Whatsume'er the failings on his part, Remember reader he were that good in his hart.

Here lies W.C.Fields. I'd rather be living in Philadelphia.

Here my sister, after a fit of clappings and screamings, beat her hands upon her bosom and upon her knees, and threw her cap off, and pulled her hair down - which were the last stages on her road to frenzy. Being by this time a perfect fury and a complete success, she made a dash to the door

His form was of the manliest beauty, His heart was kind and soft, Faithful, below, he did his duty; But now he's gone aloft.

For though his body's under hatches, His soul has gone aloft.

Tom" softly over the coach-roof.
"Hallo", Joe."
"Did you hear the message?"
"I did, Joe."
"What did you make of it, Tom?"
"Nothing at all, Joe."
"That's a coincidence, too" the guard mused, "for I made the same of it myself.