These trees were cut away and the first section of the burial
space was invaded with the spade. Tomb No. 40, over which the
iron railing now passes, was divided down as far as where the
occupants are lying. Within the sepulchre were several bodies.
One was the body of Nathaniel Cunningham, Sr. Another was Ruth
Cunningham, his wife. The younger members of the family were
also there in death.

When the lid of one coffin in this invaded tomb was lifted, it
was found that a mass of the living roots of the old strong elm
near by had twined about the skull of the sleeper, had entered
through the apertures, and had eaten up the brain. It was the
brain of James Otis which had given itself to the life of the elm
and had been transformed into branch and leaf and blossom, thus
breathing itself forth again into the free air and the Universal
Flow.

The body of the patriot had been deposited in this tomb of his
father-in-law, the Nathaniel Cunningham just referred to, and
had there reposed until the searching fibres of another order of
life had found it out, and lifted and dispensed its sublimer part
into the viewless air. Over the grave in which the body was laid
is still one of the rude slabs which the fathers provided, and on
this is cut the name of "George Longley, 1809," he being the
successor of the Cunninghams in the ownership of Tomb No. 40.

Here, then, was witnessed the last transformation of the
material, visible man called James Otis, the courageous herald
who ran swinging a torch in the early dawn of the American
Revolution.