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GOLDEN  LAND 


THE  TRUE  STORY  OF 


BRITISH  SETTLERS 


IN    CANADA 


ARTHUR  E.  COPPING 

WITH  24  PLATES  IN  COLOUR  BY 

HAROLD  COPPING 


IMMIGRANTS   TRAVKLLING   THROUGH    CANADA   IN   A    COLONIST    CAR   OF 
THK   C.P.R.,   AS   DKSCRIBED   IN   CHAPTER   II. 


THE   GOLDEN   LAND 


THE  TRUE  STORY  AND  EXPERIENCES 
OF    BRITISH     SETTLERS    IN    CANADA 


BY 

ARTHUR   E.    COPPING 

AUTHOR  OF  "GOTTY  AND  THE  GUV'NOR,"   "JOLLY  IN  GERMANY,"  ETC. 


WITH   TWENTY-FOUR   ILLUSTRATIONS   IN  COLOUR   BY 

HAROLD    COPPING 


TORONTO 
THE  MUSSON  BOOK  COMPANY 

LIMITED 
LONDON:    HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON 


Printed  in  1911 


TO 
THE   RIGHT   HON.  JOHN   BURNS,   M.P. 

PRESIDENT  OF 
THE  LOCAL  GOVERNMENT  BOARD 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

IN  THE  STEERAGE          .  .  .  .  i 

Leaving  Liverpool — An  examination  of  eyes — Our 
third-class  cabin  and  its  fittings — Pathetic  last  fare- 
wells— A  bewildered  multitude — The  serene  sand-pit — 
Our  first  meal — An  epidemic  of  sea-sickness — Formali- 
ties of  identification — Breakfast  appetites  and  changes 
of  the  clock — Carrie  toddles  on  deck — The  sailor  and 
the  sugared  biscuit — Granny's  maiden  voyage — A 
young  mother's  trials  and  hopes — The  Manchester 
man  and  his  concertina — Unseasonable  emigrants — 
Heroes  of  the  steerage — Visitors  from  the  first-class — 
Goodbye  to  whales  and  porpoises — Vaccination  ordeals 
— Chicken-pox  and  the  yellow  flag — Arrival  at  Quebec 
— Detention  in  the  Immigration  Hall — The  routine 
described. 


CHAPTER  II 

BY  TRAIN  TO  WINNIPEG  .  .  .  .     17 

A  street  on  wheels — Glimpses  of  French  Canada — A 
good  use  for  tree-stumps — Wistful  immigrants — Meals 


vi  CONTENTS 


in  the  restaurant-car — Sleeping  in  the  Pullman — 
Cheaper  opportunities  tested — Feeding  against  time — 
Facilities  of  the  tourist-cars — Trying  to  sleep  in  a 
sitting  posture — Sharing  the  immigrants'  quarters — 
Ingenious  and  excellent  berths — Using  one's  boots  as 
a  pillow — A  cooking  stove  free  to  all — Handicapped 
travellers — Why  Salvation  Army  immigrants  enjoy  the 
journey  —  Through  smiling  Southern  Ontario  —  The 
restless  breadwinners — A  beautiful  rocky  wilderness — 
Sunset  on  Lake  Superior — Amid  flowers  and  wood- 
lands— Winnipeg's  free  hotel — At  the  inquiry  office — 
200,000  homesteads  to  choose  from — The  demand  for 
farm  hands — Free  board  and  lodging  with  substantial 
wages — Married  couples  in  great  demand — Work  and 
good  pay  for  everybody — Our  sojourn  at  the  Immigra- 
tion Hall — What  I  did  and  saw  in  the  kitchen. 


CHAPTER  III 

WHEAT  AND  WEALTH    .  .  .  .  -37 

Jobs  I  was  offered — Labour  conditions  reversed :  the 
suppliant  employer — Monte  Cristos  of  Manitoba — In  the 
Dauphin  Valley — Beauties  of  the  landscape — Society 
on  the  prairie — The  ubiquitous  telephone — Rich  black 
soil — Quick  methods  of  amassing  fortunes — Typical 
experiences  of  Donald — Why  Canadian  farming  pays 
— Its  simple  methods  explained — How  to  gain  capital 
and  experience — Wealthy  men  in  shabby  clothes — 
From  penniless  immigrant  to  prosperous  farmer — 
Initial  years  of  toil  and  stress — The  price  of  horses, 
oxen,  and  cows — Necessary  machines  and  what  they 
cost — Crops  and  their  value — Free  homesteads  v.  culti- 
vated land — A  warning  to  the  immigrant  with  capital 
—The  story  of  Anthony— Old  King  Cole. 


CONTENTS  vii 


CHAPTER   IV 

PAGE 

BARNARDO  BOYS  AND  A  BARONET'S  SON    .     .  50 

The  titled  lady,  her  son  and  the  pig-sty — Music  and 
literature  on  the  prairie — A  garden  of  perfumed  pretti- 
ness — Jim  recalls  his  past — Petty  larceny  and  the 
training-ship — Assaulting  a  bully  at  sea — Homeless  in 
London — A  visit  to  Stepney  Causeway — Sent  out  to 
Canada — From  farm  boy  to  landowner — The  fruits  of 
seven  years'  toil — My  visit  to  Mr.  Green — A  workhouse 
boy  grown  prosperous — Wheat  on  low  land  :  expen- 
sive experience — A  Barnardo  couple— Their  children 
and  the  skunk — A  housewife's  philosophy — How  to 
live  free  of  cost — The  way  to  make  fowls  pay — Ex- 
changing eggs  and  butter  for  groceries  and  clothes — 
Why  the  Fishers  have  no  butcher's  bill — Co-operative 
production  and  distribution  :  the  working  of  a  Beef 
Ring  explained — The  Canadian  winter  :  its  delights  and 
drawbacks — Concerning  frost-bites — Children  on  horse- 
back— Loneliness  and  the  telephone — The  far-away 
poverty — "  Tell  them  to  come." 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  BARR  COLONY       .  .  .  .  .    71 

A  seductive  scheme — Its  weak  spot — A  long,  arduous, 
and  costly  trek — Living  in  tents — Keeping  animals  at 
bay — Lloydminster  then  and  now — A  butcher's  ad- 
ventures— Dr.  Amos  and  the  axe  wounds — Mr.  Barr's 
withdrawal — The  remaining  leader — A  loyal  leader — 
How  the  log  church  was  built — Its  stately  successor — 
Arrival  of  the  first  train — Miriam  and  her  birthright — 
Mr.  Hill's  farm — A  Cockney's  triumph — Memories  of 
tribulation — An  abortive  beginning — Hindrances,  bad 


viii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

luck  and  debt — The  turning  of  the  tide — Piling  up 
the  dollars— Canada  as  a  cure  for  worry — Value  of 
the  Hill  estate — Achievements  of  Lloydminster  men 
— Their  town  analysed — A  widespread  aspiration. 


CHAPTER  VI 
NIGHTINGALE  IN  IRRICANA        .  .  .  -85 

Stereotyped  method  of  colonisation — Sir  Thomas 
Shaughnessy's  innovation — The  concession  of  territory 
to  the  C.P.R. — Why  they  took  land  they  previously 
refused  —  Irrigating  3,000,000  acres — 1,600  miles  of 
canals  and  ditches  —  An  Irishman's  experiences — 
Raising  cattle  without  trouble  or  cost — The  effi- 
ciency of  branding — Profits  from  irrigated  land — 
How  Mr.  Buckley  began  farming — Terms  of  land 
purchase — What  he  bought,  and  the  prices — His 
phenomenal  wheat  :  a  story  of  brilliant  blundering — 
The  rudiments  of  irrigation  explained — New  way  of 
coping  with  prairie  fires — Finding  live  fish  on  ploughed 
land — The  Strathmore  expert  and  his  experiments — 
Driving  to  the  "  Ready-made  "  farms— A  tethered  black 
bear — Nightingale  and  its  citizens — Their  former 
callings — A  happy,  hopeful  community — Benefits  of 
co-operation — Opening  of  the  first  store — An  idea  that 
may  mark  an  epoch 


CHAPTER  VII 
IN  A  LOGGING  CAMP     .  .  .  .  .  101 

Climbing  into  a  forest — Butterflies  and  burnt  trees — 
The  various  climates  of  British  Columbia — Asleep  on 
a  log — Our  arrival  at  the  camp — Exploring  the  skidway 


CONTENTS  ix 

PAGE 

— Disconcerting  experiences — The  falling  tree — An 
invitation  to  supper — A  strange  and  silent  meal — "  Pass 
the  carrots" — A  race  of  semi-wild  cats — Ten  fluffy 
black  kittens — Furtive  philanthropy — Sleeping  on  the 
floor — An  early-morning  toilet — My  personally-con- 
ducted tour — The  terrifying  cable — Meeting  a  rushing 
log — Preoccupied  toilers — Shrieking  donkey-engines — 
Opening  up  a  new  road — A  sorely-tried  hook-tender — 
Buckers  and  snipers — How  I  nearly  broke  my  spine — 
Tree-felling  described — The  gold-miner's  story — A 
backwoodsman's  shack — An  arrival  of  venison — The 
logs'  last  journey. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FRUIT  GROWING  IN  B.  C.  .  .  125 

A  nonagenarian  immigrant — The  hand  of  destiny  :  a 
remarkable  story  of  derelict  orchards — An  outlaw  and 
his  plush  frame — Why  Mr.  Johnstone's  visitors  stayed 
to  dinner — The  smothered  apple-trees — Pioneer  work 
at  Nelson  —  A  rescued  plantation  —  The  unknown 
genius  —  A  mining  town  in  a  new  character — Sir 
T.  Shaughnessy  and  the  challenge  cup — Apples  of 
juicy  sweetness — My  lesson  in  fruit-packing — "  Back- 
to-the-land "  enthusiasm  in  B.C.  —  Orchard  of  an 
English  lady  —  From  4  Ibs.  to  4  car-loads  of  prunes 
— Overburdened  trees,  and  how  they  are  treated  — 
The  testimony  of  the  forests — My  feast  of  blackberries 
— Lofty  raspberry-canes — Settlers  from  Cornwall — 
Their  stages  of  evolution — Fruit  ranches  in  exquisite 
scenery — Searching  for  the  best  location  —  Profits 
from  orchards  —  What  the  beginner  may  expect 
— Hints  to  intending  immigrants — The  minimum 
capital  necessary — Average  price  of  cleared  land — 
Blasting  the  roots — Cost  of  a  modest  house — How  to 
succeed  with  fruit  and  poultry — A  warning. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   IX 

PAGE 

AIDED  IMMIGRANTS  FROM  ENGLISH  CITIES      .  .  143 

Public  funds  and  emigration  :  a  movement  in  its 
infancy — Chief  cause  of  delayed  repayments — Visit  to 
Earl's  Court,  Toronto — Turning  shacks  into  villas — 
Experiences  of  a  West  Ham  man — An  early  set-back 
— Buying  his  piece  of  land — What  can  be  done  with 
£2  a  week — Building  the  house — The  delights  and 
profits  of  gardening — Another  reason  why  remittances 
fail — Strange  case  of  X.,  the  chef — Why  he  lost  two 
jobs — On  the  Athabasca  trail — Cooking  strange  meats 
—  Six  months'  illness  —  Turning  the  corner  —  An 
Edmonton  investment — Unadaptable  Englishmen — 
Y's  quarrel  with  the  farmer — Salvation  Army  emi- 
grants— How  to  collect  repayments  :  a  suggestion — 
Z.  and  his  employers. 

