Subject: Epitaphs (Page 29)

I started out in life with the idea, that the world had an opening for me. And it did.

Epitaphs

Planted here beneath sod. At peaceful rest lies brother Claude

Epitaphs

I will NOT be right back after this message.

Epitaphs

RUSSELL J. LARSEN – Two things I love most, good horses and beautiful women, and when I die I hope they tan this old hide of mine, and make it into a ladies riding saddle, so I can rest in peace between the two things I love.

Epitaphs

Good friends for Jesus' sake forbear – To stir the dust enclosed here. – Blest be the man who spares these stones – And cursed be he who moves my bones.

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Here lieth father Sparges, who died to save charges.

Epitaphs

His faults are buried with him beneath this stone. His virtues (if he had any) are remembered by his friends.

Epitaphs

Here lies the body of Samuel Crane – He ran a race with a passenger train. He got to the crossing and almost across. Sam and his car was a total loss. Sams spirit now tolls his knell. That Sam is on his way to well – If he only took time to stop look and listen, He'd be living now instead of missing

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Where did everybody go?

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Farewell my young companions all. From death's arrest no age is free. Remember this, a warning call. Prepare to follow after me.

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When I am dead, I hope it may be said: His sins were scarlet, but his books were read.

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Here lies Scott Jacobson – Who came upon an evil lich, he didn't even think to run, and ended up in this ditch

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He looked for gold and died of lead poison

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This is to the memory of Ellen Hill, a woman who would always have her will. She snubbed her husband but she made good bread. Yet on the whole he’s rather glad she’s dead. She whipped her children and she drank her gin, whipped virtue out and whipped the devil in. May all such women go to some great fold, where they through all eternity may scold.

Epitaphs

Until the brakes are turned on time, – Life's throttle-valve shut down. – He works to pilot in the crew – That wears the martyr's crown. – On schedule time, on upper grade – Along the homeward section. – He lands his train in God's roundhouse – The mom of resurrection. – His time is full, no wages docked, – His name on God's pay roll. – And transportation through to Heaven – A free pass for his soul.

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Here lies Estella – Who transported a large fortune to heaven, in acts of charity, and has gone thither to enjoy it.

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He never won immortal fame, nor conquered earthly ills, but men weep for him all the same, he always paid his bills.

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Old Vicar Sutor lieth here, Who had a Mouth from ear to ear. Reader tread lightly on the sod. For if he gapes, you're gone by G —.

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Robert Phillip, gravedigger: Here I lie at the Chancel door; Here lie I because I am poor; The farther in the more you pay; Here I lie as warm as they.

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To the memory of David Wall – Whose superior performance on the bassoon endeared him to an extensive musical acquaintance. His social life closed on the 4th Dec. 1796. in his 57th year.

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Stranger pause and shed a tear, for Mary Jane lies buried here. Mingled in a most surprising manner with Susan, Marie and portions of Hannah.

Epitaphs