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"Here lies Susan, beloved wife of John Smith; also Jane, beloved wife of John Smith; also Mary, beloved wife of John Smith--"
He paused abruptly, and the bride, leaning forward to see the bottom line, read, to her horror:
"Be Ye Also Ready."
A man wished to have something original on his wife's headstone and hit upon, "Lord, she was Thine." He had his own ideas of the size of the letters and the s.p.a.ce between words, and gave instructions to the stonemason. The latter carried them out all right, except that he could not get in the "E" in Thine.
In a cemetery at Middlebury, Vt., is a stone, erected by a widow to her loving husband, bearing this inscription: "Rest in peace--until we meet again."
An epitaph in an old Moravian cemetery reads thus:
Remember, friend, as you pa.s.s by, As you are now, so once was I; As I am now thus you must be, So be prepared to follow me.
There had been written underneath in pencil, presumably by some wag:
To follow you I'm not content Till I find out which way you went.
I expected it, but I didn't expect it quite so soon.--_Life_.
After Life's scarlet fever I sleep well.
Here lies the body of Sarah s.e.xton, Who never did aught to vex one.
(Not like the woman under the next stone.)
As a general thing, the writer of epitaphs is a monumental liar.--_John E. Rosser_.
Maria Brown, Wife of Timothy Brown, aged 80 years.
She lived with her husband fifty years, and died in the confident hope of a better life.
Here lies the body of Enoch Holden, who died suddenly and unexpectedly by being kicked to death by a cow. Well done, good and faithful servant!
A bereaved husband feeling his loss very keenly found it desirable to divert his mind by traveling abroad. Before his departure, however, he left orders for a tombstone with the inscription:
"The light of my life has gone out."
Travel brought unexpected and speedy relief, and before the time for his return he had taken another wife. It was then that he remembered the inscription, and thinking it would not be pleasing to his new wife, he wrote to the stone-cutter, asking that he exercise his ingenuity in adapting it to the new conditions. After his return he took his new wife to see the tombstone and found that the inscription had been made to read:
"The light of my life has gone out, But I have struck another match."
Here lies Bernard Lightfoot, Who was accidentally killed in the forty-fifth year of his age.
This monument was erected by his grateful family.
I thought it mushroom when I found It in the woods, forsaken; But since I sleep beneath this mound, I must have been mistaken.
On the tombstone of a Mr. Box appears this inscription: Here lies one Box within another.
The one of wood was very good, We cannot say so much for t'other.
n.o.bles and heralds by your leave, Here lies what once was Matthew Prior; The son of Adam and of Eve; Can Bourbon or Na.s.sau claim higher?
--_Prior_.
Kind reader! take your choice to cry or laugh; Here Harold lies-but where's his Epitaph?
If such you seek, try Westminster, and view Ten thousand, just as fit for him as you.
--_Byron_.
I conceive disgust at these impertinent and misbecoming familiarities inscribed upon your ordinary tombstone.--_Charles Lamb_.
EPITHETS
John Fiske, the historian, was once interrupted by his wife, who complained that their son had been very disrespectful to some neighbors.
Mr. Fiske called the youngster into his study.
"My boy, is it true that you called Mrs. Jones a fool?"
The boy hung his head. "Yes, father." "And did you call Mr. Jones a worse fool?"
"Yes, father."
Mr. Fiske frowned and pondered for a minute. Then he said:
"Well, my son, that is just about the distinction I should make."
"See that man over there. He is a bombastic mutt, a windjammer nonent.i.ty, a false alarm, and an enc.u.mberer of the earth!"
"Would you mind writing all that down for me?"