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Houghton, Eliza Poor Donner

"The Expedition of the Donner Party and its Tragic Fate"


Hiram Miller, our guardian, says he will take me to see you soon,
and Elitha is going too.
After the first few days of wondering, grandma rarely mentioned our
prospective visitors, nor did she show Georgia or me the letter she
herself had received from Elitha, but we re-read ours until we knew it
by heart, and were filled with delightful anticipations. We imagined
that our blue-eyed sister with the golden curls would look as she did
when we parted, and recalled many things that we had said and done
together at the Fort.
I asked grandma what "guardian" meant, and after she explained, I was
not pleased with mine, and dreaded his coming, for I had not forgotten
how Mr. Miller had promised me a lump of sugar that night in the
Sierras, and then did not have it for me after I had walked the
required distance; nor could I quite forgive the severe punishment he
administered next morning because I refused to go forward and cried to
return to mother when he told me that I must walk as far as Georgia and
Frances did that day.
Autumn was well advanced before the lumbering old passenger coach
brought our long-expected guests from the _embarcadero_, and after the
excitement of the meeting was over, I stealthily scanned each face and
figure. Mr. Miller's stocky form in coarse, dark clothes, his cold gray
eyes, uneven locks, stubby beard, and teeth and lips browned by
tobacco, chewing, were not unfamiliar; but he looked less tired, more
patient, and was a kindlier spoken man than I had remembered.


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