“This market was erected by Colonel Luke S. O’Connor during his Governorship, A.D. ——.”
I said to myself, “Oh! indeed,” and passed on.
Thirty yards further down the road I saw a tablet attached to an old swish wall. I walked up to it and read:—
“This wall was repaired during the Administration of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, Governor, A.D. ——.”
It did not appear to me that this was such a stupendous feat as to need commemoration, so I turned down a side-street and walked on. In a few minutes I met a pump standing in the middle of the road. I saw there was an inscription on this too, and tried to avoid it, but a fatal fascination drew me on, and I read:—
“This pump was erected for the benefit of the thirsty wayfarer during the Governorship of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, A.D. ——.”
I began to get rather tired of this, and turned towards the country, where I thought there could not be any more advertisements of this kind. I passed a dilapidated battery, which bore testimony in letters of stone to the worth of the departed monarch, Colonel Luke S. O’Connor the First, and approached the Colonial Hospital. From afar off I perceived a slab of darker stone let into the masonry of the wall, and I turned my head the other way. It was no use, I could not pass it, and I groaned in spirit as I read:—
“This building was enlarged during the Administration of Colonel S. Luke O’Connor, Governor, A.D. ——.”
I staggered away and wandered into a neglected grave-yard by the side of the path to Oyster Creek. I was in hopes that I might be able to sooth my mind by finding the grave of this departed potentate; but, alas! after a long search I only found a tomb which bore the following remarkable epitaph:
“Sacred to the memory of the bodies of three sailors, which were washed on shore on March ——, A.D. ——. This monument was erected during the Administration of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, Governor.”