On a gravestone in the churchyard of Eton, placed to the memory of an innkeeper, it is stated:—
| Life’s an inn; my house will shew it: I thought so once, but now I know it. Man’s life is but a winter’s day; Some only breakfast and away; Others to dinner stop, and are full fed; The oldest man but sups and then to bed: Large is his debt who lingers out the day; He who goes soonest has the least to pay. |
Similar epitaphs to the foregoing may be found in many graveyards in this country. In Micklehurst churchyard, an inscription runs thus:—
| Life is an Inn, where all men bait, The waiter, Time, the landlord, Fate; Death is the score by all men due, I’ve paid my shot—and so must you. |
In the old burial-ground in Castle Street, Hull, on the gravestone of a boy, a slightly different version of the rhyme appears:—
| In memory of John, the son of John and Ann Bywater, died 25th January, 1815, aged 14 years. |
| Life’s like an Inn, where Travellers stay, Some only breakfast and away; Others to dinner stay and are full fed; The oldest only sup and go to bed; Long is the bill who lingers out the day, Who goes the soonest has the least to pay. |
The churchyard of Melton Mowbray furnishes another rendering of the lines:—
| This world’s an Inn, and I her guest: I’ve eat and drank and took my rest With her awhile, and now I pay Her lavish bill and go my way. |
The foregoing inscriptions, comparing life to a house, remind us of a curious inscription in Folkestone churchyard:—