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Riis, Jacob A., 1849-1914

"The Making of an American"

As I started up
with a cry of recognition, he settled into a seat with a contented--
"Here, Overlaerer, is one for you," and I was face to face with my
father, grown very old and white. My heart smote me at the sight
of his venerable head.
[Illustration: "I was face to face with my father."]
"Father!" I cried, and reached out for him. I think he thought he
saw a ghost. He stood quite still, steadying himself against the
door, and his face grew very pale. It was the doctor, ever the most
jovial of men, who first recovered himself.
"Bless my soul!" he cried, "bless my soul if here is not Jacob,
come back from the wilds as large as life! Welcome home, boy!" and
we laughed and shook hands. They had been out to see a friend in
the country and had happened upon my train.
At the door of our house, father, who had picked up two of my
brothers at the depot, halted and thought.
"Better let me go in first," he said, and, being a small man, put
the door of the dining-room between me and mother, so that she
could not see me right away.
"What do you think--" he began, but his voice shook so that mother
rose to her feet at once.


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