The old pioneers who conquered the great wilderness of the West, are one by one dropping into that "dreamless sleep" that will forever kiss their eyelids down, while we enjoy the fruits of their hardships. Thousands of noble men have fallen and "no friend taken note of their departure." This should not be, all should strive to make those who are in the evening of life as happy and comfortable as possible. The great dread of every ambitious, noble, great-souled man is, that when he dies the world will forget he ever lived. The very thoughts of this forgetfulness causes him to cling to life, and work with never ending energy, that their names may be honorably mentioned by generations that are yet unborn.
(The writer of this is unknown to me. It was taken from an article in the "Mountain Echo" (Marion Co., Arkansas) 12 April 1889, regarding Daniel F McElyea.
I thought it was appropriate)