My hand slipped from his into Elizabeth's. She led me over the
gang-plank. My little dog had followed me. He put his paws upon my
shoulder and was licking the tears off my face. Father called to him,
but he would not leave me. The men carried him to father, the plank was
pulled in, the paddles turned and we steamed away with those on the dock
waving us good-by. Elizabeth took me up on deck where brother and I
stood waving as long as we could see the old home where we had all been
so happy together. We soon reached the harbor, we landed at the Point
dock to take freight. Mr. McKinley had taken his family the trip before
and gone to Ohio for the winter, his clerk taking charge of the business
in his absence. His father, grandpa McKinley as we called him, came on
board to go away for the winter. He was always so kind to us children
and we all loved him. It was Sunday, but I noticed the Mormon women had
their washing on the line, Saturday being their Sunday.
We steamed away and soon could see nothing about us, as it was snowing
and the sea was heavy. Our boat rolled and pitched about so no one could
stand upon their feet. Jane, the cabin maid, took me to her private
cabin and let me lie on her couch. As I lay there I began to realize I
was leaving my home. It was dark, the lamps were lighted and I said, "Oh
I must go home. I can't leave father and mother." Elizabeth took me to
her room, putting me in her berth. There I sobbed myself to sleep.