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Houghton, Eliza Poor Donner

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


Deft fingers had shirred the pale-blue silk over a frame which had
been cut down from ladies' size, arranged an exquisite spray of
Marechal Niel rosebuds and foliage on the outside, and quilled a soft
white ruching around the face, which emphasized the Frenchy style and
finish so pleasing to grandma.
Did I look old fashioned? Yes, for grandma said, "Thou art like a
picture I saw somewhere long ago." Then she continued brightly, "Here
are thy mits, and thy little embroidered handkerchief folded in a
square. Carry it carefully so it won't get mussed before the company
see it, and come not back late for milking."
The Seminary playground was so noisy with chatter and screams of joy,
that it was impossible to remember all the games we played; and later
the dining-room and its offerings were so surprising and so beautifully
decorated that the sight nearly deprived me of my appetite.
"Mumps. Bite a pickle and see if it ain't so!" exclaimed a neighbor to
whom Georgia was showing her painful and swollen face. True enough, the
least taste of anything sour produced the tell-tale shock. But the most
aggravating feature of the illness was that it developed the week that
sister Elitha and Mr. Benjamin W. Wilder were married in Sacramento;
and when they reached Sonoma on their wedding tour, we could not visit
with them, because neither had had the disease.
They came to our house, and we had a hurried little talk with a closed
window between us, and were favorably impressed by our tall "Brother
Ben," who had very blue eyes and soft brown hair.


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