No one could call it dying.
He had no pain.

He was going to his last sleep "As sweetly as a child, Whom neither thought disturbs nor care encumbers, Tired with long play, at close of summer's day Lies down and slumbers." "Good-by, Crawford--for a little while.

We'll hae nae tears.

I hae lived joyfully before my God these ninety years; I am going out o' the sunshine into the sunshine.

Crawford, through that sair strait o' yours you hae set a grand, wide-open door for a weight o' happiness.