CHAPTER  X 
A  PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS         .  .  -159 

Objection  to  communities — "Sparrow"  and  "Broncho" 
— Interviews  at  cross-purposes — Mr.  Bruce  Walker's 
story  of  the  loafer — Criticisms  from  Mr.  W.  D.  Scott — 
Case  of  magisterial  indiscretion — Canadian  opinion 
explained — Unwise  emigration  during  recent  years — 
Wholesome  effect  of  present  restrictions — English 
wastrels  in  Canadian  cities — The  improvement  in  1910 
— Lord  Strathcona's  testimony — Statement  by  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior — Prosperous  settlers  from 
English  cities — A  case  for  preferential  treatment — 
Wanted,  a  stepping-stone — How  farmers  are  lost  to 
Canada — Mr.  Rowland's  suggestion — The  "green" 
man's  need  of  three  dexterities — Interview  with  the 
Prime  Minister  of  Manitoba — Mr.  Oliver's  views — The 
Londoner's  "mental  alertness" — On  the  Salvation 


CONTENTS  xi 

PAGE 

Army's  programme — Experimental  farms  of  the  Federal 
Government — Provincial  agricultural  colleges — Train- 
ing-grounds in  England  —  Successful  emigration 
societies — The  appeal  to  our  farm  labourers. 


CHAPTER  XI 

EXPERIENCES  OF  THE  MIDDLE-CLASS  LAD      .  .  175 

Willie's  school  days  and  early  prospects — Why  he  went 
to  Canada — An  unathletic  young  "  tender  foot " — Quo- 
tations from  his  diary — Flying  fish,  sleighs,  and  half- 
breeds — Arrival  in  Saskatchewan — Engaged  at  ten 
dollars  a  month — The  shacks — Cleaning,  stoning,  and 
discing — The  doctor's  prairie  fire — Chasing  a  wolf — 
Troublesome  cattle — Willie's  second  engagement — A 
grumbling  employer — Herding  steers,  cows,  and  a  bull 
— First  "  lessons  "  in  driving — Willie's  service  dispensed 
with — His  controversy  about  wages — He  gets  another 
berth — A  day's  work  in  detail — Willie  learns  to  plough 
and  drive — Left  in  charge  of  the  farm — Stacking  hay 
single-handed — Bathing,  picnics,  and  pleasant  Sundays 
— Willie  joins  a  threshing  gang — Working  for  ten 
shillings  a  day — An  engagement  for  the  winter — His 
duties  as  hall  porter — A  typewriting  and  shorthand  job 
— Working  on  the  railway  section — Glorious  January 
weather — Willie  nearly  takes  up  a  homestead — Over 
^50  saved  in  eighteen  months — Willie  as  I  found  him 
— Nine  jobs  to  choose  from. 

CHAPTER  XII 
THE  Two  ONTARIOS      ......  195 

Old  Ontario  and  its  origin — Toronto — Agricultural 
evolution — Peach  orchards,  vineyards,  and  tobacco 
plantations— Dairy  farming  on  a  grand  scale — New 


xii  CONTENTS 

PACK 

Ontario — Why  it  was  overlooked — Its  timber  and 
minerals — Sudbury  and  Cobalt — My  experiences  in 
Old  Ontario — Enthusiastic  farmers — The  old  Scotch- 
man's experiment — Guelph  College  :  remarkable  result 
of  up-to-date  tuition — Opportunities  for  farmer  immi- 
grants— "  Home  "  boys — Testimony  of  Mr.  W.  D.  Scott 
— Inspecting  the  little  apprentices — Interview  with  Mr. 
G.  Bogue  Smart — Chat  with  a  vivacious  lady — Her 
Barnardo  Boy  husband — Anecdotes  about  Sammy — 
Old  Ontario's  grievance  :  why  her  sons  go  west — The 
Grand  Trunk  Pacific  line — New  Ontario  and  the 
Prairie  Provinces  :  pros  and  cons — The  Great  Clay 
Belt — Development  along  the  Government  railway — 
The  right  type  of  settler — Adventures  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Jack. 

CHAPTER  XIII 
WOMEN  SETTLERS          .  .  .  .  .221 

Grumblers  and  optimists — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Y and  their 

untidy  shack — A  paralysed  pig  and  a  broken  plough — 

The  lady's  lament — Mr.  and  Mrs.  C from  Chelsea 

— Persian  rugs  and  old  oak  on  the  prairie — An  artist's 
strange  experiences — Left  with  the  baby  on  a  snowed- 
up  train — Farming  without  knowledge — Crop  failures 

and  dying  stock — How  Mrs.  C saved  the  situation — 

A  head  waitress  and  her  story — Confessions  of  a  cultured 
lady — Quaint  preparation  for  Canada — Girls  I  inter- 
viewed at  Vancouver — Testimony  of  an  ex-school 
teacher — Canadian  children  :  a  nursemaid's  impres- 
sions— The  dressmaker  and  her  mother — My  visit  to 
their  cosy  flat — Immigration  experiences  of  a  pet  dog 
— Why  the  old  lady  attends  Salvation  Army  services — 
A  girl's  appreciated  draughtsmanship — Shopping  in 
England  and  Canada  :  a  comparison — Questions  I  put 
to  servant-girls — Reasons  for  their  contentment — 
Abrupt  proposals  of  marriage. 


CONTENTS  xiii 


CHAPTER  XIV 

PAGE 

EDUCATION         ......  250 

England  and  Canada  compared— Imagination  and 
reality — Vigorous  vitality  of  new  traditions — Embryo 
towns  and  the  telephone — Education  in  the  Prairie 
Provinces — An  enlightened  curriculum — Object-lessons 
from  Nature — My  visit  to  a  prairie  school — Quotations 
from  the  blackboard — What  the  little  girls  were  doing 
— Signalling  in  silence — Interview  with  a  schoolmaster 
— Canada's  social  problems — Retired  farmers  and  their 
empty  lives — Educating  the  second  generation — A 
nation  of  optimists — Climate  and  happiness — Canada's 
future. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

IMMIGRANTS     TRAVELLING      THROUGH     CANADA     IN     A 

COLONIST   CAR  ....      Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

THE  CHILDREN'S  SAND-PIT  BETWEEN  DECKS  ON  THE 

SS.   EMPRESS  OF  BRITAIN    .  ...  8 

A  LIVING  ROOM  IN  THE  GOVERNMENT'S  FREE  HOTEL      l6 
THE  KITCHEN  OF  THE  WINNIPEG  IMMIGRATION  HALL      34 
A  BACHELOR'S  SHACK  AND  HIS  TEAM  OF  OXEN          .      40 
THE  ELEVATOR  .  .  .  .  .  .48 

A  HOMESTEAD  NEAR  RUSSELL,  MANITOBA        .  .      54 

FIELD  OF  GRAIN  .  .  .  .  .66 

THE  4<  LOG-CABIN"  CHURCH,  LLOYDMJNSTER  .  .      78 

WHAT  A  PRAIRIE  TOWN  LOOKS  LIKE    .          .          .82 
CANAL  NEAR  GLEICHEN,  ALBERTA  .  .      88 


xvi  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

A   BUMPER  CROP  ON   IRRIGATED   LAND                  .                .  96 

THE   LOGGING  CAMP        .                .                .                .                .  IIO 

A   RAFT   OF   LOGS                .....  122 

CROP  OF  "NORTHERN  SPY"  IN  A  B.  c.  ORCHARD      .  132 

A  FRUIT  RANCH,  ON  THE  KOOTENAY  LAKE   .       .140 
TWO  STAGES  OF  SETTLEMENT  AT  EARL'S  COURT,  NEAR 

TORONTO   .       .       .       .       .       .  146 

HOMESTEAD   OF  AN    EX-ARTISAN    FROM    PLUMSTEAD        .  l66 
UNTILLED    PRAIRIE   IN   AUTUMN                 .                .                .  178 
WHERE     WILLIE     BATHED  :     LAKE    SCENE     IN     SASKAT- 
CHEWAN       ......  l88 

LOADING  UP  PUMPKINS  IN  OLD  ONTARIO        .           .  206 

ARRIVAL  OF  A  SALVATION  ARMY  PARTY  OF  WOMEN    .  230 

"THEY'VE  GOT  FARMS  IN  THE  COUNTRY,  THEY  SAY"  248 
EVENING  ON   THE  PRAIRIE  !    CHILDREN   RETURNING 

FROM  SCHOOL        .....  258 


CHAPTER    I 

IN  THE  STEERAGE 

Leaving  Liverpool — An  examination  of  eyes — Our  third- 
class  cabin  and  its  fittings — Pathetic  last  farewells 
— A  bewildered  multitude — The  serene  sand-pit — 
Our  first  meal — An  epidemic  of  sea-sickness — For- 
malities of  identification — Breakfast  appetites  and 
changes  of  the  clock — Carrie  toddles  on  deck — 
The  sailor  and  the  sugared  biscuit — Granny's  maiden 
voyage — A  young  mother's  trials  and  hopes — The 
Manchester  man  and  his  concertina — Unseasonable 
emigrants — Heroes  of  the  steerage — Visitors  from 
the  first-class — Goodbye  to  whales  and  porpoises 
— Vaccination  ordeals — Chicken-pox  and  the  yellow 
flag — Arrival  at  Quebec — Detention  in  the  Immi- 
gration Hall — The  routine  described. 

THERE  are  three  great  crises  in  human  life— 
and  sometimes  a  fourth.  I  was  one  of  the  nine 
hundred  and  odd  third-class  passengers  with 
whom  the  Empress  of  Britain  was  racing  across 
the  Atlantic  ;  and,  before  the  Welsh  mountains 
had  faded  astern,  I  realised  that  emigration 

The  Golden  Land,  2  I 


2  IN   THE    STEERAGE 

is,  among  experiences,  the  fellow  of  birth  and 
death  and  marriage.  For  the  crowded  steerage 
of  a  great  liner,  if  she  be  bound  for  Canada, 
is  a  world  where  emotion  masters  convention, 
and  man  forgets  to  wear  his  mask. 

Let  me  trace  happenings  from  the  time  that 
graceful  monster  drew  alongside  the  Liverpool 
quay  and  the  gangways  shot  out.  We  had 
early  proof  that  the  Empress  of  Britain  is  not 
only  a  ship,  but  an  organism — a  complex 
organism  adjusted  to  absorb  two  thousand 
graded  human  beings.  How  to  get  on  board 
was  a  problem  that  long  baffled  my  brother  and 
myself.  Standing  in  long  queues,  and  elbow- 
ing one's  way  amid  the  throng  of  stricken 
relatives,  proved  fatiguing,  especially  as  the 
English  climate  had  lapsed  into  hot  sunshine. 

The  mechanism  of  emigration  was,  at  this 
initial  stage,  moving  with  cautious  delibera- 
tion. Our  first  victory  over  circumstances 
lay  in  finding  a  gangway  available  for  third- 
class  luggage ;  whereupon  we  lost  touch 
with  our  property,  and  paid  the  man  with 
the  barrow.  Away  aft  the  ship  was  slowly 
swallowing  second-class  passengers,  and  there, 
acting  on  the  advice  of  constables  in  straw 
helmets,  we  took  our  stand  and  waited.  At  last 


IN   THE   STEERAGE  3 

came  the  turn  of  our  rank,  though,  alas  !  the 
order  rang  out :  '*  Scandinavians  first !  " 

I  had  already  noted  the  group  of  foreigners 
with  large,  innocent  faces,  no  collars,  and 
ponderous  bodies  roofed  by  wide-awakes  of 
formidable  circumference.  On  the  bridge 
those  gentle,  untidy  aliens  were  carefully 
examined,  one  by  one — men,  women,  and 
phlegmatic  youngsters.  Their  heads  were  un- 
covered and  tilted,  uncompromising  thumbs 
pushed  back  their  brows,  and  vigilant  doctors 
peered  into  the  sockets  of  their  eyes.  For 
trachoma  is  a  serious  disease,  and  Canada 
wants  no  more  of  it. 

At  last  we  stood  before  the  ship's  doctor, 
who  waved  us  on  with  the  smiling  assurance  : 
"You  are  all  right."  But  in  my  case  one 
of  the  other  doctors  was  not  so  sure.  He 
bared  my  head  and  confronted  me  with 
searching  severity.  Then  he  returned  my  cap 
and  I  was  free  to  emigrate. 

