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March 3.'91.

Just left Marion. Just arrived in Jonesboro. A little bit excited at present. It is the jar of the train that causes me to write so awful tho! I was certain I was on the wrong train. I expect I acted a fool. But it seemed so funny to come back to Jonesboro.

Then I had in my mind such a fresh remembrance of getting on the wrong train once before.

Walter came to Marion with me. He had put me on the train and bade me farewell - The old train backed down the track and stopped. A fellow came into the car, and was hailed with "Where are you
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