From the Rock Island Argus, March 23, 1914.
No matter how his heart was wrung
He kept a smile of cheer;
He never had a spiteful tongue;
His conscience, too, was clear.
He praised whenever praise was earned,
His tones were never sad;
He bravely tried, where’er he turned,
To help men to be glad.
Year in, year out, he did his best
To lessen spite and hate.
With quenchless courage in his breast,
He fought with stubborn Fate.
He labored to increase delight,
Though sorely stricken oft;
Men said he lacked the nerve to fight,
And women called him soft.