With profound regret we have to announce the death of Mr Harvey Rawson, whose demise occurred with painful suddenness in the early hours of Thursday morning. Suffering from an attack of bronchitis, Mr Rawson took to his bed on Monday afternoon. On Wednesday afternoon, however, it was announced that this had developed into congestion of the lungs. Even then the news only reached a few, and, when, the following morning, it was published that Mr Rawson had passed away during the night, it was received with incredulity by many who had not heard that their friend had been laid aside. In fact only last week he had returned from holiday at the coast apparently looking much better for the rest and change.

The funeral took place on Thursday afternoon, a prior service at St. Cyprian's Cathedral being conducted by the Rev F G Nelson who also officiated at the graveside in West End Cemetery. The principal mourners were the deceased's widow and Mr F J Beaton, who represented the only and absent son, Mr Arnold Rawson, an attorney practising in East Pondoland. Large numbers of public citizens and personal friends followed in the cortege, whilst the coffin and hearse were covered with beautiful wreaths and floral tributes, tokens of poorly expressed but heartfelt sympathy with the sorrowing relatives.

Mr Rawson, who was born in Sheffield, 58 years ago, came of a

highly respected Yorkshire family, one of whom recently stood as a Unionist candidate for the British Parliament. On the Diamond Fields, where Mr Rawson arrived a quarter of a century ago, he worthily upheld the family traditions for rectitude in business and integrity of character. Some ten years ago he took over the Creamery Café and proprietorship of this popular rendezvous naturally brought him into touch with large numbers of local residents, all of whom thought highly of him. With the younger manhood of the town he was also a universal favourite, having practically been the pivot of the YMCA under its numerous secretariats. Here more particularly was he known as “Daddy,” which, in his case, was a term of affection, not conveying any implication of maturer years, but as the well-earned name of endearment for one older in years, maybe, but young in sympathy and interests, and for one who could enter into the plans, recreations, and ambitions of those young men with a heartiness and enthusiasm all too rare in this prosaic age. More especially, perhaps, with these will his loss be sorely felt, and wherever they are now located — widely separated by lands and seas — the news of his departure will arouse many memories and sincere regrets.

To the sorrowing widow and son we extend deep-felt sympathy — a sympathy more than usually general and sincere.

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