Hod Putt

Here I lie close to the grave Of Old Bill Piersol, Who grew rich trading with the indians, and who Afterwards took the bankrupt law And emergeed from it richer than ever. Myself grown tired of toil and poverty And beholding how Old Bill and others grew in wealth, Robbed a traveler one night near Proctor's Grove, Killing him unwittingly while doing so, For the which I was tried and hanged. That was my way of going into bankruptcy. Now we who took the bankrupt law in our respective ways Sleep peacefully side by side.