Lived and died will soon be written of all now living, but how we lived and are spending the golden moments of life are subjects of vital importance to all.
A long life was ended last Wednesday evening, January 27, 1892, in the death of John F. Miller, at the home of his son George Miller, in Harrisburg township. He was born in Fayette county, Penn., Nov. 30, 1809, and was married to Jane White, May 12, 1835. He came to Iowa in 1857; his wife died June 10, 1865. He was the father of eight children, three girls and five boys, seven of whom survive him. Since the death of his wife he made his home with his son above mentioned, for a period of seventeen years. Although he was past eighty-two years of age such was his industrious habits formed in early life, that his willing hands found something to do every day, even if some member of the family did say to him (as they often did), it was not required of him.
Rev. J. Lee conducted the funeral service, taking for his text: What is your life? It is like a vapor which appeared for a little time and then vanished away." His remains were carried to their last resting place and were laid by the side of the wife of his youth, in the White cemetery, to await the resurrection of the last day.
A long life was ended last Wednesday evening, January 27, 1892, in the death of John F. Miller, at the home of his son George Miller, in Harrisburg township. He was born in Fayette county, Penn., Nov. 30, 1809, and was married to Jane White, May 12, 1835. He came to Iowa in 1857; his wife died June 10, 1865. He was the father of eight children, three girls and five boys, seven of whom survive him. Since the death of his wife he made his home with his son above mentioned, for a period of seventeen years. Although he was past eighty-two years of age such was his industrious habits formed in early life, that his willing hands found something to do every day, even if some member of the family did say to him (as they often did), it was not required of him.
Rev. J. Lee conducted the funeral service, taking for his text: What is your life? It is like a vapor which appeared for a little time and then vanished away." His remains were carried to their last resting place and were laid by the side of the wife of his youth, in the White cemetery, to await the resurrection of the last day.
Lived and died will soon be written of all now living, but how we lived and are spending the golden moments of life are subjects of vital importance to all.
A long life was ended last Wednesday evening, January 27, 1892, in the death of John F. Miller, at the home of his son George Miller, in Harrisburg township. He was born in Fayette county, Penn., Nov. 30, 1809, and was married to Jane White, May 12, 1835. He came to Iowa in 1857; his wife died June 10, 1865. He was the father of eight children, three girls and five boys, seven of whom survive him. Since the death of his wife he made his home with his son above mentioned, for a period of seventeen years. Although he was past eighty-two years of age such was his industrious habits formed in early life, that his willing hands found something to do every day, even if some member of the family did say to him (as they often did), it was not required of him.
Rev. J. Lee conducted the funeral service, taking for his text: What is your life? It is like a vapor which appeared for a little time and then vanished away." His remains were carried to their last resting place and were laid by the side of the wife of his youth, in the White cemetery, to await the resurrection of the last day.
A long life was ended last Wednesday evening, January 27, 1892, in the death of John F. Miller, at the home of his son George Miller, in Harrisburg township. He was born in Fayette county, Penn., Nov. 30, 1809, and was married to Jane White, May 12, 1835. He came to Iowa in 1857; his wife died June 10, 1865. He was the father of eight children, three girls and five boys, seven of whom survive him. Since the death of his wife he made his home with his son above mentioned, for a period of seventeen years. Although he was past eighty-two years of age such was his industrious habits formed in early life, that his willing hands found something to do every day, even if some member of the family did say to him (as they often did), it was not required of him.
Rev. J. Lee conducted the funeral service, taking for his text: What is your life? It is like a vapor which appeared for a little time and then vanished away." His remains were carried to their last resting place and were laid by the side of the wife of his youth, in the White cemetery, to await the resurrection of the last day.
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