Author: Epitaph Page 23

Longest Live Burial World Record Attempt.

Epitaphs

Here lies one that once was born and cried, Lived several years — and then he died

Epitaphs

Beneath this stone now dead to grief Lies Grid the famous Wokag chief. Pause here and think you learned prig, This man was once an Indian big. Consider this, ye lowly one, this man was once a big in-jun. Now he lies here, you too must rot, as sure as pig shall go to pot.

Epitaphs

Here lies a man who all his mortal life, spent mending clocks, but could not mend his wife. The larum of his bell was ne’er so shrill as was her tongue, aye, clacking like a mill. But now he’s gone – oh whither none can tell, but hope beyond the sound of Matty’s bell.

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Here lies old twenty five per cent. The more he had the more he lent. The more he had the more he craved, great God, can his poor soul be saved?

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Well this was fun, let's dit again sometime.

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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.

Epitaphs

Dear God: enclosed, please find Rube Goldberg. Now that you’ve got him, what are you going to do with him?

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

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Gone home below.

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For a good time, dig.

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

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She lived genteely on a small income.

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Here lies Gilles. He used no net, Knew no fear. He made a misstep And wound up here

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Here lies Bob Master. Faith! t’was very hard to take away an honest Robin’s breath. Yes, surely Robin was full well prepared, for he was always looking out for death.

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

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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.

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

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When I was in the military, they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one.

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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