The following obituary appeared in the Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph of Sept. 16, 1958:<br /><br />A GREAT POET died last week in Lancieux, France, at the age of 84.<br /><br />He was not a poet's poet. Fancy-Dan dilletantes will dispute the description "great."<br /><br />He was a people's poet. To the people he was great. They understood him, and knew that any verse carrying the by-line of Robert W. Service would be a lilting thing, clear, clean and power-packed, beating out a story with a dramatic intensity that made the nerves tingle.<br /><br />And he was no poor, garret-type poet, either. His stuff made money hand over fist. One piece alone, The Shooting of Dan McGrew, rolled up half a million dollars for him. He lived it up well and also gave a great deal to help others.<br /><br />"The only society I like," he once said, "is that which is rough and tough - and the tougher the better. That's where you get down to bedrock and meet human people."<br /><br />He found that kind of society in the Yukon gold rush, and he immortalized it.