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Bonner, Geraldine, 1870-1930

"The Emigrant Trail"

"I suppose if I'd left
the candy out it would have sounded better."
"Don't leave the candy out. It was the candy and the truth that made
it all Susan's."
She picked up a stone and threw it in the river, then as she watched
its splash: "Doesn't it seem long ago when we were in Rochester?"
"We left there in April and this is June."
"Yes, a short time in weeks, but some way or other it seems like ages.
When I think of it I feel as if it was at the other side of the world,
and I'd grown years and years older since we left. If I go on this way
I'll be fully fifty-three when we get to California."
"What's made you feel so old?"
"I don't exactly know. I don't think it's because we've gone over so
much space, but that has something to do with it. It seems as if the
change was more in me."
"How have you changed?"
She gathered up the loose stones near her and dropped them from palm to
palm, frowning a little in an effort to find words to clothe her vague
thought.
"I don't know that either, or I can't express it. I liked things there
that I don't care for any more. They were such babyish things and
amounted to nothing, but they seemed important then.


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