The Washington herald., 1907-01-20
Entertains Eighty Guests in a Ban.
quet of Farewell.
Host of Many Newspaper Men and
Statesmen-His Pal, Jack CFayv-
ford, Recites a Poem.

eel, Grosvenor, and Watson, Commi
sioHer West. Sergeant-at-arms Ransdel
Gov. Murphy. Of Colorado: c. c. Glove
T. A Wickersham. Samuel Blythe. L. !
Coolidge, S. W Busbey. John Mile
Ed Snyder, F. A. G. Handy, p. V. /
GTaw, Frank Richardson, J. II. Kaise
a. MOsher. H. MorseII, John Nolan. Y
f. Curtis, y. o. Messenger, RUDOLF
Kaufman, II. c. Clarke, George R0uze
J. II. Small. James Young. Z. g. Wake
J. Harry Cunningham, Maurice Low
Messrs. Bennett. Williams, and Kiene.
The dinner was given as a farewe
dinner before Mr.. Walsh's departure (,
Europe, whence he sails next Saturday.
A feature Of the dinner was the pre-
ence there Of Capt. Jack Crawford, know
as the poet scout" an old-time fTier
OF Mr.. Waish's in the days when bot
together were seeking their fortune
After the dinner Mr. Crawford. dresss
in his scouts costume, recited a nun
Der Of original poems. one OF them wri
ten expressly for the dinner and directe
to his host. Il was as follows:
Dear cmrade nv soul is busted,
This Big broucho soul Of mine,
With IT'S sunny Fl1T
Ard Its afterfow
OF love and laughter and rhyme,
OF love f5r all that Is beautiful
The good and the brave and true-
There was no disguise
IN your honest eyes
When I last shook hands with you.
Together again az the camp fire
We sat in its muddy glow.
And my hear vent out
ON a trembling scout
To the days Of long ago.
To the days q storms and sunshine,
OF stories you've never told.
OF desperate fights
OF slesrless nights,
And death on the trail Of gold.
And ] want TO tell you. Thomas
That the vein l struck ont there
On the DeadUood hin
Is yielding still
And Is spreading everywhere.
And ms heart was foil Of gadness
When ] struck your tran. old boy,
For I knew that day
That my souls assay
Would bring yea q ray Of joy.
needed the thons and crosses
For the work that was mine 70 do
You needed the sold
That you might unfold
The soul that was born in you;
And So let US shake as brothers.
Though don't know which is which
You're a prince, cid pard.
I'm humble bard
But I'm rich; God knows I'm rich.
And I wouldn't trade my riches
For the riches an Fortunes trre
For I want % live
And I want % give
What the good Lord gave To me
As free the signing night-wiuds
That sounded taps in the glen
When we vent % rest
On old Natures breast
The bed Of the bravest men
All, those were the brave DAYS. comrade,
That tried the brayest hearts,
When the yen q the red
Through the air Oft sped
As keen as his feathered dartsi
When the breczes whispered Danger
Almost with their every breath.
But our brave band then
Was composed Of men
Who laughed in the face Of death!
Then we'd roll in our trail-stained blankets
In the camp-fre's Pickering light.
The roof That spread
Der our humble bed
Begemmed with the stars Of night
And our rifles were laid beside rs,
For we never knew. you know,
When would come the cry
We must do OF die
In the battle with savage foe.
Do YOU ever think. old fellow.
A. You hobnob with men Of fame.
Of the days Of old
When the dream # gold
Kept the fires Ct the heart afsmeY
OF the days when the best men roughod it,
Their possessions strapped to the back
OF the trials We knew
In the days when you
Were Ton and I CAPTAIN jack"
But time in It's fight brings charges;
You've realized wen your dream
The wealth You sought,
And for which you fought
Came to you in golden stream.
And i have won wealth-iess golden
But priced just the ssme-to hear
The praise that is sung
BY many tongue
From souls have dlled with cheer.
The hearty acclaim Of thousands
As my jubilant soul yibrates,
Framing gladscme words
As the songs Of birds
Prom the East TO the Western States:
Tho songs that strike at the heart strings
Till they ring with the thTiH Of JOY:
I'm blcst every hour
With this GOd-sent power
Say, am ! not rich. old boy?
And this is the song Of the singer
That's sent 20 your listening ear
Each fills the place
On the old earth's face
God meant when He placed Us here,
And ] hope when our work is ended
We may look unregTetfully back
Ger The trail We trod
And viii hear from God
A welcome for Tom and Jack.
Capt. Jack Crawford