John T. Baker, Obituary</head><body><center><center><img src=http://www.saviodsilva.com/p1.gif border=0 alt=Saviodsilva></center><hr color=3C00FF size=4><br><font size=4 face=arial><b><a href=13.htm>John T. Baker</a></b></font><br><center><img src=http://www.saviodsilva.net/poem/a/1.JPG border=0 alt=Poem></center><br><font size=3 face=arial><b>Obituary</a></b></font></center><blockquote><blockquote><p align=left><font face=arial size=2><b>When Al was gone, his grieving spouse,<br>A lovely lass named Mary,<br>Requested that the paper print<br>Her mate's obituary.<br>Of course! What would you like to say?<br>The editor replied;<br>So Mary thought a moment and<br>Then said, Just put, 'Al died.' <br>That's all? Al died? the editor<br>Responded doubtfully;<br>Don't fret about the cost, my dear,<br>The first five words are free.<br>She pondered for a little while,<br>At first to no avail,<br>Then brightened up and said, Okay!<br>Put, 'Al died. Boat for sale.' </b></font> </blockquote></blockquote><hr color=0000ca size=3><center><font size=2 face=arial><b><a href=http://www.isavo.net/poem/sk3.htm>This Poem's Index Page 1</a><br><a href=http://www.yensa.net/poem/sk3.htm>This Poem's Index 2</a><br><a href=http://www.isavo.com/poems.htm>Poetry Website</a><br><a href=http://www.saviodsilva.com>Saviodsilva</a><br><a href=http://www.isavo.com>Isavo Site</a></b></font></center><SCRIPT LANGUAGE=JavaScript SRC=http://www.saviodsilva.org/r/fantasy.js></SCRIPT></body></html>