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Papa preached every morning at 8 0’clock in the college chapel and at night in the church. You never saw such a path up the mountain to the church, before they made a new one. It was like climbing a tree. But they all got there and crowded the church. Would you believe it, I found a little namesake of yours up here at Mr. Jack Gross’ between two big mountains. They call her Annie Guerrant and all say she looks like you. Of course, she is a beauty. I stopped to see a woman who weaves blankets on a big loom in the front porch. It was a curiosity. The men were building the new girl’s dormitory out of great hemlock logs, all saved square. It will be beautiful. This is the only college in this big country, and the people are very proud of it. One day four hundred crowded into the chapel to hear the exercises. Well, we started home at 6 0’clock in the morning on two mules. You ought to have seen me. I know I looked like a horsefly on that big mule, but I stuck to him, and he brought me through all right. 1896
It is so refreshing to read these posts. Buckhorn is a beautiful place, then and now.
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