Bisbee daily review., 1904-06-14
A GOOD MAN HAS GONE.

Charles Warner is no more. Char ley" Warner was probably one of the best known men in the county of Co chise. certainly in the city of Bisbee. IL was a very newcomer to the camp of the Warren District who did not know the cheery mining foreman who was to be seen upon our streets daily, sometimes with his blue dinner pail going to the shafts which would take him to the tunnels and drifts of the mines in which he was known by ev- cry sturdy miner drilling under his tal- low dip, or pushing the car under the blaze of the electric light.
 The news columns tell fully how poor old Charlie went down to his ac customed duty yesterday, only to be returned to the light and surface, wounded and bruised, the cheerful light of his genial soul crushed from him by the ruthless hand of death. Carried unconscious to the hospital never to return to consciousness, until the cruel reaper had in mercy tender ly clothed his suffering and pain in the 1 calm and repose of eternal sleep.
 After years of toll in the mines of this and other camps. and knowing l full well the dangers always attending | the miner who goes underground. and | after faithfully fulfilling the duties imposed upon him as a miner, and l rising by and through his own efforts | 10 one of the most responsible posi- | tions within the gift of his employ | CTS, by whom he was esteemed highly. | Nr. Warner himself fell under the blight of death. and watchful as he | had ever been. his God willed that his | time had come. and under the most distressing circumstances his soul had ! passed into the presence of it's Crea- tor
 ''To live in hearts We leave behind
 Is not to die.''
 From childhood on through each | succeeding period, among the many | with whom we are associated, there | are always those 10 whom we are pc l culiarly attracted, with whom it is an especial pleasure to be. who seem in some way to belong to us. and We to them. These we hold as friends.
 In the morning of that day which We call life, the Angel of Death. with 1 noiseless footsteps, steals among a l merry group of children and bears away the one we most love. while We stand by wondering, afraid and lone ly. Without our little friend school is a dreary, cheerless place; We fail in lessons that we knew. because cur thoughts are far away. Nor have we heart for play; shadow falls on ev- cry game. and robs it of it's sport, and every tree and field and brook re- minds us of our loneliness Bu. sorrow does not long weigh down the buoyant. elastic spirit of a child; and so after awhile some one else slips into the vacant place, and life is glad again.
 Years pass. It is the Doontime of life's day. Again the unwelcome an gel comes and bears beyond our touch and ken our best beloved friend. The pain is keen. the wound deep. We are restless, and listlessly we take up our round of duties: the charm and zest has fled. To us the sky seems ever gray, and the glad sunshine to have gone forever. Yet this is pc riod of elasticity, of ceaseless, virile activity, period of many interests. So here, too. after time, there is a re- bound Do We forget? An, no,. This friendship becomes a sweet treasured memory, whose impress we bear through all the years of time.
 Time hurries on. We reach the af- ternoon of life. and feel ourselves. though all reluctantly, nearing the twi- light. We are more slow than once we were to take on new friendships; but time and the experience of life have given depth and strength to those already formed Nor do we here es- cape the visit of the angel. Indeed he comes more frequently than in the years gone by, and bears away those whom we most cherish; but into the place of the friend whom death takes from us now, no new one enters. We are more lonely than ve were in child