P a s s i n g T h r o u g h
by John P. Wade.
ELLO, Central! give me Heaven! (This club of ours, I trow,
Is near enough to ‘Heaven’ for a mortal here below.)
Just tell me, is the President all ready for his cue
To start the talent flowing—while I am passing through?
“I just reached town this morning and now I’m outward bound;
I’m waiting at the grating like a ‘purp’ that’s in the pound.