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Landon, Melville D. (Melville De Lancey), 1839-1910 [1872], Saratoga in 1901: fun, love, society & satire. Illustrated with 200 photo-etchings by Arthur Lumley. (Sheldon & Company, New York) [word count] [eaf628T]. To look up a word in a dictionary, select the word with your mouse and press 'd' on your keyboard.
The tombstone epitaphs of the ancient Saratogians are too “Come with me,” said the old Sexton, “and I'll show you The funny verse below reads: “My engine now lies cold and still, No water does her boiler fill; Wood affords it flame no more, My days of usefulness are o'er.” We next came to a stone on the top of which was an immense “What does it mean?” I asked. “Well, Ransom Cook,” said the old Sexton, “was a good sea
The next epitaph was erected to Emma A., daughter of “She died leaving five children, She married too young against her father's will: Single women, take warning!” This epitaph caused a good deal of family difficulty, when one “She died leaving 5 lovely children To mourn her untimely loss.” This one is very pretty and tells a tale of love and grief: “We miss our smiling little one. But, O God! `Thy will be done.”' The next was an old crumbling tombstone, perhaps a century “70 years a maiden, 1 year a wife, 2 months a mother, And that took her life.” Here comes a sturdy Puritan epitaph: “Here lies A. DEDRICK, Here is the epitaph to two babies: “Here lie two babies, side by side: Of the small-pox both of them died. Their ages were seven and nine— Prepare to meet your God in time.” What a sweet epitaph has old Cruger Walton placed upon “There's not an hour Of day or dreaming night, but I am with thee; There's not a wind but whispers of thy name, And not a flower that sleeps beneath the moon. But in its hues or fragrance tells a tale Of thee—”
On an old Dutch stone, under the name of Jacob Veder is “Here lies my father Dan, Who left three children to do the best they can.” Alice Harvey puts up this quaint inscription to her sister: “Farewell, my dear father, The Lord bids me come; Likewise my dear mother, 'Tis now I'm gone home. May her soul rest in peace—amen!” A lady friend, at Congress Hall, says this epitaph is in the “Here lies the wife of Robert Ricular, He walked the way of God perpendicular.” This epitaph will be seen near the front entrance: “Libbie grew tired and cried for rest— Such rest on earth is never known; One night she sank on Jesus' breast, And passed away without a groan.” In the old churchyard up by the railroad, somebody says, “We can't have every thing to please us, Little Johnny's gone to Jesus.” Some wag from the Clarendon wrote in pencil underneath: “You sometimes always cannot tell, May be Johnny's gone to H—alifax.” Here is the epitaph of a patriot, who died in Hooker's charge, CAPTAIN LUTHER M. WHEELER. Co. C. 77th Regiment, N. Y. S. M. Killed storming Fredericksburg Heights. Ah! many graves are filled with men Who lived full three-score years and ten; Yet were their deeds so few and small, In fact, they never lived at all. But Wheeler sprang to take the blows Aimed at his country by her foes— He fought and fell for truth: O let the thought our grief assuage— In noble deeds he lived an age, Then nobly died in youth. Aged 22 years.
Here is an epitaph put up by the wife of a hosier: “He left his hose, his Hannah, and his love, To go and sing Hose—annah, in the realms above.” I saw many beautiful “Gone home, Gone to sleep, May we meet in Heaven! My husband. We fade away suddenly like the [grass. If ye love me, ye would rejoice [because I go unto my Father.” How sweet is this: “Little Nettie slumbers sweetly, In her lovely narrow bed. Pelting storm and howling tempest Cannot reach her little head.” On one stone was written this injunction: “Go home, my friend, and wipe off your tears, Here I must lie till Christ appears.” Here is one which, with a change of the word to children, “Children, Dearest Robert, thou hast left us, Susan, Johnnie, Here thy loss we deeply feel, But 'tis God that hath bereft us, He shall all our sorrows heal.” Here is another very common one which can be utilized in the “Carrie, Peace to thy'ne ashes, May, green be the sod above thee, John, Mell, Flowers shall wave above thy grave, To prove that we still love thee.” A fearful shower now threatened from the south, and bidding Eli Perkins.
Landon, Melville D. (Melville De Lancey), 1839-1910 [1872], Saratoga in 1901: fun, love, society & satire. Illustrated with 200 photo-etchings by Arthur Lumley. (Sheldon & Company, New York) [word count] [eaf628T]. |