Author: Epitaph Page 11

Reader if cash thou are – In want of any – dig 4 feet deep – And thou wilt find a Penny.

Epitaphs

As you are now, I once was. As I am now, you shall be. So prepare for death and follow me.

Epitaphs

Here lies England's premier baron, – Patiently awaiting the last trump.

Epitaphs

He lived one hundred and five. Sanguine and strong. A hundred to five, you live not so long.

Epitaphs

Peter Letig was his name, Heaven I hope his station, Baltimore was his dwelling place and Christ is his salvation.

Epitaphs

In the pride of his manhood he heard the last call, – Though first in the field where his feet pressed the sod. – He hath gained his last wicket and thrown his last ball, – To join in the choir 'round the throne of his God.

Epitaphs

It is so soon that I am done for, I wonder what I was begun for.

Epitaphs

Life is a jest, and all things show it; I thought so once and now I know it.

Epitaphs

Beneath this silent tomb is laid, a noisy antiquated maid, who from her cradle talked till death, and ne'er before was out of breath.

Epitaphs

The death angel struck Alexander McGlue and gave him protracted repose; he wore a checked shirt and a No. 9 shoe And had a pink wart on his nose. No doubt he is happy a-dwelling in space over on the evergreen shore. His friends are informed that his funeral takes place at precisely a quarter past four.

Epitaphs

Here lies England's premier baron, patiently awaiting the last trump.

Epitaphs

Rab McBeth – who died for the want of another breath.

Epitaphs

Uncle Walter Loved To Spend. He Had No Money in the End. But with Many a Whiskey and Many a Wife, He Really Did Enjoy His Life.

Epitaphs

They abounded in riches but she wore the britches

Epitaphs

He has gone to the only place where his own works are excelled.

Epitaphs

John Summer – An English Teacher who Could not only Spell the word "Epitaph" correctly, But also knew what it means.

Epitaphs

Neal Keven – His accounts were found square to a cent.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Molly Dickie, the Wife of Hall Dickie, tailor

Epitaphs

… Going! Going!! Gone!!!

Epitaphs

Here lies Lotta Dust.

Epitaphs

Pray, reader, stop, and read my fate, – What caused my life to terminate; – For thieves one night, when in my bed, – Broke in my house and shot me dead.

Epitaphs