But I wanted to explain here that a muck roller is not a muck raker, but a worker in raw iron.
When we boarded the train for Ohio, mother had nothing to look after except the six children.

When the porter asked her where her baggage was, she smiled sadly and said that was a question for a wiser head than hers to answer.

She was glad enough to have all her babies safe.
Everything we owned was on our backs.

Our patient father had toiled for months in Pittsburgh and had sent us nearly every cent to pay our transportation from the Old World.

Now he was out of a job, and we were coming to him without as much as a bag of buns in our hands.
Before leaving New York, I want to tell what kind of city it was in those days.
In a recent magazine article a writer picturing our arrival at Castle Garden said that we "climbed the hill into Broadway and gazed around at the highest buildings we had ever seen." But there were no tall buildings in New York at that time.