There was no church there at that time, but a thickly peopled graveyard, which adjoined that of the First Presbyterian Church, on the corner of Sixth and Wood.

These were above the level of the street, and were protected by a worm-fence that ran along the top of a green bank on which we played and gathered flowers.
Grandmother took me sometimes to walk in these graveyards at night, and there talked to me about God and heaven and the angels.

I was sufficiently interested in these, but especially longed to see the ghosts, and often went to look for them.

We had a bachelor uncle who delighted in telling us tales of the supernatural, and he peopled these graveyards with ghosts, in which I believed as implicitly as in the Revelations made to John on the Isle of Patmos, which were my favorite literature.
When the congregation concluded to abandon the "Round Church," which stood on the triangle between Liberty, Wood and Sixth streets, and began to dig for a foundation for Trinity, where it now stands, there was great desecration of graves.

One day a thrill of excitement and stream of talk ran through the neighborhood, about a Mrs.Cooper, whose body had been buried three years, and was found in a wonderful state of preservation, when the coffin was laid open by the diggers.