Author: Epitaph Page 21

Beneath the stone, a lump of clay, lies the man called Peter Hannels, who early in the month of May, took off his winter flannels.

Here, reader, turn your weeping eyes, My fate a useful moral teaches; The hole in which my body lies Would not contain one half my speeches

Here rests an old woman who always was tired, for she lived in a house where no help was hired; Her very last words were, “My friends I am goin*, to a land where there's nothin' of washin' or sewin', and everything there shall be just to ray wishes, for where they don't eat there's no washin' of dishes; the land with sweet anthems is constantly ringin', but having no voice I'll get clear of the singin'." She folded her hands, her latest endeavor, and whispered, "Oh nothin', sweet nothin forever."

Here lies the body of Mary Ann Lowder. She burst while drinking a Seidlitz powder. Called from this world to her heavenly rest, she should have waited till it effervesced.

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.

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

Here lies a man named Zeke. Second fastest draw in Cripple Creek.

They abounded in riches but she wore the britches

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

Here lies one who for medicine would not give, a little gold, and so his life he lost: I fancy now he'd wish again to live, could he but guess how much his funeral cost.

… He's done a-catching cod, and gone to meet his God.

Longest Live Burial World Record Attempt.

Of him within, nought e'er gratis was had, that you read this so cheap now makes him sad.

Here lies two brothers by misfortune surrounded; one died of wounds, but the other was drownded.

Here lies Elizabeth, my wife for 47 years, and this is the first damn thing she ever done to oblige me.

If Heaven be pleased when sinners cease to sin, if Hell be pleased when sinners enter in, if Earth be pleased when ridded of a knave, then all are pleased for Coleman’s in his grave.

Sacred to twins Charlie and Varlie. Sons of loving parents who died in infancy.

This stone was raised by Frieda's Lord, not Frieda's virtues to record, for they are known to all the town. This stone was raised to keep her down.

Here lie Walker's particles.

Murdered by a traitor and coward whose name is not worthy to appear here

Little Johnny had a purple monkey, climbing up a yellow stick, little Johnny licked the purple paint of and it made him deathly sick. They stirred him up with calomel, they tried to move his liver, but all in vain, his little soul was wafted o'er the River.