b'Jamies GoneBy Don OllesheimerJamies gone! Ya hav na heard? Aye, hes gone w nay a word. Hes left a dozen things undone- Tha plans of stories that hed run, -His books an papers left askew, -The piles of tasks, he meant to do, AM ach, well miss her sore!He was na really much ta see, He had no air of majesty; The sparse an tangled hair was grey; His loose-hung clothes seemed made that way; His paunch-extended walk belied,The dreamer, Jamie, deep inside, An ach, well miss him sore!His thin an haltin voice is still, An canna langer speak his will. A wealth of knowledge he amassed,Ah fear was lost, when Jamie passed; An sadly, just a few will ken,The loss it is to roofing men; An ach, well miss him sore!Twas when he wrote, that he become, A mon of characterof fame; A voice of stature an respect,Whose crown was paper, verbage-decked. Ah fear it will, a lang time be, T find a spokesman, such as he, An ach, well miss him sore! J:\\ASSOC\\MRCA\\Living History\\1969\\The Measure of A Life-McCawley Bio.doc'