Author: Epitaph Page 15

She lived genteely on a small income.

She drank good ale, good punch and wine and lived to the age of 99.

Jack Lemmon In…

Beneath this smooth stone by the bone of his bone – Sleeps Master John Gill; – By lies when alive this attorney did thrive, – And now that he's dead he lies still.

Here lies John Auricular, Who in the ways of the Lord walked perpendicular.

Here lies John Taggart, of honest fame, of stature low, and a leg lame; content he was with portion small, kept a shop in Wigtown, and that's all.

Here lies Bernard Lightfoot who was accidentally killed in his forty fifth year.

Beneath this stone our baby lies, it neither cries nor hollers, It lived but one and twenty days, and cost us forty dollars.

Here lieth Richard Dent in his last tenement.

A thousand ways cut short our days, none are exempt from death. A honey-bee by stinging me did stop my mortal breath.

Here Betsy Brown her body lies. Her soul is flying in the skies. While here on earth she oftimes spun six hundred skeins from sun to sun, and wove one day, her daughter brags, two hundred pounds of carpet rags.

Here lies Tommy Day, removed from over the way.

Here lies the body of John Smith. Buried in the cloisters. If he don't jump at the last trump, call, Oysters!

Beneath this stone a lump of clay, lies Uncle Peter Dan'els – who early in the month of May, took off his winter flannels.

Born of woman, killed by lead. I most likely had your wife in bed.

Dear God, Thanks

 Here lies the body of Dr Hayward, a man who never voted. Of such is the kingdom of Heaven.

He Never Killed a Man That Did Not Need Killing

18 years a maiden, 1 year a wife, 1 day a mother, then I lost my life.

“Deeply regretted by all who never knew him.”

Exit Burbridge