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Show It All Belongs to Morgan. (Sioux City Tribune.) I came to a mill by the river side. A half mile long and nearly as wide,-With wide,-With a forest of stacks and an army ot men. . , Toiling at furnace and shovel and pen. "What a most magnificent plant;" I cried, And a man with a smudge on his face replied. "It's Morgan's. T ontororl a train and rode all day On a regal coach and a right of way Which reached out its arms all over the land In a system too large to understand, "A splendid prooerty this," I cried. And a man with a plate on his hat replied, re-plied, "It's Morgan's." I sailed on a great ship trim and true. From pennon to keel and cabin torew, And the ship was one of a monster fleet; A first-class navy could scarce compete. com-pete. . , , , "What a beautiful craft she is. I cried, And a man with akimbo legs replied, "It's Morgan's." I dwelt in a nation filled with pride. Her people were many, her lands were wide; Her record In war and science and art Proved greatness of muscle and mind and heart. "What a grand old country it Is." I cried. And a man with his chest in the air replied, re-plied, "It's Morgan's." T went to heaven. The jasper walls. Towered high and wide, and the golden halls. Shone bright beyond. But a strange new mark . I Was over the gate, viz: "Private Park, "Why. what is the meaning of this?" I cried. And a saint with a livery on replied, "It's Morgan's." I went to the only place left. "I'll take A chance in the boat on the brimstone lake. Or perhaps I may be allowed to sit On the griddled floor of the bottomless pit." P.ut a leering lout with thorns on his face Cried out. as the forked me off the place, "It's Morgan's." Edmund Vance Cook. |