And awful dry his whustle.”
The following is copied from a tombstone in the East Neuk o’ Fife—Crail, I think:—
“Here lies my good and gracious Auntie,
Wham Death has packed in his portmanty,
Threescore and ten years God did gift her,
And here she lies, wha de’il daurs lift her?”
On a tombstone in the old churchyard of Peterhead there was wont to appear this interrogatory inscription:—
“Wha lies here?
John Sim, ye needna’ spier.
Hullo, John, is that you?