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Reminiscences of Ralph Waldo Emerson By Louisa May Alcott

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Reminiscences of Ralph Waldo Emerson
By Louisa May Alcott

Reminiscences of Ralph Waldo Emerson

A s I count it the greatest honor and happiness of my life to have known Mr. Emerson, I gladly accede to a request for such recollections as may be of interest to the young readers for whom I write.

My first remembrance is of the morning when I was sent to inquire for little Waldo, then lying very ill.

His father came to me so worn with watching and changed by sorrow that I was startled, and could only stammer out my message.

“Child, he is dead,” was his answer.

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