The  Empress  of  Britain  was  like  unto  a  dis- 
turbed ants'  nest  of  several  stories,  congested 
with  bewildered  inhabitants  in  moving  masses 
of  black  confusion.  Hillocks  of  luggage  were 
the  eggs,  and  already  certain  of  the  human 
insects  had  gone  to  the  rescue.  Each  attached 


4  IN   THE   STEERAGE 

himself  to  a  labelled  egg,  with  which  he 
struggled  down  one  of  the  crowded  alleys,  to 
secrete  his  precious  burden  in  a  niche  of  safety. 
To  share  in  that  labour  was  not  our  immediate 
impulse.  We  must  first  find  our  niche  of 
safety. 

Questions  and  shoving  brought  us  to  a 
spacious,  pillared  saloon,  with  a  perspective 
of  fixed  chairs  and  narrow  tables.  Here,  await- 
ing our  turn  in  a  multitude,  we  received  from 
a  busy  official  the  number  of  a  cabin,  in  which 
we  soon  were  depositing  our  recovered 
possessions.  Spotlessly  clean,  with  washing 
facilities,  straw-stuffed  beds  on  springy  bunks, 
and,  for  each,  a  life-belt  bolster,  a  blanket, 
and  a  coverlet — the  cabin  represented  every- 
thing that  civilisation  required  and  a  simple 
taste  could  desire.  And  so,  our  own  affairs 
in  order,  we  went  along  corridors  and  up  steps 
to  the  open  deck,  where  men  and  women  were 
waving  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  and  trying  not 
to  think.  The  sobbing  and  the  copious  tears 
were  less  pathetic  than  the  dry,  straining  eyes 
in  blanched  faces. 

Lancashire  was  on  the  horizon  when  we  re- 
turned below,  there  to  renew  acquaintance  with 
babel  and  bewilderment.  The  Empress  of 


IN   THE   STEERAGE  5 

Britain  had  swallowed  the  population  of  a 
good-sized  village,  and  the  process  of  digestion 
was  still  in  progress.  They  seemed  inex- 
tricably mixed — those  hundreds  of  men,  and 
hundreds  of  women,  and  hundreds  of  children. 
But  in  the  human  maelstrom  there  was  an 
island  of  rest.  A  stout  wooden  barricade  pro- 
tected a  square  arena  that  had  a  billowy  basis 
of  silver  sand ;  and  in  that  haven  seven 
toddling  emigrants,  equipped  with  buckets  and 
spades,  were  building  castles  and  digging 
caves.  To  provide  seaside  facilities  on  the 
surface  of  the  sea  is  a  dainty  act  of  thought  - 
fulness  on  the  part  of  the  C.P.R. 

We  wanted  our  tea,  and  stewards  bade  us 
join  the  patient  throng  that  rilled  one  corridor. 
There  comes  an  end  to  all  ordeals,  and  at 
last  we  moved  with  that  living  river  into  the 
saloon  we  saw  before.  Opportunity  favoured 
our  selection  of  two  seats  at  a  side  table,  where 
the  sweet  sea  air  entered  from  an  open  port- 
hole ;  and  this  gave  us  the  greater  satisfaction 
since,  as  our  steward  informed  us,  places  taken 
by  chance  at  that  first  meal  were  held  by  right 
throughout  the  voyage.  It  spoke  well  for  an 
outlying  portion  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean  that  all 
the  ten  at  our  table  were  hungry — a  con- 


6  IN   THE   STEERAGE 

tingency  against  which  the  compilers  of  the 
menu  had  made  provision.  A  slab  of  corned 
beef — say  six  inches  by  four,  and  substantially 
thick — lay  before  each  of  us.  Pyramids  of 
hot  rolls  and  slices  of  bread  stood  within  reach, 
as  did  family  teapots  containing  the  evening 
beverage  at  full  strength,  and  already  blended 
with  sugar  and  milk.  Then  there  were  masses 
of  butter  and  plates  of  jam  and  marmalade, 
not  to  forget  pickles,  salt  and  mustard ;  so 
that,  the  immaculate  tablecloth  being  set  with 
an  ample  supply  of  clean,  if  homely,  cutlery, 
it  was  not  the  fault  of  the  C.P.R.  were  the 
appetite  of  any  one  unappeased.  For  my  own 
part,  I  did  not  know  that  I  approved  of 
corned  beef  until  I  found  myself  accepting  the 
steward's  offer  of  a  second  slice. 

Meanwhile  the  doors  of  the  saloon  had  been 
closed,  and  we  learnt  that  two -thirds  of  the 
passengers  had  been  temporarily  shut  out. 
When  we  all  had  finished  our  meal,  a  second 
contingent  filled  our  places,  and  after  that  still 
a  third  batch  came  in  to  tea. 

We  went  on  deck  and  gazed  at  the  encircling 
glory  of  blue  sky  and  bluer  sea,  varied  in  the 
south-east  by  a  distant  glimpse  of  the  Old 
Country  seen  in  a  purple  haze.  But  an  appal- 


IN   THE    STEERAGE  7 

ling  circumstance  that  disfigured  our  immediate 
foreground  affected  the  pleasure  we  took  in 
the  prospect.  To  my  mind,  the  Atlantic  was 
as  docile  as  an  ocean  well  could  be,  but  the 
affliction  of  sea-sickness  had  broken  out  in  a 
violent  and  infectious  form.  It  came  as  a 
crowning  calamity  to  men  and  women  whose 
nerves  were  racked  by  the  snapping  of  home 
ties.  Pictures  of  infinite  pathos  were  the 
mothers  who,  bending  to  the  care  of  suffering 
children,  were  themselves  overcome.  Strong 
men  fell  victims  with  the  rest,  and  many 
passengers,  fearful  of  succumbing  to  environ- 
ment, fled  to  their  unpolluted  cabins.  Thus 
of  the  hale  there  remained  too  few  to  succour 
all  who  lay  helpless  ;  and  the  stewards  and 
stewardesses  knew  no  rest  till  a  late  hour. 
That  night  I  lay  awake  listening  to  moanings 
and  the  plaintive  bleat  of  many  crying  children . 
And  all  this  while,  as  I  say,  the  sea  was 
calm.  Such  was  also  the  case  on  the  morrow, 
when  the  sun  shone  brightly  from  a  sky  of 
intermittent  clouds,  and  our  ship  ran  steadily 
on  a  sea  of  gentle  billows.  But  the  repellent 
trouble  was  still  visible  in  our  midst,  and 
many  were  the  vacant  and  vacated  seats  at 
breakfast. 


8  IN   THE    STEERAGE 

Not  yet  had  the  Empress  of  Britain  taken 
stock  of  her  human  cargo.  During  the  morn- 
ing an  order  came  that  we  must  all  assemble 
in  the  saloon — male  and  female,  old  and  young, 
well  and  ill.  In  the  dense  congregation  there 
was  tribulation. 

We  each  received  a  printed  form  to  fill  up 
in  testimony  to  age,  religion,  previous  em- 
ployment, and  intended  occupation.  A  com- 
bination of  illiteracy  and  sea -sickness  caused 
several  bewildered  girls  to  seek  the  assistance 
of  my  pencil  and  superior  scholarship. 

The  chief  purpose  of  massing  us  was  re- 
vealed when  at  last  we  streamed  slowly  along 
the  corridor  and  came  one  by  one  to  the  table 
where,  under  the  observation  of  several  officers, 
our  passage  tickets  were  surrendered  and  our 
individual  identity  established.  For  the 
majority,  who  intended  to  stay  in  Canada,  the 
routine  was  now  complete  ;  but  those  bound 
for  the  States  had  to  tarry  awhile  in  the 
smoking-room,  that  they  might  comply  with 
the  more  elaborate  statutory  requirements 
applying  in  their  case. 

Still  the  Atlantic  was  like  a  lake  on  the 
morning  of  our  third  day  at  sea  ;  and  already 
a  quieter  spirit  reigned  in  the  steerage.  As 


IN  THE   STEERAGE  9 

for  my  brother  and  myself,  we  awoke  in  a 
state  of  happiness  only  qualified  by  a  grievance 
against  time.  For  when,  because  of  the  salt 
air,  one  has  a  ten  o'clock  breakfast  appetite 
by  a  quarter  to  seven,  it  is  disappointing  to 
find  that,  because  of  changing  longitude,  the 
hour  of  eight  does  not  arrive  until  a  quarter 
to  nine. 

Carrie  was  astride  the  anchor  when — await- 
ing the  bell  that  would  ring  us  to  coffee  and 
porridge  and  broiled  fish — I  paced  the  upper 
deck.  On  the  previous  afternoon  I  first  noted 
that  sturdy  emigrant  in  serge.  She  had  been 
assisting  four  senior  infants  to  scoop  out 
corridors  in  a  moated  citadel ;  and  after  that, 
losing  interest  in  an  accomplished  task,  she  left 
the  sandpit.  It  was  her  method  of  departure 
that  drew  my  attention  to  this  particular  morsel 
in  the  moving  multitude.  Ignoring  the  open 
gateway,  Carrie  climbed  to  the  central  hori- 
zontal bar  in  the  substantial  .barricade  ;  then, 
heading  into  a  breach  in  the  lattice  panel,  she 
wriggled  her  little  fat  body  through  the  scanty 
aperture,  and  expertly  emerged,  upside  down, 
on  the  deck.  I  followed  that  thoughtful  three - 
year -old  up  the  companion ;  for  when  seasick 
mothers  lie  about  a  ship  in  limp  clusters,  it 


io  IN   THE    STEERAGE 

behoves  the  stranger  to  keep  an  eye  on  stray- 
ing children. 

Having  tested  the  capacity  of  crane  gear 
to  serve  as  a  trapeze,  Carrie  toddled  across  to 
a  sailor  with  black  ringlets  and  a  broom.  Her 
opening  remarks  were  unheeded  by  the  busy 
mariner,  whose  attention  was,  however, 
engaged  when,  on  looking  down,  he  found  the 
offended  young  lady  bellowing  at  his  feet. 
Such  was  the  beginning  of  a  friendship  which 
developed  into  constant  companionship,  at- 
tended by  little  acts  of  gallantry.  One 
morning,  when  he  thought  no  one  was 
looking,  I  saw  him  give  her  a  sugared 
biscuit . 

Grandma,  proud  of  her  own  immunity  from 
sea -sickness  on  that  her  maiden  voyage,  agreed 
it  was  only  anybody's  duty  to  look  after  the 
children  when  their  mother,  poor  dear,  couldn't 
do  a  thing  for  herself,  leave  alone  them.  In 
her  battered  bonnet  and  old  brown  shawl, 
Grandma  was  not  much  to  look  at,  but  the 
hours  of  rapt  attention  she  bestowed  on  the 
Atlantic  Ocean,  what  time  she  stood  against 
the  starboard  bulwarks,  impelled  me  to  make 
her  acquaintance.  All  in  a  flutter  on  being 
roused  from  her  reverie,  she  soon  gave  me 


IN   THE   STEERAGE  n 

the  leading  facts  about  her  son  George.  As 
a  baker's  assistant  in  London,  things  did  not 
go  well  with  him,  but  he  was  now  doing  nicely 
in  Canada — so  nicely,  indeed,  that,  not  content 
with  sending  for  his  wife  and  child,  he  had 
insisted  that  his  old  mother  must  also  come 
out  to  him.  "Did  ever  you  hear  the  like?" 
was  all  she  thought  about  it  at  first ;  but 
George  persisted,  and  sent  the  money  for  her 
passage,  so  at  last  she  made  up  her  mind  to 
go.  For  the  rest,  I  gathered  that  cronies  and 
neighbours  had  assembled  in  force  to  give 
Granny  a  fitting  send-off ;  for  it  does  not 
happen  every  day  in  her  part  of  Poplar  that 
an  old  soul  sets  forth  alone  to  traverse  the 
high  seas. 

