
When Caroline Meeber boarded the afternoon train for Chicago, her total outfit consistedof a small trunk, a cheap imitation alligator-skin satchel, a small lunch in a paper box, anda yellow leather snap purse, containing her ticket, a scrap of paper with her sister's addressin Van Buren Street, and four dollars in money. It was in August, 1889. She was eighteenyears of age, bright, timid, and full of the illusions of ignorance and youth. Whatever touchof regret at parting characterised her thoughts, it was certainly not for advantages nowbeing given up
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