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CHAPTER III
MY FIRST JOURNEY ALONE
Well! I didn’t travel entirely alone, either,
you must know; for, you see, I had Karsten
with me. But he was only nine years old that
summer, so that it was about the same or even
worse than traveling alone. To make a
jour-ney with small children by steamer isn’t
alto-gether comfortable, as any grown person will
tell you.
It is curious how tedious everything gets at
home in your own town when you have decided
to make a journev. Whatever it might be that
the bovs and girls wanted to play—whether it
was plaving ball in the town square, or
hide-and-go-seek in our cellar, or caravans in the
desert up on the liilltop, or frightening old
Miss Einarsen by knocking on her window
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