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A terse account of an untimely end is given upon a stone in a Mexican church-yard:
"He was young, he was fair But the Injuns raised his hair."
The following may be read upon the tombstone of Lottie Merrill, the young huntress of Wayne County, Pennsylvania: "Lottie Merrill lays hear she dident know wot it wuz to be afeered but she has hed her last tussel with the bars and theyve scooped her she was a good girl and she is now in heaven. It took six big bars to get away with her. She was only 18 years old."
Upon the tomb of a boy who died of eating too much fruit, this quaint epitaph conveys a moral:
"_Currants_ have check'd the _current_ of my blood, And _berries_ brought me to be _buried_ here; _Pears_ have _par'd_ off my body's hardihood, And _plums_ and _plumbers_ _spare_ not one so _spare_.
_Fain_ would I _feign_ my fall; so _fair_ a _fare_ _Lessens_ not hate, yet 'tis a _lesson_ good.
_Gilt_ will not long hide _guilt_, such thin washed _ware_ _Wears_ quickly, and its _rude_ touch soon is _rued_.
_Grave_ on my _grave_ some sentence _grave_ and terse, That _lies_ not as it _lies_ upon my clay, But in a gentle _strain_ of _unstrained_ verse, _Prays_ all to pity a poor patty's _prey_, _Rehea.r.s.es_ I was fruitful to my _hea.r.s.e_, _Tells_ that my days are _told_, and soon I'm _toll'd_ away."
In Glasgow Cathedral is an epitaph, which is engraved on the lid of a very old sarcophagus, discovered in the crypt:
"Our Life's a flying Shadow, G.o.d's the Pole, The Index pointing at him is our Soul, Death's the Horizon, when our Sun is set, Which will through Chryst a Resurrection get."
In a grave-yard at Montrose, in Scotland, this inscription may still be seen:
"Here lies the Body of George Young And of all his posterity for fifty years backwards."
This brief announcement may be read in Wrexham church-yard, Wales:
"Here lies five babies and children dear Three at Owestry and two here."
In a church-yard near London the following may be deciphered:
"Killed by an omnibus why not?
So quick a death a boon is Let not his friends lament his lot For mors omnibus communis."
There is an unqualified Hibernianism in the following:
"Here lies the remains of Thomas Melstrom who died in Philadelphia March 17th Had he lived he would have been buried here."
A good deal of positive information is conveyed in this epitaph:
"Here lies, cut down like unripe fruit The wife of Deacon Amos Shute; She died of drinking too much coffee, Anny dominy eighteen forty."
To the victim of an accident:
"Here lies the body of James Hambrick which was accidentally shot in the Pacas River by a young man with one of Colts large revolvers with no stopper for the hand for to rest on. It was one of the old fas.h.i.+oned sort, bra.s.s mounted and of such is the Kingdom of Heaven."
William Curtis, who was famous for his bad grammar, may have composed his own epitaph:
"Here lies William Curtis Our late Lord Mayor Who has left this world, And gone to that there."
In a church-yard in London, evidently written by a c.o.c.kney:
"Here lies John Ross.
Kicked by a Hoss."
In Trinity church-yard, New York, this inscription may be read:
"Val. ---- Sidney Breese.
June 9 17--.
Made by himself.
Ha! Sidney, Sidney Liest thou here?
I lye here Till Times last Extremity."
Upon a stone, under the Grocers' Arms, is this inscription, in memory of Garrard, a tea-dealer:
"Garret some called him But that was too lye His name is Garrard Who now here doth lye Weepe not for him Since he is gone before To heaven where Grocers There are many more."
The value of phonetic spelling is set forth in this terse memorial:
"Here lies two brothers by misfortune surrounded One died of his wounds, the other was drounded."
Resignation and an eye to the main chance are combined in the following:
"Beneath this stone, in hope of Zion Doth lie the landlord of the Lion, His son keeps in the business still Resigned unto the heavenly Will."
In a church-yard in Wilts.h.i.+re, England:
"Beneath this stone lies our dear child Whos' gone away from we For evermore into eternity; When we do hope that we shall go to he But him can never come back to we."
On Mrs. Sarah Newman:
"Pain was my portion Physic was my food Groans was my devotion Drugs done me no good.
Christ was my physician Knew what way was best To ease me of my pain He took my soul to rest."
An inscription to four wives:
"To the memory of my four wives, who all died within the s.p.a.ce of ten years, but more perteckler to the last Mrs. Sally Horne who has left me and four dear children, she was a good, _sober_ and _clean_ soul and may i soon go to her.
"Dear wives if you and i shall all go to heaven, The Lord be blest for then we shall be even.
"William Joy Horne, Carpenter."
On a dyer:
"He died to live and lived to dye."
On Mrs. Lee and her son:
"In her life she did her best Now I hope her soul's at rest.
Also her son Tom lies at her feet He lived till he made both ends meet."
At Edinburgh:
"John Mc pherson Was a wonderful person He stood 6 ft 2 without his shoe And he was slew.