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Updated: May 26, 2025
Whenever I passed up Chapel-street, I used to see a crowd gazing through the grim iron grating of the door, upon the faces of the drowned within. And once, when the door was opened, I saw a sailor stretched out, stark and stiff, with the sleeve of his frock rolled up, and showing his name and date of birth tattooed upon his arm. It was a sight full of suggestions; he seemed his own headstone.
I've lived through it this once, but if I'm ever asked to play again in public, you'd better go to the cemetery beforehand, and choose a picturesque corner for my grave, and buy a weeping willow ready to plant upon it. Yes, and order a headstone too, with the simple words: 'Died of fright. I mean it! 'Enjoyed it! indeed!
They got the key of the churchyard gates, and, stepping across the somewhat untidily kept graves, stood before an uneven mound, surrounded by a very old mossgrown headstone. 'There's a name on it, child.
Peering through the railings on the side nearest the river, you will see beneath the shadow of the soot-grimed church's soot-grimed porch that is, if the sun happen, by rare chance, to be strong enough to cast any shadow at all in that region of grey light a curiously high and narrow headstone that once was white and straight, not tottering and bent with age as it is now.
In his hand he held a shaggy gray wig, and before me on the floor lay the man whose headstone stood in Casanova churchyard Paul Armstrong. Winters told the story in a dozen words. In his headlong flight down the circular staircase, with Winters just behind, Paul Armstrong had pitched forward violently, struck his head against the door to the east veranda, and probably broken his neck.
No costly sepulchre, but a simple grassy mound, surrounded by gilt iron railings with a plain headstone, recording the name and date of birth and death of the infant Prince, and the words "Suffer little children to come unto Me" added. The church itself is of ancient date, and has been twice restored and enlarged by the Prince.
And old man Tatem was a thrifty and provident man. On the hearth in this best room as ornaments or memento mori were a couple of marble gravestones, a short headstone and foot-stone, mounted on bases and ready for use, except the lettering. These may not have been so mournful and significant as they looked, nor the evidence of simple, humble faith; they may have been taken for debt.
I think I see that purpose. 'The stone which the builders refused is become the headstone of the corner. This is the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes," he quoted unctiously.
Perplexed, he returned to the grave, once more calling upon the resources of his will, and abruptly, so soon as these reached a certain point, the same cross-current set in. He could no longer keep his eyes upon the headstone, could no longer think of the grave and what it held.
It couldn't make it up to her, but as I laid the pretty posies against the leaning headstone on which is written: "A Loving Wife, a Mother Dear, Faithful Friend Lies Buried Here." I believe she 'd get word of it somehow, and understand what I was trying to say by it.
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