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Show THE REAL THING. You and we missed a great deal in life by not knowing Uncle Oliver, concerning whom a man high up in the newspaper business writes as follows fol-lows in a private letter: "I have Jast been handed a telegram hat tells me of the death of my Uncle Oliver, who at 88 has finished his ork and passed on. In every possible :(. ray his life was complete. He wa i good husband, father neighbor and i just man His sterling qualities in-duded in-duded qult demeanor unassuming ways, respect for law and order, and determination that, in all things, right must prevail "To me he was far more than what I have written. He was Romance. He was what I wanted to be when I was a lad. i "His home to me was a bit of fairy land, and yet it was an ordinary country coun-try cottage with "Welcome" written all over It In my early daya I paid I yearly vialt to that old homo and j learned to admire and to love, as men love, this man who was so ruggedly honest." j The letter continues: "I can see him l now, Just beforo bedtimo, with a litUo i j note book, setting down his memo- j inndum of daily events, just as he had done for more than 60 years. Many ! years ago I took the book down from its place by the clock And read-Sold read-Sold vinegar 15 cents Sold peaches $1 25. Paid for horseshoeing $2 85. Sister Ferule's boy here for a visit. Wind southeast and fair a fine day i "And so memories come to me and ! ray eyes are moist because of (he days that have been and because of the passing of a fine man whose life was all order and unspotted by excesses of any kind "I could not tell you what his religion reli-gion was, other than that it was sol idly founded on 'whatsoever you would that men should do unto you, do you also unto them,' as applied and worked out by a human who wa ev- rry inch a gentleman "The last time I saw him he stood In the driveway east of his house I The fragrance of ripening apples was in the air The flowers along the ; front walk were gay with color, and I Ihe smile of Uncle Oliver, despite his j 87 years, was never more cordial and I- kinrilv " I may not be here when you come next year,' he said, 'but I'm going to Btay as long as I can 1 Then he added, just as he had for vears and years. 'You are alavs welcome; come when ou can." I like to think that Somewhere.1 'from that land whore mankind find4 I refuge after life's work Is done, a j Mighty Hand beckoned, and a voice 'that was all harmony said 'You, too. are always welcome. Come when you I can.' " It was men like Uncle Oliver who built America. There are not so man of them as there used to be. and may- be that Is the chief fhlnf that Is wrong ; with our country a lack of men like j ITncle Oliver, who ring as true and clear as a gold coin. rtft |