Granny,  of  course,  represented  a  minority. 
The  majority  was  typified  by  the  young  mother 
from  North  London,  who,  when  I  saw  her 
standing  in  the  crowded  saloon,  was  trying  to 
fill  up  her  identification  card  while  she  battled 
against  sea-sickness,  nursed  her  baby,  and 
strove  to  comfort  the  weeping  child  who  clung 
to  her  skirts.  But  now  there  were  smiles  on 
the  young  wife's  face,  and  I  knew  she  was 
counting  the  hours  that  divided  her  from  a 
prosperous  young  farmer  husband  who,  when 


12  IN   THE   STEERAGE 

last  she  saw  him,  was  an  out-of-work  'bus 
conductor  of  Camden  Town. 

One  afternoon,  when  some  hundreds  of  us 
basked  on  deck  in  the  sunshine,  the  young 
wife  was  comparing  notes  with  an  older  mother 
in  a  tailor-made  dress — a  benignant  woman 
who  sat  in  the  midst  of  her  possessions,  which 
included  five  bright -looking  boys,  a  yellow  cat, 
and  a  teapot. 

There  were  many  lusty  children  in  the  cabins 
near  ours,  and  I  often  overheard  their  mothers 
talking  of  the  homes  of  penury  they  had  left 
behind,  and  of  the  homes  of  hope  they  were 
going  to.  Indeed,  the  Old  Country  did  not 
figure  to  advantage  in  the  general  run  of  con- 
versation, though,  of  course,  it  would  never 
have  done  for  our  Manchester  friend  to  give 
us  "  Home,  Sweet  Home."  Nor  was  he  likely 
to  make  that  mistake  with  his  concertina,,  since 
he  was  among  the  unseasonable  emigrants  who, 
thus  late  in  the  year,  were  going  out  with  no 
plans  more  settled  than,  by  taking  such  chances 
as  offered,  to  make  homes  for  the  families 
they  had  left  behind.  Unseasonable  emigrants 
I  call  them  because  this  was  the  month  of 
August,  and  a  better  time  for  their  arrival 
would  be  the  spring  and  early  summer,  when 


IN   THE   STEERAGE  13 

farm  lands  of  Central  Canada  offer  all  comers 
an  unbroken  spell  of  eight  months'  work. 

Tortured  by  the  memory  of  tear-stained 
faces,  such  men  are  the  heroes  of  the 
steerage.  And  the  young  mothers  are  the 
heroines. 

"  Ah  !  This  is  all  fine  material — very  fine 
material/'  was  the  complacent  exclamation  of 
Mr.  W.  D.  Scott,  Canada's  Superintendent  of 
Immigration,  who  happened  to  be  on  board. 
The  wave  of  his  hand  embraced  the  steerage 
generally,  but  his  eye  rested,  I  thought,  with 
special  favour  on  the  boys  playing  leapfrog, 
and  the  girls  who  were  skipping.  We  had 
other  distinguished  visitors  from  the  first  class, 
including  an  active,  elderly  gentleman  in  a 
dove-coloured  wide-awake.  Having  cross-ex- 
amined several  of  us,  he  delivered  an  enthu- 
siastic address,  summing  up  our  prospects 
favourably,  and  returning  an  emphatic  verdict 
in  favour  of  Canada ; — every  one  being  de- 
lighted to  learn  that  the  speaker  was  Mr. 
Justice  Grantham. 

After  our  day  of  sports,  the  dolls,  bears,  pipes, 
and  other  prizes  were  delivered  by  the  Bishop, 
of  London,  his  lordship  being  accompanied 
by  a  dainty  little  dot  of  a  girl  who,  standing 


14  IN   THE   STEERAGE 

over  the  hatchway  of  the  hold,  gazed  with 
wondering,  kind  eyes  at  all  the  rough  men 
before  her.  Archbishop  Bourne  was  another 
welcome  immigrant  from  the  West  End  of  the 
Empress  of  Britain. 

Having  looked  our  last  at  the  porpoises  and 
the  spouting  whales,  we  passed  into  the  great 
St.  Lawrence,  and  presently  witnessed  a  transi- 
tion from  the  glorious  blue  sky  of  Canada  to 
a  downpour  of  rain  that  was  pathetically  sug- 
gestive of  England. 

Vaccination  claimed  a  large  slice  of  the 
following  day.  After  our  women  and  children 
had  been  massed  in  the  saloon,  we  men  were 
marshalled  in  single  file  before  the  ship's 
doctor.  Most  of  us — those,  that  is,  upon  whom 
the  rite  had  at  some  time  been  performed— 
doffed  our  coats,  rolled  up  our  sleeves,  and 
received  cards  imprinted  with  the  word  "  Pro- 
tected," science  making  its  incisions  on  the 
reluctant  residue. 

Next  morning  our  painstaking  medical  man 
again  reviewed  us  one  by  one,  the  protracted 
business  being  an  outcome  of  the  discovery, 
among  the  second-class  passengers,  of  a  case 
of  chicken -ipox.  All  of  us  proving  innocent 
of  contagious  disease,  the  patient  was  sent  off 


IN   THE   STEERAGE  15 

in  the  pilot  boat,  and  down  came  the  yellow 
flag. 

Thus  when  at  last  we  arrived  at  our 
moorings,  and  Quebec  figured  through  the 
port-holes  as  a  blurred  nocturne  in  grey,  we 
of  the  steerage  were  not  untrained  in  the  art 
of  patiently  enduring  long  delays.  This  was 
just  as  well,  for,  huddled  together  in  a  chaos 
of  luggage,  we  were  required  to  tarry  on  board 
until  the  immense  cargo  of  mails  had  been 
discharged — an  operation  that  occupied  hours. 
And  when  at  last  we  crossed  the  gangway,  it 
was  to  exchange  one  prison  for  another. 

Not  that  the  great  Immigration  Hall  looked 
like  a  prison.  With  its  shops,  tea-room, 
information  bureau,  and  labour  exchanges,  the 
place  was  one  in  which  my  brother  and  I  at 
first  lingered  willingly,  and,  as  we  thought, 
voluntarily.  But  the  Immigration  Hall  lost 
its  charm  upon  the  discovery  that  we  could 
not  get  out  of  it.  An  hour  went  by  ere  we 
joined  the  dense  waiting  throng  at  the  end 
of  the  building — a  throng  that  melted  by 
degrees  as,  with  the  occasional  opening  of  a 
gate,  batches  of  our  party  were  received  within 
a  railed  enclosure.  Another  hour  went  by 
before  our  turn  came  to  enter. 


i6  IN   THE   STEERAGE 

The  rest  was  a  matter  of  comparatively  quick 
routine.  Being  instructed  to  remove  our  hats 
and  proceed  down  an  indicated  corridor,  we 
were  scrutinised  and  interrogated  by  four 
officials.  One  was  anxious  about  our  eyes. 
Another  was  bent  on  seeing  our  tickets.  The 
third  wished  to  learn  what  money  we  carried, 
where  we  were  going,  and  how  we  proposed 
to  gain  a  living.  But  the  fourth  handed  us 
tickets  to  stick  in  our  hats,  in  proof  that,  since 
we  answered  all  conditions  a  cautious  Govern- 
ment required  in  its  future  citizens,  we  were 
free  to  go  whithersoever  we  listed  in  the  great 
and  growing  Dominion  of  Canada. 


"OPEN  DOORS  GAVE  us  GLIMPSES  OF  DOMESTIC  SERENITY"  (PAGE  34) 

A    LIVING-ROOM    IN    THE    GOVERNMENT'S    FREE    HOTEL    FOR    IMMI- 
GRANTS AT  WINNIPEG. 


CHAPTER    II 

BY  TRAIN  TO  WINNIPEG 

A  street  on  wheels — Glimpses  of  French  Canada — A 
good  use  for  tree- stumps — Wistful  immigrants — 
Meals  in  the  restaurant-car — Sleeping  in  the  Pullman 
— Cheaper  opportunities  tested — Feeding  against  time 
— Facilities  of  the  tourist-ears — Trying  to  sleep  in  a 
sitting  posture — Sharing  the  immigrants'  quarters — 
Ingenious  and  excellent  berths — Using  one's  boots 
as  a  pillow — A  cooking  stove  free  to  all — Handicapped 
travellers — Why  Salvation  Army  immigrants  enjoy 
the  journey — Through  smiling  Southern  Ontario — 
Restless  breadwinners  —  A  beautiful  rocky  wilder- 
ness —  Sunset  on  Lake  Superior  —  Amid  flowers 
and  woodlands  —  Winnipeg's  free  hotel  —  At  the 
inquiry  office — 200,000  homesteads  to  choose  from — 
The  demand  for  farm  hands — Free  board  and  lodging 
with  substantial  wages — Married  couples  in  great 
demand — Work  and  good  pay  for  everybody — Our 
sojourn  at  the  Immigration  Hall — What  I  did  and 
saw  in  the  kitchen. 

THE  Canadian  train,  after  those  of  England,  is 
more  like  a  street — if  you  can  imagine  a  street 

The  Golden  Land.  ?  17 


i8         BY  TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG 

gliding  through  delightful  scenery  at  thirty-five 
miles  an  hour.  Going  for  a  walk,  you  get 
refreshing  gusts  of  air  in  open  corridors 
between  the  houses  ;  and  during  your  explora- 
tions, besides  passing  through  drawing-rooms, 
parlours,  and  lounges — each  with  its  cluster  of 
animated  travellers — you  will  see  kitchens  and 
sculleries  ;  a  stately  dining -hall  shimmering 
with  silver,  flowers,  and  glass  ;  a  stall  for  the 
sale  of  pea -nuts,  candy,  chewing  gum,  and 
other  things  one  can  do  without ;  a  post-office 
half  full  of  bulging  mail-bags  ;  and,  perhaps, 
a  barber's  shop. 

Glimpses  of  Canada,  gained  through  the 
windows,  please  and  surprise  by  their  homely, 
pastoral  character.  One  sees  fields  of  golden 
grain,  cows  browsing  on  rich  pasture,  rivers 
sparkling  in  dainty  woodlands,  and  farm  homes 
embowered  by  fruit-trees  and  flowers.  And 
all  that  landscape  is  alight  with  glorious  sun- 
shine. 

A  novelty  to  English  eyes,  and  an  evidence 
of  thrifty  ingenuity,  is  the  form  of  barrier 
erected  to  divide  field  from  field,  and  keep 
cattle  within  bounds.  Great  tree  stumps  and 
roots  had  to  be  torn  from  the  soil  ere  the 
farmer  could  till  it,  and  these  black  relics  of 


BY  TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG         19 

deforestation  have  been  intertwined  as  effective 
barricades  and  boundary  lines. 

The  train  pauses  at  strange  little  towns  where 
people  talk  French  and  smile. 

We  in  the  colonist-cars  are  a  solemn,  white- 
faced  crowd,  speaking  several  tongues ;  the 
seats  a  jumble  of  women,  canvas -covered 
bundles,  and  fretful  children.  It  is,  indeed, 
a  pathetic  picture — this  throng  of  newly-arrived 
immigrants,  many  so  uncouthly  and  inappro- 
priately clad,  and  bearing  marks  of  the  poverty 
from  which  they  have  emerged.  For  them  the 
past  holds  a  painful  memory  of  severed  ties, 
and  the  future  is  a  blank.  With  the  old  life 
ended  and  the  new  life  not  yet  begun,  they  are 
suspended  in  a  void  of  destiny  ;  and  it  humbles 
a  man  to  know  he  has  no  home  or  status  on 
the  earth. 

A  railway  journey  in  vast  Canada  is  apt 
to  be  a  protracted  affair,  embracing  several 
dawns  and  sunsets  ;  and  thus  one  has  to  eat 
and  sleep  on  the  train .  There  are  several  ways 
of  doing  both,  and,  during  my  three  months' 
stay  in  the  Dominion,  I  tried  nearly  all  of 
them. 

