eorgia'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. He'll buy thee a long gold chain to wear around thy
neck, and thou shalt be dressed all in white and look like an angel."

Being younger than grandma, and more fond of amusements, he had taken
us to many entertainments; notably, Odd Fellows' picnics and dinners,
where he wore the little white linen apron, which we thought would be
cute for our dolls. He often reminded grandma that she should teach us
to speak the high German, so that we might appear well among
gentlefolk; and my cherished keepsakes included two wee gold dollars
and a fifty-cent piece of the same bright metal, which he had given me
after fortunate sales from the herds. But dearest of all is remembrance
of the evening long ago when he befriended us at Sutter's Fort.

Still, not even those tender recollections could longer hold in check
my resentment against the influences and associations which were
filtering through that bar-room, and robbing me of companions and
privileges that I valued. More than once had I determined to run away,
and then desisted, knowing that I should leave two lonely old people
grieving over my seeming ingratitude. This question of duty to self and
to those who had befriended me haunted my working hours, went with me
to church and Sunday school, and troubled my mind when I was supposed
to be asleep.

Strange, indeed, would it have seemed to me, could I then have known
that before my thirtieth year, I should be welcomed in the home of the
military chief of our nation. Stran