Democratic messenger., 1896-07-11
Eccentric EpitaphS.
BY PRISCILLA LEONARD.

|HUMAN nature, from the cradle
to the grave. is perverse and
the parents who give their helpless
infants such names as "I.abussa Flussa''
Or "Keren-happuch Kezia" leases
which happened within my knowledge)
are next door neighbors to the relatives
who add new terrors to death by their
absurdities in the line of epitaphs and
obituaries. These express, doubtless,
as sincere a grief as if they were well
written but the effect upon the out
slider is different. He is moved, indeed,
but not to tears. He cherishes the
lines, but not with sorrow, and in
after hours, like Wordsworth's daft.
fodils,
They shine upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude"
Obituaries have never been study
of mine, tho | came across a bona. fide
one in Philadelphia paper not long
ago, which deserves mention
"WALTERS.-On Oct. 9TH, Miss
Lizzie. nee ISIS" Walters. Funeral
from the residence of her brother, Bob
Walters, 1908 c. ST."
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 for
the business of this article is to chronicle
mice arrangement of epitaphs," in
the hope that others will enjoy them
as much as | do.
New England is fertile field OF
research for mortuary inscriptions.
Almost 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"
and where
John Phillips.
Accidentally shot as mark of affection
by his brother sleeps in peace after
life's titful fever. to Connecticut, whose
marital joys are set forth in the concise
statement
Here lies the body of Obadiah Will
kinson.
And Ruth his wife.
Their warfare is accomplished.
Vermont continues the question rs
marriage failure p and shows both
sides. The first is from Burlington
"She lived with her husband fifty years,
And died in the confident hope of
better life"
Number two Is still more emphatic,
and shows a 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 curios-
ity as follows:
81 was somebody who, is no business
of yours"
while one in Peak Cemetery raises,
but does not satisfy it
Thomas Culbert.
The voice Of a stepfather beneath this
Stone is 10 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 as you pass by.
AS YOU are now, so once was |
As | am now, so shall you be,
Prepare for death, and follow me"
Those written on children are espec-
tally noticeable for their brevity for
instance, this from Stowe:
Sacred to the memory of three twins;
and again, from Burlington,
"Died when young and full of promise,
OF whooping cough our Thomas"
The very virtues of the deceased
often prove their ruin, from an elegiac
point of view, as in the following case,
from Name:
"Here Betsey Brown her body lies,
Her soul is flying in the skies.
While here on earth, she sometimes
spun
Six hundred seems, from sun to sun,
And wove one day her daughter
brags.
Two hundred pounds of carpet rags"
and in another, from Pembroke, n. H.,
Here lies man never beat by plan,
Straight was his aim, and sure of his
game
Never was Il lover but invented a
revolver"
while Amanda loves has homely
domosticity about it that recalls
Lowells favorite epitaph, She was so
pleasant = For Amanda, we learn.
''loved me, and my grandchildren
reverenced her.
She bathed my feet, and kept my socks
well darned"
In Wayland, we have apparently, the
original Mugwump:
Here lies the body Of DIR. Hayward.
A man who never voted.