The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1895-12-25
Eccentric Epitaphs.

absurdities in the line OF epitapbs and
obituaries. These express, doubtless,
as sincere grief as if they were well
written; but the effect upon the out
slider is different. He is moved, in
deed, but not to tears. He cherishes
the lines, but not with sorrow, and in
after hours, like WORDSWORTH daffodils,
"They shine upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude"
Obituaries have never been a study
of mine, though came across bona
fde one in Philadelphia paper not
long ago, which deserves mention:
"wALTRRs.-on Oct. 5th, Miss Lizzie nee Sis
Walters Funeral from the residence of her brother.
Bob Walters, 1908 c. Street"
This reminds me of small boy of
my acquaintance, fond of French
phrases, but ignorant of the language,
who spoke of bride as Mrs. Jones,
ecru Smith -! But this is depression;
TOR the business of This article is TO
chronicle a nice arrangement of cpl.
taphs, in the hope that others will en-
Joy them as much as | do.
New England is a fertile field of re-
search for mortuary inscriptions. AL
most every village cemetery has its
gems, and they are scattered all the
way from Maine, where
lies the body of John Mound,
Lost at sea, and never found"
John Phillips,
Accidentally shot mark of affection by his
brother"
sleeps in peace after life's 6tful fever,
to Connecticut, whose marital joys are
set forth in the concise statement:
Here lies the body of obadiah Wilkinson,
And Ruth his wife.
Their warfare is accomplished"
Vermont continues the question " Is
marriage a failure?" and shows both
sides. The first is from Burlington:
"she lived with her husband fifty years.
And died in the confident hope of a better life"
Number two is still more emphatic, and
shows wit, indeed, more akin to
France than sober New England:
My wife lies here
All my tears cannot bring her back
Therefore weep"
A tombstone at Stowe repels curiosity
as follows:
IL was somebody-who, is no business of yours"
while one in Peak Cemetery raises, but
does not satisfy IT,
Thomas gilbert.
The voice of ssepfather beneath this
Stone is to rest one shamefully robbed
In life by his wife's son, and Esq. Tom
And David Leary's wife"
A favorite, found in many places, is:
Stranger reflect you pass by,
As you now, once was |,
As | am now 5 shall you be,
Prepare for death and follow me-"
Those written on children are espe-
cially noticeable 'or their brevity; Tor
instance, this from Stowe:
Sacred to the memory of three twins"
and again, from Burlington,
" Died when young and full of promise,
OF whoopng- our Thomas"
The very virtues of the deceased
often prove their ruin, from an elegiac
point OF view, as in the following case,
IRON Maine:
Here Betsey Brown her body lies,
Her soul is flying in the skies.
While here earth she sometimes spun
Six hundred skens from sun to sun,
And wove lay, her daughter brags,
Two hundred pounds of carpet rags"
and ia another, from Pembroke, n. IL.
Here lies man never beat by plan.
Straight was his aim, and sure of his game,
Never was a lover but invented a revolver"
while Amanda loves has a homely
domesticity. about it thai recalls Lowell''
fayorite epitaph, "She was so pleas
ant!' For Amanda, we learn,
:" loved me. and my grandchildren reverenced her.
She bathed my feet and kept my socks vel
darned."
In Wayland, we have, apparently, The
original mugwump:
Here lies the body of DR.. Hayward.
A man who never voted
OF such is the kingdom of heaven
and at Wendell another original i
buried:
:" Here lies the body of Samuel Proctor
Who lived and died without a DOCTOR"
At Mt. Auburn an especially pungen
inscription is recorded:
Here lies beneath this sod,
[ Who slandered all except his God;
And him he would have slandered too,
I But that his God he never knew"
( And another, in Connecticut, in whicI
J the relatives evidently got even wit
} the husband of The deceased:
( " Here lies the mother of children five,
( OF whom three are dead and two alive;
I The three that are dead preferrlng rather
I To die with their mother than live with the
I father"
( Outside Of New England the harvel
( is not 30 rich; yet some gleanings me
! be presented, ID laware records OF
) in which grief struggles with gramm'
J as follows:
! " And she dead, and she gone?
! And have she left all alone?
! Oh, cruel fate youis unknd
) To take she afore, and leave hindu