Author: Epitaph Page 23

DOUBT – Martha Mae “Take the back roads!” • Bill – “It’s five o’clock somewhere!”

Epitaphs

The body that lies buried here – By lightning fell, death's sacrifice, – To him Elijah's fate was given – He rode on flames of fire to heaven.

Epitaphs

Here lie the remains of John Hall, grocer. The world is not worth a fig, and I have good raisins for saying so.

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Here lies Matthew Mudd, Death did him no hurt; when alive he was Mudd, but now he's only dirt

Epitaphs

On the whole I would rather be living in Philadelphia.

Epitaphs

Here lays Butch. We planted him raw. He was quick on the trigger – But slow on the draw.

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Here lies the body of Robert Gordon, mouth almighty and teeth according. Stranger tread lightly on this wonder, if he opens his mouth you are gone to thunder.

Epitaphs

Here lies old Caleb Ham, by trade a bum. When de died the devil cried, Come, Caleb, come.

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Here lies Tommy Day, removed from over the way.

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How sleep the brave who sink to rest, by all their country's wishes blest, they sleep not in their regimentals. Such things being here not deemed essentials.

Epitaphs

Bye

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The milk of human kindness was Vny own dear cherub wife – I'll never find another one as good in all my life. – She bloomed, she blossomed, she decayed. – And under this tree her body we laid.

Epitaphs

Sudden and unexpected was the end – Of our esteemed and beloved friend, – He gave to all his friends a sudden shock – By one day falling into Sunderland dock.

Epitaphs

The dust of Melantha Gribbling, swept up at last by the Great Housekeeper

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He heard the angels calling him, from the celestial shore. He flopped his wings and away he flew, to make one angel more.

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Here lies the body of Jonathan Tilton, whose friends reduced him to a skeleton. They robbed him out of all he had And now rejoice that he is dead.

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While on earth my knee was lame, I had to nurse and heed it. But now I’m at a better place, where I don’t even need it.

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At length a grave spots for him provided, where all through him so many of us died did.

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Here he lies, James T. Carson. He blew up his wife and was hung for arson.

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Reader, I've left this world, in which I had a world to do; sweating and fretting to get rich: just such a fool as you.

Epitaphs

Connection reset by peer – He came, he saw, he logged out

Epitaphs