|
|
|
A Noble Life Ended
When my telegraph instrument on the morning of July 6th clicked the sad news of George Arnett's
death, my heart stood still at the unexpected tidings, and I could not
believe it true; so I flashed back over the wires a message asking if
it were so. Ere long came the reply, "True, and sad that it is
true." And then I sat in silence, and the tablets of my memory
were turned back during the many years I had known this most lovable of
men. I said to myself, "I will sometime pay an humble tribute to
his blessed memory."
Mr. Arnett was summoned from his home in Coke county to the bedside of his brother John who was lying dangerously ill at "little Dick" Arnett's
ranch near Colorado, with a broken leg. He left home in full
enjoyment of splendid health, but was taken with appendicitis on
Saturday eve, June 30, and died Wednesday afternoon, July 5, at 4:30
o'clock. Everything possible was done to save his life. A
special train from Ft. Worth carrying a celebrated surgeon sped over
the broad prairie with the swiftness of the winds, but when he arrived
he told the family an operation could not save him, so it was not
performed. His suffering is said to have been intense, yet he was
courageous to the last moment. He called all of his family who
were present around his bed where he lay dying and talked to them about
his business affairs and told them what he wanted done, and then with a
smile upon his face he told them he was prepared and ready to go and
bid them all good-bye.
Mrs. W. H. Pearson, his only daughter, for whom he kept wishing,
and her two younger brothers did not reach his bedside until three
hours after he was dead -- the balance of his family surrounded his
bedside.
In 1891, Mr. Arnett was induced by Winfield Scott,
the Cattle King of Ft. Worth, to move his family to Coke county and
take charge of his large cattle ranches in that county as general
manager. this position he held for several years when he
purchased on of the ranches from Mr. Scott, and so well did he prosper
in the cattle business that when he died, he left his family in quite
comfortable circumstances. Measured by those qualities that are
secondary to that end, the world must say that his life was a
success. 'Tis the lives of the George Arnetts that make this
world better by their having lived in it, and who bless and make
brighter the lives of all those with whom they come in contact during
their pilgrimage along life's pathway.
...He was a true and upright Mason, and the letter he wrote his lodge,
Robert Lee No. 431, upon his departure from this county, was worthy the
pen of any man. ...No one knew of his many deeds of
kindness. I happened to know of one. While on his last
visit here, he hunted up the hut of Ike Coon, the
old negro who is afflicted with rheumatism, and found him lying upon
his miserable couch. This old negro had belonged to his wife's
father, and recalling the days of long ago, hunted him up and
told him that he and his wife often talked about him and if he would go
out to his ranch he could live with him all his life, and as he
turned to go, placed some silver coins in his hands.
[a few more paragraphs not transcribed.]
Rustler
Burnet, Tex., July 23nd, 1900.
|
|
|
|
|