The  restaurant  car  is  a  marvel  of  travelling 
luxury.  It  has  left  me  with  fragrant  memories 


20         BY   TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG 

of  roast  turkey,  chicken  salad,  and  excellent 
coffee ;  the  unseen  chef  a  paragon,  the  visible 
stewards  scarcely  less  smart  than  naval  officers . 
•Then  there  is  the  Pullman  car,  of  which  J 
retain  grateful  impressions  of  a  soft  carpet 
under  foot,  a  handsome  curtain  to  ensure 
privacy,  and  a  soft  and  springy  bed  furnished 
with  the  whitest  of  sheets  and  the  warmest 
of  blankets .  On  emerging  in  the  morning  from 
your  cosy  quarters,  you  confront  the  friendly 
smile  and  dapper  grey  uniform  of  the  negro 
attendant,  who  has  already  blackened  your 
boots,  and  is  eager  to  brush  your  clothes. 
Indeed,  against  the  restaurant  and  Pullman 
cars  only  one  criticism  can  justly  be  levelled  : 
the  majority  of  mankind  cannot  afford  to  pur- 
chase sleep  and  food  at  the  rates  that  rule 
in  those  parts  of  the  train. 

If  you  are  clever  at  timetables,  you  may 
detect  a  tiny  dagger  against  the  names  of 
certain  stations  that  occur  about  four  hours 
apart.  At  those  stations  the  train  lingers  for 
ten  minutes — in  some  few  cases  for  twenty 
— .to  give  passengers  an  opportunity  to  alight 
and  nourish  their  bodies.  I  took  part  in  some 
spirited  competitive  scrambles.  As  the  train 
approached  the  station,  old  stagers  would  be 


'BY   TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG         21 

already  on  the  footplate,  poised  ready  to 
spring ;  and  that  gave  them  the  advantage  of 
several  seconds'  start.  I  am  not  a  good  runner, 
and — in  my  first  experience  of  this  sort  of  thing 
— the  refreshment -room  counter  was  crowded 
before  I  reached  it.  The  equivalent  of  five- 
pence  seemed  a  good  deal  for  a  cup  of  third- 
rate  tea ;  but  there  was  no  time  for  moralising 
over  the  different  value  of  commodities  in 
different  countries.  I  grabbed  a  small  meat 
pie,  another  ten-cent  piece  being  thereupon  de- 
manded. After  that — for  one  had  to  take  what 
one  could  get — I  found  myself  hastily  devour- 
ing a  sweet  cake  ;  which  brought  my  purchases 
to  a  total  of  thirty  cents,  or  is.  3d.  Before 
I  had  finished  the  cake,  several  passengers 
were  hurrying  to  the  door,  and  their  nervous- 
ness proved  contagious.  No  one  likes  to  be 
left  behind  ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  was 
re -seated  in  the  train  several  minutes  before 
it  started. 

Alighting  for  a  twenty  minutes'  stop,  some 
dozen  of  us  set  off  at  top  speed  across  railway 
sidings  and  a  stretch  of  waste  land,  down  a 
stony  embankment,  over  a  barbed-wire  fence, 
and  up  a  grassy  slope,  so  arriving  at  the 
restaurant  where  a  man  stood  loudly  ringing 


22         BY  TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG 

a  bell.  A  knowledge  of  Chinese  would  have 
served  me  in  that  crisis.  I  understood  the 
Oriental  waiter  to  say  that  a  dish  of  steak 
and  fried  potatoes  was  actually  ready.  He 
must  have  meant  to  explain  that  it  would  be 
ready  when  it  was  cooked.  By  the  time  that 
meal  was  served,  I  was  anxiously  wondering 
whether  my  watch  or  the  restaurant  clock  was 
the  more  reliable.  To  be  on  the  safe  side,  I 
returned  when  others  returned,  though,  as  it 
proved,  prematurely. 

The  advantage  I  derived  from  this  repast, 
and  from  others  swallowed  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances, was  out  of  proportion  to  the  cost. 
As  for  the  briefer  opportunities  one  enjoyed 
at  refreshment  counters.,  I  gained  some 
financial  advantage  by  acting  on  the  friendly 
wrinkle  of  a  fellow-passenger.  Instead  of  pay- 
ing separately  for  each  article  of  food,  national 
custom  allows  you,  on  depositing  a  compre- 
hensive fee  of  25  cents  (approximately  a 
shilling  in  our  currency),  to  eat  and  drink  all 
you  want,  or  rather,  all  you  can  get. 

However,  experience  convinced  me  that  the 
lightning  method  of  feeding,  besides  being 
generally  unsatisfactory,  is  open  to  the  crucial 
objection  of  inducing  indigestion. 


BY   TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG         23 

One  night  I  secured,  for  a  dollar  and  a 
half,  a  berth  in  a  tourist-car,  where  one  sleeps 
under  conditions  as  comfortable,  if  not  quite 
so  luxurious,  as  those  that  obtain  in  the  Pull- 
man. On  another  occasion  I  had  some  broken 
rest  in  company  with  the  numerous  first-class 
passengers  who,  indisposed  to  pay  for  a  bed, 
pass  the  night  in  their  handsomely  upholstered 
seats.  Unless  you  are  a  child  under  four  feet 
in  height,  with  a  mother  to  swathe  your  re- 
cumbent form  in  a  nice  warm  shawl,  that  sort 
of  thing  does  not  do.  I  wooed  slumber  in 
many  attitudes,  but  achieved  little  beyond  a 
cricked  neck. 

The  immigrants  are  much  better  off,  as  .1 
found  on  sharing  their  accommodation.  In  a 
Canadian  train  the  seats  are  set  at  right  angles 
to  a  central  avenue,  and  they  are  so  arranged 
that  one  pair  of  passengers  sits  facing  another 
pair.  At  night  a  transformation  takes  place, 
sliding  woodwork  being  drawn  forward  to 
bridge  the  space  hitherto  occupied  by  human 
knees.  Seats  for  four  thus  become  a  couch 
for  two.  Nor  are  the  other  two  passengers 
eliminated  from  the  scheme  of  comfort.  Over- 
head a  great  hinged  panel  has  been  shut  back 
against  the  side  of  the  car,  and  this  is  now 


24         BY  TRAIN   TO  WINNIPEG 

pulled  down  to  form  a  shelf  of  similar  size 
to  the  couch  beneath  it.  The  other  two 
passengers  climb  into  that  second  berth,  where 
they  can  lie  at  full  length — a  necessary  con- 
dition of  easy  repose.  True,  those  wooden 
beds  are  hard,  but  one  soon  gets  accustomed 
to  that .  I  used  my  overcoat  as  a  covering 
and  my  boots  as  a  pillow ;  though  the  latter 
temporary  expedient  (adopted  in  imitation  of 
a  fellow-traveller  whose  head,  apparently,  was 
made  of  sterner  stuff  than  mine)  did  not  prove 
to  my  liking.  For  the  rest,  I  slept  like  a 
top,  and  without  rolling  out  of  the  upper  berth 
I  monopolised. 

The  unbroken  journey  from  Quebec  to 
Winnipeg  involves  only  three  nights  in  the 
train ;  and  for  those  three  nights,  as  we 
have  seen,  repose  is  ensured  to  the  immigrants . 
But  low  fares  and  free  sleeping  facilities  are 
not  the  only  boons  vouchsafed  to  them.  Each 
colonist -car  contains  a  kitchen  range,  with  a 
quantity  of  fuel ;  the  privilege  of  boiling  water 
and  cooking  food,  together  with  the  responsi- 
bility for  keeping  in  the  fire,  being  common 
to  all  the  passengers.  And  since,  in  these 
cars  as  in  others,  there  are  lavatory  basins 
furnished  with  soap  and  towels,  and  a  separate 


BY  TRAIN   TO  WINNIPEG         25 

supply  of  iced  drinking  water,  the  domestic 
interests  of  new-comers  are,  it  would  appear, 
studied  to  an  extent  that  leaves  railway 
enterprise  no  further  scope  for  its  in- 
genuity. 

But  schemes  of  public  service  are  apt  to 
require,  on  the  part  of  the  individuals,  some 
measure  of  co-operation.  I  saw  numbers  of 
immigrants  debarred  from  boiling  a  kettle  only 
because  they  had  no  kettle  to  boil.  The  same 
remark  applies  to  tins  of  pork  and  beans. 
Heated  on  a  stove,  they  make  an  excellent 
meal ;  but  the  fire  burns  in  vain  if  you  have 
missed  your  opportunities  to  lay  in  such  pro- 
visions. And  for  most  immigrants  those 
opportunities  will  have  been  fleeting,  not  to 
mention  the  difficulty  of  shopping  under  strange 
conditions  and  in  an  unfamiliar  currency.  All 
was  well  with  those  who,  having  had  good 
advice  to  act  upon,  were  provided  with  hampers 
of  food  and  the  necessary  cooking  utensils. 
But  their  ill-equipped  companions  were  under- 
going experiences  which  would  doubtless  affect 
them,  for  many  a  long  year,  with  ugly  memories 
of  that  first  journey  in  Canada, 

When  travelling  in  a  strange  land,  it  is  wise 
to  have  the  aid  of  persons  familiar  with  its 


26         BY  TRAIN   TO  WINNIPEG 

conditions.  I  was  destined,  during  my  investi- 
gations in  Canada,  to  speak  with  many  persons 
who  had  recently  settled  in  the  country,  and 
I  found  that  the  railway  journey  had  been  to 
some  an  ordeal,  to  others  a  delight.  But 
whereas  the  former  had  travelled  on  an  inde- 
pendent footing,  the  latter  had  shared  the 
benefits  of  co-operative  organisation  ;  and  none 
testified  more  enthusiastically  to  the  pleasures 
of  the  trip  than  those  who  had  booked  through 
the  Salvation  Army. 

The  second  day  on  the  train  finds  one  in 
Southern  Ontario — a  region  of  pleasant  farm- 
yards, with  apple-trees  and  hay-stacks  and 
strutting  fowls.  Gazing  at  those  pretty  scenes, 
the  immigrants  forget  their  vague  anxieties. 
Several  times  I  saw  the  breadwinner  rise  from 
his  seat  and  stride  to  the  end  of  the  car,  to 
have  a  more  intimate  view  of  the  outer  world. 
In  the  aspect  of  the  country,  as  I  inferred, 
he  read  the  confirmation  of  his  hopes,  while 
subsequent  restless  pacing  seemed  to  mirror 
an  impatience  to  begin  work  in  the  land  of 
promise. 

One  sort  of  landscape  gave  place  in  time 
to  another.  Soon  the  train  was  racing,  hour 
after  hour,  through  an  unpopulated  country  of 


BY  TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG         27 

rock — of  rock  exposed  in  a  wild  disarray 
of  cliffs,  boulders,  and  splintered  stone — a 
beautiful,  undulating  higgledy-piggledy  of 
rocks,  rocks,  nothing  but  rocks.  They  have 
veins  of  delicate  hues,  in  key  with  the  tender 
tints  of  mosses  growing  on  their  sheltered  sur- 
faces. Yet  larger  vegetation  was  not  held 
entirely  at  bay.  Here  and  there  a  young  fir- 
tree  was  dispensing  with  soil  in  compliment 
to  the  climate. 

Presently  on  our  left  we  saw  Lake  Superior, 
first  in  an  environment  of  mauve  mountains, 
then  as  a  green  expanse  ending  against  the 
sky.  Cumulus  clouds,  glowing  high  overhead, 
shed  purple  shadows  on  that  inland  sea.  At 
a  new  angle  the  unscreened  sun  hung  low  in 
the  heavens,  enriching  the  water  with  an  avenue 
of  silver  dazzle.  We  caught  sight  of  sunny 
little  coast-towns  nestling  in  the  bays.  The 
sun  set  in  a  belt  of  gold  that  melted  into  the 
soft  colours  of  a  dove's  wing.  And  now  the 
water  was  blue,  save  where  it  tumbled  in  white 
breakers  on  the  clean  shingle  shore. 

Tree -tops  figured  as  inky  shapes  against 
a  cold  grey  sky,  and  already  lake  beacons  were 
showing  their  warm  points  of  warning,  when 
the  lamps  were  lighted  in  the  colonist -cars  and 


28         BY  TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG 

mothers  prepared  to  put  little  immigrants 
to  bed. 

