wetona

Updated: June 27, 2025

It is the thing that gives the look of utter pathos and tragedy to the relaxed expression of a circus clown. There are, in a small, Mid-West town like Wetona, just two kinds of girls. Those who go down town Saturday nights, and those who don't. Terry, if she had not been busy with her job at the Bijou, would have come in the first group. She craved excitement.

Edna Ferber - Cheerful—By Request

Not another Wetona train until midnight. She shrank into a remote corner of the waiting room and there she huddled until midnight, watching the entrances like a child who is fearful of ghosts in the night. The hands of the station clock seemed fixed and immovable. The hour between eleven and twelve was endless. She was on the train. It was almost morning. It was morning. Dawn was breaking.

Edna Ferber - One Basket