“I don’t ever want to cook, and I'd go plumb crazy distracted if I had to,” said another woman ghost. “I had to cook for my father, five brothers, and all the farm hands, and every one of them with different tastes, and none of them ever satisfied. I nearly died trying to please them all. I used to get so tired that I wanted to die long before I did. Then a man asked me to marry him, and I thought it would be easier to please one man alone than all the sixteen, and I took him. You ought to have seen the way my folks went on! You just ought to have seen it! You would think I had committed an unpardonable sin, but it was done and I must confess that I am glad at the way they have to live now. Father hired many housekeepers, one after another, and when he found one that could really cook he married her. As soon as she was mistress she wouldn't lift her hand to cook a meal, and my brothers all died. Some of them have told me when they saw me here that they were awful sorry, and wished they could undo it all. But, my husband was worse than all the others combined. I just couldn't tell all he made me suffer. At last I gave up and died in self-preservation. I died to get out of the eternal kitchen.” “Why, Martha,” said another ghost, “I never knew it was so bad as that. I always thought you cooked because you liked it and was too proud of your faculty to ever let anyone take your place.” “Well, I didn’t; but I hated worse than all that anyone should know how bad I did hate it. I reckon if we knew all that goes on in our neighbor’s hearts we would have a little more charity. You used to say that I neglected my church duties, and didn't sew for the heathen, and many a tract you left me on the sin of idleness, me what had been up every morning for ten years at four o’clock, and never got to bed till ten and eleven, working every minute all the time. Sometimes I felt like telling you to mind your own business. It is all over now, but I should like to know how much good has all your sewing for the heathen done you towards getting your passport? As you know the truth now, Melissy, which would you rather be: the enlightened Christian with the responsibility of knowledge of good and evil, or the ignorant heathen?” “Yes: I know now, Martha, but I did not then, and now, if it is not too late, I want to ask your forgiveness.” This last was said with an evident disposition on the part of “Melissy” to fall upon the bony neck of “Martha” that an unregenerate man said with a harsh, rasping laugh: “Forget it, forget it! This is no time to bring up old scores. If it were so, there are several fellows here tonight that I could lick with a clear conscience. I don’t hold enmity, but I will say that they will do well not to rouse the sleeping lion.” As this ghost spoke, he turned his face toward two men at a table a short distance away, and waited to see the effect of his words. As no one took up the challenge the man sat down again at the table.