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Houghton, Eliza Poor Donner

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


Yet, who could say that harm did not emanate from that bar? I could not
but wish that grandpa had no interest in it. I did not want to blame
him, for he was kind by nature, and had been more than benefactor to
Georgia and me.
Fond recollection was ever bringing to mind joys he had woven into our
early childhood. Especially tender and precious thoughts were
associated with that night long ago when he hurried home to inspect a
daguerreotype that had just been taken. Grandma handed it to him with
the complaisant remark, "Mine and Georgia's sind fine; but Eliza's
shows that she forgot herself and ist watching how the thing ist being
made."
Grandpa looked at it in silence, observing that grandma's likeness was
natural, and Georgia's perfect, in fact, pretty as could be; while I,
not being tall enough to rest my elbow comfortably upon grandma's
shoulder, stood awkwardly with my flowers drooping and eyes turned,
intently watching in the direction of the operator. Regretfully, I
explained:
"Grandpa, mine was best two times, for Georgia moved in the first one,
and grandma in the next, and the pictureman said after each, 'We must
try again.' And he would have tried yet again, for me, but the sun was
low, and grandma said she was sorry but this would have to do."
Lovingly, he then drew me to his side, saying, "Never mind, _mein
Schatz_ (my treasure); let grandma and Georgia keep this, and when that
pictureman comes back, grandpa will sit for his picture, and thou shalt
stand at his knee.


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