and I'll drink every drop
to her health and wish her the widow of
beauty and wealth that soon she should
be, for, you see, it's natural law that
the man who don't give was never in
tended to live.
shall try to 60 over the ties and the
grass without any pass, but one of these
days, when together we wait for soulful
st. Peter to open the gate, you'll find
your appeal is little too thin, and you'll
stay outside whilst will walk in. You
will see how your chances for life were
let slip when you haven't pass for even
that trip.
Good by, my dear friend, all things
have an end. Thus endeth, alas, all
hope for that pass.
Distressfully youry,
HENRY T. STANTON.