WIFE’S ASHES IN A TIN CAN
Queer Tale of a Crank
Wanted to Scatter Them from Washington Monument.
From the Pittsburg Dispatch.
Gen. John M. Wilson, Chief of Engineers, United States Army, was sitting in his office in the War Department the other day when a person of very dubious aspect appeared in the doorway. It was a man, with clothing tattered and torn, a two weeks’ beard, and carrying an ordinary tomato can in his hand. A tramp, obviously; the tomato can, accepted as the emblem of Weary Willy in the comic papers, seemed to settle it. But the General is accessible to people of all ranks and conditions, and he bade the stranger walk in and tell his business.
“I’m in hard luck,” said the man, sitting down on the edge of a chair. As he did so he placed the tomato can on a corner of the Gen. Wilson’s desk.
The General assented, as much as to say that the confession was no surprise to him.
“I’ve been carrying this here can around for two weeks,” added the stranger, indicating the receptacle with his thumb.
“Indeed,” said the General, raising his eyebrows slightly.
“It contains the remains of my deceased wife,” the man continued, wiping one eye with the frayed tail of his coat. “She was cremated a fortnight back.”
“You don’t say so,” said the General, this time really surprised, and looking doubtfully at the tin can, as if he wished it somewhere else than on his desk.
“Fact, sir,” replied the stranger. “And her last request was that her remains should be disposed of in a genteel manner. I couldn’t afford an urn. You know one can have an urn at the crematory, but it’s awfully expensive. So I brought ‘em away in this can, and I’ve been carrying ‘em around for two weeks for want of knowin’ what to do with ‘em. Now, I’ve decided, and I’ve come to ask for a permit.”
“A permit for what?” asked the General.
“To chuck ‘em from the top of the Washington monument,” said the man, “and scatter ‘em to the four winds of heaven. That would be rather genteel, don’t you think?”
“I suppose it would,” assented the General with a gasp.
“They told me I’d have to come to you for a permit,” explained the stranger.
“No, sir,” responded Gen. Wilson, decidedly. “You can get no such permit here. The Washington Monument is not intended for burial purposes. Good day, sir.” The general said afterward. “Why, there was nothing in the world to prevent the man from scattering a bucketful of ashes from the monument if he wanted to do so. But if I granted a permit for such a thing, cranks from all over the country would be coming here to distribute the remains of their relatives from the top of the marble shaft. It would never do, indeed.”
Wheeling [WV] Register 25 September 1897: p. 6
Chris Woodyard is the author of The Victorian Book of the Dead, The Ghost Wore Black, The Headless Horror, The Face in the Window, and the 7-volume Haunted Ohio series. She is also the chronicler of the adventures of that amiable murderess Mrs Daffodil in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales. The books are available in paperback and for Kindle. Indexes and fact sheets for all of these books may be found by searching hauntedohiobooks.com. Join her on FB at Haunted Ohio by Chris Woodyard or The Victorian Book of the Dead. And visit her newest blog, The Victorian Book of the Dead.
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