Author: Epitaph Page 11

Poor Martha Snell, she's gone away. She would if she could, but she could not stay; she'd two bad legs, and a baddish cough, but her legs it was that carried her off.

Epitaphs

Here lies Tommy Day, removed from over the way.

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Here lies Bryan Wilkinson – The doc said he'd be 'alright,’ Guess doc was all wrong

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Here lies the body of Mary Morgan. Like the morning dew she glistened, exhaled, and went to heaven.

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In Memory of Jacob, third son of Capt. Jacob Rice, died May 7, 1818 Et. 9 yrs. – His death was occasioned by the fall of a dung fork, one tine penetrating his brain.

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This man when alive was a slave, but behold such is fate, having died he is equal in power, to Darius the Great.

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Rest In Peace Cousin Huet – We all know you didn't do it

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Here lies the body of Emily White, she signalled left, and then turned right.

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Here lieth the body of my lovely dear wife Anne, who plays the poker machines whenever she can.

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Here lies John Higley whose father and mother were drowned in their passage from America. Had they both lived they would have been buried here.

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

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Here lies, cut down like unripe fruit, The wife of Deacon Amos Shute. She died of drinking too much coffee, Anno Dominy eighteen forty

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On the whole I would rather be living in Philadelphia.

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Our Little Charlie – He dropped into our world to taste life’s bitter cup, but turned his little head aside, disgusted with the taste and died.

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Here lies the body of Johnny Haskell, A lying, thieving, cheating rascal; He always lied, and now he lies, He has no soul and cannot rise.

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He was literally a father to all the children of the parish.

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Here lies the body of Obadiah Wilkinson – And Bulb, his wife. – Their warfare is accomplished.

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See how God works his wonders now and then, here lies a lawyer, and an honest man.

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At last, a year-round resident

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Don’t Talk So Damn Dumb

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Here lies the landlord Tommy Dent In his last cosy tenement.

Epitaphs