“I do not belong here, for I am buried in old St. Luke's, and if it hadn't been for the kindness of a friend I should have had nowhere to go tonight. I really wish we could stay dead and not have to come out until we are called for transfer. I never come out, but I am made to wish I hadn't. You know they have taken our peaceful resting place and made a public park of it, and that without being sure that we were all removed. Those of us without relatives left were removed by the Trinity Corporation, or at least that is what I was told. While they were moving the bodies, I remembered a verse that was written by someone who must have seen something like this. It runs: “There's a grim one-horse hearse in a jolly round trot, To the churchyard a pauper is going, I wot; The road is rough and the hearse has no springs, And hark to the dirge which the mad driver sings: ‘Rattle his bones over the stones, He's only a pauper whom nobody owns.’” “Nobody seems to think that old bones can feel. What hurts me worst though is where it said on my monument, for I had a rather nice one for the period when I was buried, that ‘she died at the age of 21 in the bloom of her youth and beauty, leaving her parents and her young husband desolate.’ Yes; my young husband remained desolate just one year and a day, and then he married again. But as long as they lived my parents mourned for me. I tell you what, my dears, a man’s love for a woman lasts just as long as she is there to make him comfortable, and no longer. I saw him not long ago, and he is old and fat, bald and toothless, and he chews tobacco. Since then I have been almost glad that I am dead. I wish I could get my passport, but I suppose I have not learned all the lessons the Master has set for me.” “Do you believe that it is true that when we marry there is a truer union than that between parents and children? You know that it says in the Bible, ‘For this cause a man shall leave his father and his mother, and they twain shall be one flesh.’” Another woman who up to now had taken no part in the conversation spoke in a resonant voice, and with a certain manner that betokened long practice in public. She said impressively: “Yes; we have all heard that, but I think the translators have got it mixed, and it should not read shall, but will leave his father and mother, for we know that he will do just as he likes and find a good reason for anything he wants to do. And we do not need to be told how long it takes him to forget the wife he declared he could not live without. And we can calculate to the hour when he will remarry. The fact of the matter is that man is an utterly selfish being. Women have been expecting too much of men. They should be taught that women are not to be made the playthings of an idle hour. Oh, if we could only advise our earthly sisters! Let us form a union—a strong union—and make our displeasure felt at this outrageous infidelity. I will be president,”