I was searching for an ancestor, I cannot find him still, He moved from place to place and dis not leave a will. He married where the courthouse burned, he mended all his fences, He advoided any man who came came to take the U. S. Census. He always kept his baggage packed, this man who had no fame, And every 20 years or so, this rascal changed his name. His parents came from Europe. They should be on some list of passengers to the U. S. A., but somehow they got missed. And no one else in this world is searching for this man. So I play geneasolitaire to find if I can. I’m told he’s buried in a plot, with a tombstone he blessed; but the weather took engraving, and some vandals took the rest. He died before the country clerks decided to keep records, No family Bible has emerged, in spite of all my efforts. To top it off, this ancestor who caused me many groans, Just to give me one mor pain, betrothed a girl named JONES!! Taken from "The Royster Family (From Whence We Came, compiled before 2001. Transcribed by jwdw 22 Jun 2013
Posted on: Sat, 22 Jun 2013 13:25:50 +0000
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