Greenville, O., has the honor of being the home of Brigadier General Siegerfoos, the highest commissioned officer from the United States to make the supreme sacrifice. "He answered the call of his country in the defense of Liberty, Humanity and the cause of democracy." Branch of service, 56th Brigade, 28th Division. He was wounded at Mount Blainville, near the Argonne Forest and died at Souilly, France, October 7, 1918. As if to join in this glorious celebration Nature unfurled many a banner of rarest beauty. There was the deep red of the crimson rambler, the blue of larkspur and clematis forming a wonderful background for the golden stars of the daisy that nodded and gleamed in the warm, clear light. For the white stripes of her emblem she chose the hydrangeas and elderberry. True, they were not arranged in order, like the colors of our lovely banner, but seeing them singly brings out their meaning more clearly, for there is much to contemplate in Old Glory, and we must analyze one color at a time. (Again we thought of the G. A. R. encampment in June.) Among the many worthy veterans who honored Greenville with their presence was the proud father of Warren G. Harding, of Marion, Ohio. All were delighted with the lovely St. Clair Memorial Hall, whose classic beauty makes it an elevating and refining influence in the community. Then, too, the well kept library, with its fine museum containing the old original treaty of the Indians and many other interesting relics, will repay anyone who visits it. As we journeyed through the beautiful agricultural region of Darke county we took a just pride in the well-kept homes with their broad and sunny acres, stretching away in one vast expanse of billowy grain or corn fields lying green and fair beneath the summer sky. We found a restful charm in these pleasant rural homes that recalled "A Song," written by Ella Wheeler Wilcox: A SONG Is anyone sad in the world, I wonder? Does anyone weep on a day like this, With the sun above, and the green earth under? Why, what is life but a dream of bliss? With the sun, and the skies, and the birds above me, Birds that sing as they wheel and fly-- With the winds to follow and say they love me-- Who could be lonely? O-ho, not I! Somebody said, in the street this morning, As I opened my window to let in the light, That the darkest day of the world was dawning; But I looked and the East was a gorgeous sight. One who claims that he knows about it Tells me the earth is a vale of sin; But I and the bees and the birds, we doubt it, And think it a world worth living in. Someone says that hearts are fickle, That love is sorrow, that life is care; And the reaper Death, with its shining sickle, Gathers whatever is bright and fair.