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Catherwood, Mary Hartwell, 1847-1902

"Old Caravan Days"

Some places are so nice!"
"Now it's a pretty thing for you to begin at your time of life,"
said Grandma Padgett, "to set your faces backward and wish for what's
behind. That's a silly notion. Folks that encourage themselves in
doin' it don't show sound sense. The One that made us knew better
than to let us stand still in our experience, and I've always found
them that go forward cheerfully will pretty generally keep the land
of Beulah right around them. Git up, Hickory!"
Thus admonished, the children entered the lone bridge over White
River, or that branch of White River on which Indianapolis is
situated. The stream, seen between chinks in the floor, appeared
deep, but not particularly limpid. How the horses' feet thundered on
the boards, and how long they trod before the little star at the
other end grew to an opening quite large enough to let any vehicle
out of the bridge!


CHAPTER XXIV.
THE TOLL-WOMAN.

Still, as crossing the Sciota at Columbus, had been entering a land
of adventure, crossing the White River at Indianapolis, seemed at
first entering a land of commonplace.
The children were very tired of the wagon. Even aunt Corinne got
permission to ride stretches of the road with Robert Day and Zene in
the wagon.


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