Dawn  found  us  running  through  fairy  wood- 
lands that  were  carpeted  with  flowers — the  tent 
caterpillars  marking  the  landscape  with  their 
drapery  of  gossamer,  which  clung  like  wreaths 
of  smoke  to  many  a  tree.  Later  the  train  sped 
along  the  margin  of  lakes  that  were  small  only 
in  comparison  with  the  unbroken  horizon  of 
water  we  had  seen  overnight. 

Ontario  gave  place  to  Manitoba  ;  there  were 
preliminary  glimpses  of  the  wonderful  prairie  ; 
and  so  we  arrived  at  Winnipeg. 

In  that  city  of  noble  thoroughfares  and 
stately  buildings,  with  its  population  of 
135,000  persons,  my  brother  and  I  stayed  at 
two  hotels — one  in  which  we  were  accommo- 
dated for  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  day,  another 
in  which  no  charge  was  made. 

The  Immigration  Hall  at  Winnipeg  aston- 
ished and  delighted  us.  I  have  never  seen 
a  more  striking  illustration  of  paternal  govern- 
ment at  work.  In  that  institution  Canada  offers 
a  hearty,  hospitable  welcome  to  its  new  citizens . 

Incidentally,  as  I  have  hinted,  the  Immi- 
gration Hall  is  a  free  hotel.  But  it  is  much 
more  than  that.  For  whoever  heard  of  a  hotel 


BY  TRAIN   TO  WINNIPEG         29 

which,  in  addition  to  providing  for  your 
temporary  needs,  will  put  you  in  the  way  of  an 
income  and  a  career? 

On  the  ground  floor  is  a  spacious  apart- 
ment containing  maps,  samples  of  grain, 
stupendous  ledgers,  and  a  staff  of  obliging 
officials.  I  mingled  with  the  immigrants  at 
the  counter,  and  gained  some  insight  into  their 
affairs . 

Several  were  endeavouring  to  make  their 
selection  from  a  list  of  over  200,000  free 
homesteads.  One  wished  to  be  sure  that  his 
1 60  acres  would  be  near  a  school.  Another 
seemed  uncertain  whether  he  would  like  his 
half  square  mile  to  include  three  lakes  or  only 
two.  A  third  was  anxious  to  hit  upon  a 
quarter-section  that  should  contain  only  just 
as  much  timber  as  he  thought  he  should  need. 
Others  desired  to  locate  themselves  in  specific 
districts  where  they  had  friends. 

But  the  majority  of  applicants  sought,  not 
land,  but  employment.  A  stolid-looking  fellow, 
having  explained  that  he  had  tended  sheep  on 
the  Sussex  Downs,  asked  as  to  his  chance  of 
obtaining  steady  employment.  I  forget  how 
many  thousand  Canadian  farmers — according 
to  the  official's  way  of  putting  it — were  eager 


30         BY  TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG 

to  engage  that  stolid-looking  fellow  at  £7  a 
month,  plus  free  board  and  lodging.  This 
satisfactory  information  was,  however,  accom- 
panied by  one  qualification.  The  engagement 
would  probably  be  for  only  eight  months,  since 
farmers  were  indisposed  to  pay  a  hired  man 
during  the  period  when,  because  the  land  was 
frost-bound,  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do. 
Should  satisfactory  service  have  been  rendered, 
however,  there  was,  it  seemed,  a  probability 
that  the  free  board  and  lodging  would  be  con- 
tinued during  the  cold  months.  "  But  before 
that  time  comes,"  the  official  added,  "  you 
ought  to  have  saved  quite  a  bit  of  money. 
You've  brought  out  some  clothes,  I  suppose? 
That's  right,  then  you  won't  have  to  buy  any- 
thing except  tobacco — and  that's  cheap  enough 
in  this  country — and  perhaps  a  sheep-skin  coat 
for  the  winter." 

I  was  even  more  interested  in  a  couple  of 
middle-aged  men  who  arrived  together — one 
explaining  that,  after  being  in  the  building  line 
all  his  life,  he  meant  to  take  up  farm  work  ; 
the  other  announcing  the  same  intention,  and 
mentioning  that  he  at  least  knew  something 
about  horses,  having  been  a  cab-driver  for  ten 
years.  Both  were  assured  of  immediate  em- 


BY  TRAIN   TO  WINNIPEG         31 

ployment  on  a  farm — the  former  being  told 
that,  until  he  learnt  his  new  duties,  £2  a  month 
was  all  he  must  expect,  while  the  latter  was 
encouraged  to  look  for  a  commencing  salary 
of  £3  a  month,  the  employer  in  both  cases 
also  supplying  food  and  a  home. 

The  immigrants  were  not  demonstrative. 
They  spoke  with  a  sort  of  anxious  politeness, 
but  in  their  subdued  voices  there  rang,  I 
thought,  a  grateful  and  contented  note.  Before 
crossing  the  seas  they  must,  no  doubt,  have 
given  credence  to  the  statement  that  out  in 
distant  Canada  they  would  find  ample  openings 
for  their  industry  and  enterprise.  But  the 
human  mind  is  prone  to  pleasant  thrills  when 
an  abstract  belief  is  confirmed  by  concrete 
knowledge  ;  and  what  these  new-comers  now 
heard,  coming  on  the  top  of  what  they  had 
recently  seen,  may  well  have  revealed  the  actual 
Canada  as  even  more  favourable  to  their  hopes 
than  the  Canada  they  had  anticipated. 

The  applicants  who  fared  best  at  the  counter, 
as  it  seemed  to  me,  were  an  agricultural 
labourer  and  his  wife.  They  expressed  their 
readiness  to  take  a  joint  engagement  on  a  farm 
— she  in  domestic  service,  he  on  the  land.  It 
was  explained  that  they  could  be  immediately 


32         BY   TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG 

suited  with  a  situation  in  which,  on  a  full  twelve 
months'  basis,  they  would  have  their  own 
quarters,  with  all  the  cost  of  living  defrayed 
for  them,  and  the  opportunity  to  save  from 
£50  to  £80  per  annum  out  of  their  wages. 
Making  my  own  inquiries,  I  learnt  that  the 
Government  authorities,  there  and  at  other 
•Western  centres,  were  in  a  chronic  condition 
of  having  several  thousand  more  applications 
for  farm  labour  than  they  were  able  to  satisfy. 
In  particular  the  demand  for  married  couples 
was  ludicrously  in  excess  of  the  supply.  The 
possession  of  young  children,  it  seemed,  while 
not  a  recommendation,  was  by  no  means  a  dis- 
qualification for  employment. 

A  percentage  of  the  immigrants  were  indis- 
posed for  farm  work.  General  labourers  were 
told  of  the  constant  and  growing  demand  for 
men  on  railway  construction  throughout 
Western  Canada.  Then,  it  seemed,  there  were 
builders,  engineers,  painters  and  others  who 
were  bent  on  working1  at  their  trades  ;  and 
for  these  also  the  Immigration  Hall  had  no 
difficulty  in  finding  satisfactory  opportunities. 

"  You  arrived  last  Wednesday  1  "  I  over- 
heard an  official  say  to  one  immigrant ;  "  then 
where  are  you  and  your  family  stopping?  " 


BY   TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG         33 

"  At  -  — 's  Hotel,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  it's 
pretty  expensive  for  so  many.  That's  one 
reason  why  I'm  anxious  to  get  work  as  soon 
as  possible."  "  But  why  don't  you  come 
here  ?  "  "  Come  here  ?  "  echoed  the  astonished 
visitor;  and  explanations  proved  necessary. 
Then  away  he  joyfully  hurried  to  fetch  his 
family  and  belongings. 

I  was  destined  to  meet,  in  the  streets  of 
Winnipeg,  other  new-comers  who,  little  dream- 
ing of  the  opportunities  afforded  by  the  Immi- 
gration Hall,  had  deliberately  held  aloof  from 
it.  After  undergoing  compulsory  detention, 
and  a  searching  inquisition,  in  the  Immigration 
Hall  at  Quebec,  they  were  indisposed  to  visit 
another  institution  of  the  same  name. 

There  certainly  seems  room  for  descriptive 
variety  in  the  nomenclature  of  these  Govern- 
ment institutions.  At  the  port  of  landing, 
where  the  detection  of  undesirables  necessarily 
involves  a  rigorous  routine,  some  such  name 
as  "  Immigrants'  Investigation  Hall  "  would 
apply.  But  the  remarkable  institution  at 
Winnipeg  deserves  to  have  its  value  adver- 
tised as,  say,  "  Immigrants'  Free  Lodging 
House  and  Information  Bureau." 

Arriving  with  our  luggage,  my  brother  and 

The  Golden  Land.  A 


34         BY   TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG 

I  rendered  assistance  in  conveying  it  down- 
stairs to  the  baggage-room — a  spacious  apart- 
ment where  hundreds  of  trunks  and  boxes  were 
stored.  It  was  explained  that  many  departing 
immigrants  found  it  convenient  to  leave  some 
of  their  effects  behind  them,  the  Government 
making  no  charge  for  safeguarding  such 
property  and  for  afterwards  forwarding  it  to 
the  notified  address.  Then  we  were  taken  up 
in  a  lift  to  the  second  story,  and  ushered  to 
our  room,  which  proved  large,  light,  lofty,  and 
scrupulously  clean. 

It  was  furnished  with  a  writing-table,  two 
chairs,  and  a  broom,  in  addition  to  certain 
strange  iron  mechanism  clinging  against  the 
walls.  The  attendant  showed  us  how,  on  the 
release  of  a  clutch,  each  apparatus  unfolded 
as  a  pair  of  bunks  ;  whereupon  we  appreciated 
the  forethought  which  had  so  equipped  an 
apartment  that,  when  serving  as  a  parlour  by 
day,  it  was  redeemed  from  the  aspect  it  wore 
as  a  bedroom  by  night.  Blankets  were  neatly 
folded  on  the  flock  mattress  that  reposed  upon 
springs . 

Exploring  the  corridor,  we  found  our  way 
to.  lavatories  and  bathrooms  that  shone  with 
cleanliness.  Open  doorways  gave  us  glimpses 


"A  GROUP  OF   BUSTLING   HOUSEWIVES"   (PAGE  35).      THE   KITCHEN   OF 
THE  WINNIPEG  IMMIGRATION   HALL. 


BY   TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG         35 

of  domestic  serenity — women  busy  with  their 
needles,  men  writing  letters  or  reading,  the 
little  ones  at  play  on  the  floor. 

While  making  us  free  of  all  the  amenities 
of  a  home,  the  Government  of  Canada  imposed 
a  wise  limit  to  its  hospitality.  It  was  con- 
cerned to  foster  self-reliance,  and  to  discourage 
a  slothful  spirit,  in  its  guests.  The  presence 
of  that  broom  in  our  room  was  a  hint  that  we 
were  expected  to  keep  the  floor  tidy.  Then, 
too,  we  all  had  to  cater  for  ourselves.  My 
brother  did  the  shopping,  and  I  undertook  the 
cooking.  It  was  a  new  experience  to  find 
myself  in  a  large  kitchen  as  the  only  man 
among  a  group  of  bustling  housewives.  One 
was  dissecting  a  rabbit,  another  was  slicing 
the  component  parts  of  a  stew,  a  third  was 
rolling  pastry.  My  own  humble  endeavours 
were  directed  to  boiling  a  kettle  of  water  and 
making  a  pot  of  tea — a  task  in  which  those 
ladies  afforded  me  the  assistance  of  their  larger 
experience .  Later,  on  returning  to  the  kitchen, 
I  deposited  our  tea-leaves  in  the  receptacle 
for  refuse,  and  washed  up  the  utensils  we  had 
used. 

I  went  downstairs  to  the  well-equipped 
laundry  and  drying-room,  where  a  number  of 


36          BY   TRAIN   TO   WINNIPEG 

women  immigrants,  up  to  their  elbows  in  lather, 
were  rejoicing  in  the  opportunity  of  getting  a 
lot  of  washing  done  at  nothing  but  the  cost 
of  the  soap.  Being  wholly  untrained  in  the 
dexterities  of  the  washtub,  I  abstained  from 
affording  those  experts  a  spectacle  of  masculine 
ineptitude. 

