Summary

Portrait of Viola Roseboro' Viola Roseboro' McClure's Magazine, Volume 27, Number 4… (1907)

I had Dad to cross-question at the proper age, at seven say, when questioning comes easy, when you talk naturally in interrogation points, but I had no such chance at Archie Graham. I know we bivouacked nights in the desert before we came to another camp. There's the flight into Egypt for you; fire is the most beautiful thing in the world, and it is never so beautiful as in the blue twilight of the desert. The other men had to wait on Archie like bond slaves, while Archie waited on me.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Viola Roseboro' Viola Roseboro' McClure's Magazine, Volume 27, Number 4… (1907)

My darling Daddy met us in New York, and we traveled across the continent in a special car. He kept a wistful awe of me till we struck the desert, the desert that had stamped its brand on me before I could remember, and burned it in with more than one strange adventure, after I came to consciousness. Like the ocean, the desert can have no rivals: it is akin to nothing else in creation
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Viola Roseboro' Viola Roseboro' McClure's Magazine, Volume 27, Number 4… (1907)

He washed me and dressed me, cleaned my bottles and my clothes, sang me to sleep, and all the time carried me, carried me while he walked behind the burro train on the edge of precipices and through the desert, carried me on one arm and guided a horse with the other, and held me close while those old stage coaches swayed and bumped along and the driver kept his lookout for road-agents and bad Indians. What's the use of expecting me to be like other people after a start like that! Don't mind! I always do swell up inside with little weeps when I talk about it.
Source: Wikisource

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