relieve his rage at being compelled to waste so much precious time
there. I recall only two revengeful lines:

"I hope in hell his soul may dwell,
Who first invented Essex Junction."

Oh, yes, I do remember his idea that the cemetery near the station
contained the bodies of many weary ones who had died just before help
came and were shovelled over.

It happened that Mrs. Underwood, wife of the demented governor, who
had alluded so truthfully to my lecture, was in the audience, and
being gifted with genuine clairvoyant powers, she rose and begged the
audience not to disperse, as she could distinctly see me pacing
nervously up and down the platform at the Junction in a long sealskin
coat and hat trimmed with band of fur. I arrived at last with the
sealskin and the hat, proving her correct, and they cheered her as
well as myself.

Our little village had its share of eccentric characters, as the old
man who was impelled by the edict of the Bible to cut off his right
hand as it had "offended him." But lacking surgical facilities, the
effort left one hand hanging limp and useless. His long white beard,
how truly patriarchal!

Poor insane Sally Duget--a sad story! Her epitaph in our cemetery is
pathetic. With all her woe she was quick at repartee. A man once asked
her, "Shall you ever marry, Sally?" "Well, yes, if you and I can make
a bargain."