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34

(1932) [MARC] Author: Ole Edvart Rølvaag
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added quietly and reverently. Grandma’s eyes had
become moist. Whether it was from the chilly evening
breeze that now swept over the prairies or from calling
up memories of the past, I cannot say. “And here we
have lived and labored ever since.”

“And suffered,” I put in.

“Why add that? Let the dead past bury its dead.
Aren’t you teaching religion?”

The crowd was breaking up. and so we had to return
to the house.

*



It was long before I again met Grandma. Had said
good-bye one morning to the folks with whom I had been
staying through the summer and had come to town,
where I was to take the train east in the afternoon. But
I had yet two hours until train time, and these I was
going to spend with the minister. Grandma happened
to be visiting there, and thus it came about that I met
her a second time.

I was in a bad mood that morning, gloomy and
despondent. On my way to town I had been planning and
figuring how I might scare up money enough to take me
through the school year, but could see no possible way.
It was not very cheerfully, and perhaps still less heartily,
that I answered her kind “good morning.” I felt ashamed
of myself right there. She looked at me a while in
silence. I was quite sure my mood amused her, and this
irritated me. She offered me a chair at her side, and I
sat down.

“And now you are going off to school again?”

“Rather think not. No. Guess I had better pull off
for the woods this winter,” I answered dryly.

“I wouldn’t do that. Finish your education first, and
then take to the woods afterwards.”

Something was oozing up in me that I strove hard to
keep down. “Yes, that advice is easy enough to give, but

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