I  have  often  stayed  in  hotels  of  greater 
luxury  and  magnificence,  but  never  in  a 
cleaner  or  more  interesting  one.  Its  conditions 
suggest  a  middle-class  home  run  on  commu- 
nistic lines. 


CHAPTER    III 

WHEAT  AND  WEALTH 

Jobs  I  was  offered — Labour  conditions  reversed ;  the 
supplicant  employer — Monte  Cristos  of  Manitoba — 
In  the  Dauphin  Valley — Beauties  of  the  landscape — 
Society  on  the  prairie — The  ubiquitous  telephone — 
Rich  black  soil — Quick  methods  of  amassing  fortunes 
— Typical  experiences  of  Donald — Why  Canadian 
farming  pays — Its  simple  methods  explained — How 
to  gain  capital  and  experience — Wealthy  men  in 
shabby  clothes — From  penniless  immigrant  to  pros- 
perous farmer — Initial  years  of  toil  and  stress — 
The  price  of  horses,  oxen,  and  cows — Necessary 
machines,  and  what  they  cost — Crops  and  their 
value — Free  homesteads  v.  cultivated  land — A  warn- 
ing to  the  immigrant  with  capital — The  story  of 
Anthony — Old  King  Cole. 

"  LOOKING  for  a  jarb  ?  "  shouted  the  bronzed 
man  in  the  blue  shirt  and  great  floppy  wide- 
awake ;  and,  as  the  buggy  drew  up,  I  noticed 
that  the  woman's  face  reflected  her  husband's 
eagerness.  Of  course  the  people  of  Canada 

37 


38  WHEAT  AND   WEALTH 

are  accustomed  to  good  fortune,  abundant  and 
continuous  ;  but  that  optimistic  couple  were, 
I  thought,  rather  presuming  on  the  indulgence 
of  Providence  when,  catching  sight  of  my 
squatting  figure  by  the  roadside,  they  dared  to 
hope  that,  incidental  to  a  drive  into  town  for 
groceries,  they  had  happened  upon  the  valuable 
and  precious  thing — Labour. 

I  was  not  looking  for  a  job.  I  was  not 
prepared  to  ride  off  with  those  good  folk  to 
their  quarter-section,  and  lend  a  hand  with 
their  harvest  and  horses,  with  their  cows  and 
poultry,  for  ten  or  twelve  shillings  a  day  and 
all  found,  A  curt  "  No  "  would  have  been  in 
accordance,  I  think,  with  Canadian  usage.  But 
my  negative  reply  was  softened  with  polite  ex- 
pressions of  regret.  The  fact  is,  I  had  not 
yet  adapted  myself  to  a  remarkable  environ- 
ment, and  offers  of  employment  continued  to 
flatter  my  self-esteem.  I  was  still  far  from 
that  state  of  independence  which  enables  a 
man  to  tell  his  master  exactly  what  he  thinks 
of  him,  and  which  prompts  a  hotel  waitress, 
in  passing  from  the  dining-room,  to  kick  open 
the  door  with  her  well-shod  foot. 

Social  conditions  in  Canada  are,  in  truth, 
a  delightful  burlesque  of  those  in  England. 


WHEAT   AND   WEALTH  39 

In  my  native  land  one  has  to  plead  and  wait 
and  scheme  for  opportunities  to  earn  small 
wages.  But  I  had  not  been  an  hour  on 
Canadian  soil  before  there  came  a  tempting 
financial  offer  for  my  services  as  a  house 
decorator.  And  this  was  but  the  first  of  many 
unsought  opportunities  to  engage  in  remuner- 
ative toil.  True,  no  one  stopped  me  in  the 
street  and  offered  to  hire  me  as  a  journalist  or 
author  ;  but  at  any  moment  I  could  have  got 
my  three  dollars  a  day  if  only,  in  response  to 
eager  solicitation,  I  would  turn  over  a  new 
leaf  and  become  a  railroad  navvy  or  farm 
hand. 

As  a  matter  of  fact — though  I  did  not  delay 
the  buggy  for  prolonged  explanations — I 
already  had  a  job.  Nay,  I  was  hard  at  work 
when  that  settler  and  his  wife  found  me,  alone 
and  still,  seated  on  a  recumbent  telephone  pole 
with  my  hands  in  my  trouser  pockets,  a 
writing  pad  lying  at  my  feet.  The  business 
on  hand  was  to  think  out  a  way  of  setting  forth 
a  simple  matter  concerning  black  soil  and 
bright  gold. 

Perhaps  I  may  best  commence  my  modern 
story  of  Monte  Cristo  by  saying  what  the  land- 
scape looked  like.  The  road  was  an  ebony 


40  WHEAT   AND   WEALTH 

streak,  and  elsewhere  the  eye  roamed  over  a 
sea  of  growing,  glowing  grain.  And  note 
that,  though  this  part  .of  the  Dauphin 
Valley  was  a  dead  level,  I  could  see  eight 
human  homes,  each  upon  its  own  quarter  - 
section,  which,  as  I  have  already  hinted,  is 
an  exact  square,  measuring  half  a  mile  on 
every  side,  and  embracing  one  hundred  and 
sixty  acres .  But  the  view  was  not  an  unbroken 
monotony  of  golden  crops .  White  poplars  and 
luxuriant  undergrowth  formed  the  near  horizon 
beyond  four  quarter-sections  on  my  right. 
Maple  saplings  and  willow  formed  the  nearer 
horizon  across  two  quarter-sections  on  my  left. 
And  those  verdant  lines,  as  earlier  exploration 
had  taught  me,  marked  the  course  of  shallow 
rivers  that  wound,  full  of  fishes,  through  fairy 
glens  where  hedges  were  on  fire  with  clusters 
of  cranberries. 

But  I  want  to  insist  on  those  eight  visible 
dwellings,  which  so  eloquently  contradicted  the 
general  belief  that  farm  life  in  Canada  is  lonely. 
To  live  within  sight  of  seven  neighbours  is 
no  very  irksome  state  of  isolation.  Moreover, 
other  conditions  make  for  sociability  on  the 
prairies  of  Manitoba.  Black  roads  bordering 
the  sections  extend  like  a  net  all  over  the 


WHEAT  AND   WEALTH  41 

country — arched  tracks  of  uncored  earth, 
drained  by  ploughed  ditches  ;  and  since  every 
settler  has  his  broad-axled  rig  and  team  of 
trotting  ponies,  mileage  out  there  has  not  much 
significance.  Within  sight  as  I  sat  writing  were 
two  buggies  and  one  swift  democrat,  not  to 
forget  a  picturesque  wagon  drawn  by  a  pair 
of  oxen.  Then  there  was  that  useful  insti- 
tution which,  expensive  and  occasional  in  rural 
districts  of  old  England,  is  cheap  and 
ubiquitous  in  settled  areas  of  young  Canada. 
The  decision  to  instal  the  telephone  throughout 
those  cultivated  prairies  was  a  stroke  of  in- 
spired statesmanship.  One  day  I  drove  fifteen 
miles  from  the  town  of  Dauphin,  and  only 
towards  the  end  of  that  journey,  where  much 
of  the  land  was  still  unbroken,  did  I  find  poles 
without  wires — an  omission  that  was  being 
remedied  by  operators  encamped  in  tents  by 
the  roadside.  A  comprehensive  subscription 
of  £4  a  year  enables  the  settler,  without  leaving 
home,  to  order  provisions  from  town,  summon 
the  doctor  when  baby  is  ill,  and  chat  at  large 
with  his  neighbours. 

My  friend  Donald,  of  those  parts,  maintains 
that  the  black  ground  is  a  black  clay.  I  took 
a  spade  and  had  a  dig  at  it,  seeking  evidence 


42  WHEAT   AND   WEALTH 

in  support  of  my  rival  theory  that  centuries 
of  vegetable  and  animal  decay,  assisted  in 
recent  decades  by  prairie  fires,  have  accumu- 
lated that  deposit  of  rich  soil.  Nine  inches 
down  in  that  treasury  of  nitrogen,  phosphates, 
and  potash,  rendered  friable  by  an  admixture 
of  sand,  I  found  the  crumbling  form  of  a  pre- 
historic tree  branch  that  now  was  nothing  but 
humus.  Whatever  the  precise  truth  of  the 
matter,  however,  it  is  a  fact  that,  because  of 
this  black  soil,  Donald  is  now  worth  over  a 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  or,  as  we  should  say, 
£20,000.  And  Donald  arrived  in  the  district 
ten  years  ago  with  nothing  but  a  gold  watch, 
a  young  family,  and  a  Scotchman's  determin- 
ation . 

He  drove  me  to  several  of  his  quarter- 
sections,  and  I  probed  the  secrets  of  his  pros- 
perity. 

Canadian  wheat  farming  is  British  farming 
simplified.  There  is  no  landlord  to  exact  an 
increasing  rent,  no  Church  to  insist  on  its  tithe, 
no  arduous  distribution  of  farmyard  manure 
and  costly  artificials,  and  no  warring  against 
persistent  weeds.  Though  an  occasional  extra 
hand  is  convenient  and  usual,  one  man  can 
farm  a  quarter-section. 


WHEAT  AND   WEALTH  43 

Ploughing  is  the  long  job,  and,  first  and 
last,  it  may  occupy  a  month.  "  But,"  as 
Donald  remarked,  "  a  man  must  be  doing 
something,  and  driving  a  team  to  and  fro  is 
not  a  bad  way  of  passing  the  time."  Where- 
upon he  showed  me  one  of  his  two -furrow 
ploughs,  with  its  comfortable  seat  for  the 
driver.  There  are  three  remaining  processes — 
harrowing,  seeding,  and  reaping — and  each  can 
be  accomplished  at  the  pace  of  twenty-five 
acres  a  day.  As  for  the  threshing,  our  farmer 
is  only  a  looker-on  when  the  machine  is 
doing  that,  the  charge  being  3d.  a  bushel. 
Nothing  then  remains  but  for  him  to  drive 
his  wagon -loads  of  wheat  to  the  nearest 
elevator,  where  he  will  receive  prompt 
payment  at  the  rate  of  about  90  cents  per 
bushel.  As  the  Dauphin  Valley  average  is 
25  bushels  per  acre,  it  is  a  mere  matter  of 
arithmetic  that,  where  80  acres  are  under  culti- 
vation and  all  goes  well,  the  crop  fetches  £360 
— a  satisfactory  return  from  a  freehold  that 
may  have  cost  anything  from  £2  to  £800. 
And  note  that  this  figure  takes  no  account  of 
the  yield  from  cows,  poultry,  and  other  live 
stock  reared,  practically  without  cost,  on  the 
pasture  acreage. 


44  WHEAT  AND   WEALTH 

Nor  have  I  digressed  from  the  story  of 
Donald.  It  is  wrapped  up  in  that  other  story 
of  the  men  who  farm  their  own  quarter- 
sections.  But  I  began  this  last  story  at  the 
second  chapter. 

In  the  beginning,  lacking  money  and  know- 
ledge, the  immigrant  must  hire  himself  to  an 
established  settler.  Donald  has  a  quick  eye 
for  promising  new-comers,  whom  he  plants  on 
his  quarter-sections  with  ample  free  food  for 
the  family,  and  an  annual  wage  of  300  dollars, 
which  the  thrifty  can  save  intact.  He  assists 
them  through  the  novice  stage  by  personal 
guidance  and  example  ;  and  the  telephone  is 
available  for  daily  directions.  After  a  year, 
or  perhaps  two,  the  farm  hand  has  enough 
experience  and  capital  to  make  a  beginning  on 
his  own  land. 

