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“...per-
ceive a number of men and women, come to pay the last
tribute to the dead leader,solemn, expectant, waiting forme
to begin speaking. I speak. Tell them what sort of man he
was whom we have lost; what he did and for whom he strove
and what his loss means to the Socialist movement, though
that movement will never lose him. I ask them to draw in-
spiration from his life and his work, from what he has said,
has written and has done.
The speaking ends. The casket is closed, and we file
from the dim twilight of the chapel out into the glare of the
sunlit street, meeting streams of people coming from a nearby
larger hall where memorial services have also been held.
The procession forms and we fall in line, thousands of us,
marching behind the hearse, on towards the river and the
bridge. At the bridge the procession halts. The hearse and
the accompanying carriages alone pass across on their way
to the crematorium.
Slowly, we disperse....
FINIS....”
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