Meanwhile  Donald  has  been  reaping  many, 
harvests,  and  as  he  fills  in  odd  moments  by 
selling  land,  buying  horses,  and  running  a  store, 
his  wealth  surprises  nobody.  Moreover,  he 
is  surrounded  by  equally  prosperous  neigh- 
bours, who  wear  slouch  hats  and  shabby 
overalls,  looking  to  English  eyes  like  men  open 
to  earn  twopence  by  holding  a  horse.  That 
is  the  way  of  things  out  in  the  West.  So  far 


WHEAT   AND   WEALTH  45 

as  dress  has  any  significance,  the  sartorial  clues 
have  a  reversed  significance.  The  unshaven 
man  with  no  collar  and  a  patch  on  his  trousers 
is  pretty  sure  to  count  his  fortune  in  six 
figures . 

It  was  a  fascinating  theme — the  automatic 
transformation  of  penniless  immigrants  into 
prosperous  farmers  ;  and  I  encouraged  Donald 
to  go  into  details. 

"  Let  us,"  I  said,  '*  take  the  case  of  a  man 
who,  having  worked  two  seasons  for  you,  has 
saved  £100.  Could  he  take  up  a  home- 
stead?" 

"  Sure,"  replied  Donald,  "  if  he  is  steady  and 
a  good  worker.  We  are  all  ready  to  give  that 
sort  a  little  help — yes,  and  credit,  too.  All  he 
would  have  to  buy  at  first  would  be  three  oxen, 
costing  about  £50,  a  plough  (£15)  and  a  disc 
harrow  (£7).  He  could,  if  he  liked,  pay  by 
instalments  for  the  plough  and  harrow,  and 
later  on  for  fencing  wire.  Of  course  he  would 
build  his  own  shack  and  stable,  the  only  ex- 
pense being  a  pound  or  so  for  tools  and  nails 
and  getting  the  timber  sawn.  Then  there  is 
the  cost  of  living.  They  mostly  find  it  worth 
while  to  get  a  few  fowls  and  a  cow.  You  can 
buy  a  fine  three-year  cow,  after  her  first  calf, 


46  WHEAT  AND   WEALTH 

for  £5  or  £6 — in  fact,  the  poorest  people  about 
here  keep  three  or  four  cows.  It  means  a 
lot  of  hard  work  to  break  the  land,  and  three 
months'  residence  on  the  quarter-section  is,  of 
course,  compulsory.  But  the  right  sort  of  man 
would  still  find  time  to  work  for  his  neigh- 
bours and  earn  a  bit  of  money  that  way." 

"  What  would  he  have  to  buy  in  the  second 
year?  "  I  asked. 

"  The  chief  thing  would  be  seed.  For  he 
could  make  do  with  his  oxen  for  ploughing. 
If  he  worked  hard  the  first  year,  he  ought 
to  have  forty  acres  ready.  He  must  make 
his  first  payment  for  a  seeder,  which  costs 
£16.  Sowing  is  done  from  the  i5th  to  the 
3oth  of  April — sometimes  you  can  go  into  May. 
By  the  middle  of  August  he  must  get  a  binder 
(£30);  and  his  first  crop  ought  to  be  a 
thousand  bushels,  which  would  bring  him  in 
£160,  less  £12  for  threshing.  Meanwhile  he 
will  have  been  breaking  more  land,  to  be  ready 
for  a  larger  acreage  in  the  third  year.  So 
now  he  must  sell  his  oxen,  which  will  be  too 
slow  for  the  ground  he  has  to  cover ;  and 
when  the  weather  opens  he  must  buy  three 
horses.  They  will  cost  about  £90;  but  it's 
no  use  shirking  that  expense— you  must  have 


WHEAT   AND   WEALTH  47 

proper  power.  He  has  got  to  get  through 
somehow  until  harvest,  when  he  will  receive 
about  £300.  From  that  time,  you  may  say, 
he  has  turned  the  corner,  for  the  debts  on 
machinery  will  soon  be  paid  off,  and  every 
year  will  see  an  increase  in  his  acreage  and 
live  stock.  Once  he  has  got  his  quarter-section 
fairly  going — well,  he  can  buy  more  land,  start 
a  business,  and  go  ahead  as  much  as  he  likes, 
the  same  as  anybody  else." 

"  And  his  homestead  will  have  acquired  a 
substantial  value?"  I  suggested. 

"It  will  be  worth,"  Donald  explained, 
"  anything  from  £800  upwards,  according  to 
the  sort  of  house  on  it.  And  do  you  know," 
he  added,  "  that  an  unbroken  quarter-section 
which  costs  nothing  is  a  much  dearer  invest- 
ment than  a  quarter-section  under  cultivation 
that  costs  £800?  In  the  one  case  you  have 
to  face  the  early  years  of  development,  the 
terrible  hard  work,  and  the  small  returns  ;  in 
the  other  case  you  get  full  harvests  from  the 
start — I  have  even  known  the  first  year's  crop 
to  cover  the  total  cost  of  the  land.  My  advice 
even  to  the  man  who  arrives  with  only  a  few 
hundred  pounds  is — buy ;  don't  take  up  a  free 
homestead." 


48  WHEAT   AND   WEALTH 

"  But,"  I  objected,  "  a  few  hundred  pounds 
won't  buy  a  property  worth  £800." 

'  Yes,  it  will,"  contradicted  Donald.  '  The 
bulk  of  the  purchase -money  can  stand  over 
for  payment  by  annual  instalments.  But," 
he  added,  "  the  man  who  comes  with  capital, 
be  it  much  or  little,  is  at  one  serious  disad- 
vantage compared  with  the  man  who  arrives 
with  nothing.  He  is  almost  sure  to  start  farm- 
ing before  he  understands  Canadian  methods, 
with  the  result  that  he  frequently  buys  his  ex- 
perience rather  dearly.  The  ideal  thing  is  for 
a  man  to  arrive  with  capital,  but  to  put  it 
away  in  the  bank,  forget  he  has  it,  and  hire 
himself  out  for  a  season.  That  will  give  him 
the  necessary  knowledge  for  afterwards  turn- 
ing his  capital  to  the  best  account.  Again 
and  again  I  have  urged  people  to  do  that— 
but  it  is  no  good ;  in  nearly  every  instance 
they  will  go  their  own  way." 

The  case  of  Anthony,  who  also  drove  me 
out  to  his  properties,  is  much  like  the  case  of 
Donald,  save  that  Anthony,  being  a  Galician, 
employs  Galician  immigrants  on  his  quarter- 
sections.  Nor,  to  judge  by  what  I  saw,  could 
a  man  desire  more  industrious,  capable,  and 
picturesque  assistants . 


I 


"NOTHING  THEN  REMAINS  BUT  FOR  HIM  TO  DRIVE  HIS  WAGON-LOADS 
OF  WHEAT  TO  THE  NEAREST  ELEVATOR"  (PAGE  43).  THESH 
USEFUL,  IF  UNPICTURESQUE,  STRUCTURES  ARE  CONSPICUOUS  LAND- 
MARKS IN  ALL  SETTLED  DISTRICTS  OF  THE  PRAIRIE  PROVINCES. 


WHEAT  AND  WEALTH  49 

Anthony's  fellow-countrymen  arrive,  as  he 
arrived,  poor.  After  a  few  years  of  patient, 
persistent  toil,  they  become,  as  he  has  become, 
rich.  It  does  not  surprise  me  that  in  the  town 
of  Dauphin  there  are  three  banks  to  one 
grocery  store. 

I  fijid  one  fault  with  the  Canadian  careers 
of  Donald  and  Anthony.  Having  amassed  so 
much  substance,  they  should,  it  seems  to  me, 
give  themselves  a  little  leisure  to  enjoy  it.  But 
I  fear  they  are  so  enslaved  by  the  idea  of 
becoming  richer  and  still  richer  that  they  will 
persist  in  that  pursuit  to  the  end. 

Of  another  philosophy  is  a  fine  old  English 
gentleman  who  owns  two  adjoining  quarter- 
sections  in  that  district.  He  has  a  large,  well- 
appointed  house,  and  his  abundant  crops,  pro- 
duced by  a  succession  of  salaried  workers,  yield 
the  means  to  maintain  his  family  in  luxury. 
It  is  his  gleeful  boast  that,  while  enjoying  all 
the  good  things  of  this  life,  he  never  does 
a  stroke  of  work.  His  answer  to  all  criticism 
is  a  great  jolly  laugh  that  echoes  across  the 
prairie.  They  call  him  Old  King  Cole. 


The  Golden  Land, 


CHARTER  IV 

BARNARDO   BOYS   AND  A   BARONET'S  SON 

The  titled"  lady,  her  son  and  the  pig-sty — Music  and 
literature  on  the  prairie — A  garden  of  perfumed 
prettiness — Jim  recalls  his  past — Petty  larceny  and 
the  training-ship — Assaulting  a  bully  at  sea — Home- 
less in  London — A  visit  to  Stepney  Causeway — Sent 
out  to  Canada — From  farm  boy  to  landowner — 
The  fruits  of  seven  years'  toil — My  visit  to  Mr.  Green 
— A  workhouse  boy  grown  prosperous — Wheat  on 
low  land  :  expensive  experience — A  Barnardo  couple 
— Their  children  and  the  skunk — A  housewife's  phil- 
osophy— How  to  live  free  of  cost — The  way  to  make 
fowls  pay — Exchanging  eggs  and  butter  for  gro- 
ceries and  clothes — Why  the  Fishers  have  no  butcher's 
bill — Co-operative  production  and  distribution :  the 
working  of  a  Beef  Ring  explained — The  Canadian 
winter :  its  delights  and  drawbacks — Concerning 
frost-bites — Children  on  horseback — Loneliness  and 
the  telephone — The  far-away  poverty — "Tell  them 
to  come." 

RUSSELL'S  main  streets  are  not  aesthetic,  the 

eye  taking  small  delight  in  wooden  sidewalks, 

50 


BARNARDO   BOYS  51 

roadways  of  mud,  and  flat  housefronts  of 
painted  timber  or  galvanised  metal  sheeting. 
But  on  the  outskirts  of  this  new  little  town  I 
found  a  small  mansion  standing  amid  its  lawns 
and  cultivated  trees.  And  this  is  the  home  of 
Burroughs — a  fine  fellow  with  a  past. 

We  talked  of  Canada,  he  and  I,  as  we  walked 
in  the  glow  of  the  sunset,  which  put  a  warm 
splendour  on  young  maples  already  touched 
with  autumn  gold.  We  talked  of  Canada  as 
the  land  of  equal  opportunities  for  all.  We 
talked  of  Canada  as  the  country  where  privi- 
lege has  no  foothold,  and  wealth  is  only  to 
be  won  by  work.  And  presently  Burroughs' 
voice  sank  to  a  deeper  note  as  his  thoughts 
stretched  back  over  an  interval  of  two-and- 
twenty  years. 

There  was  a  wise  English  lady  of  title  who 
was  anxious  about  her  son's  future.  So  she 
took  him  from  Eton  and  sent  him  to  Canada. 
Of  what  befel  that  lad  of  nineteen,  now  the 
middle-aged  father  of  a  family,  I  had  some 
particulars  from  his  own  lips. 

"  Until  then,"  Burroughs  gravely  recalled, 
"  I  had  been  surrounded  by  servants.  I  even 
had  a  man  to  fasten  my  cravat  for  me.  So 
you  can  understand  that  Canadian  life  felt 


52  BARNARDO   BOYS 

strange  at  first.  I  was  placed  with  a  farmer 
who  would  stand  no  nonsense.  My  first  job 
was  to  clean  out  a  pig-sty  that  ought  to  have 
been  cleaned  out  six  months  before.  My 
mother  allowed  me  a  little  pocket-money  for 
a  few  weeks  ;  after  that,  I  had  to  make  do  with 
my  wages.  Fortunately,  the  hard  work  gave 
me  an  appetite  for  the  coarse  food.  Of  an 
evening  the  farmer  would  lecture  me  on  how 
to  behave.  His  wife  was  much  put  out  about 
my  pyjamas.  She  said  she  wasn't  going  to 
wash  things  like  that.  But  they  were  a  good 
old  couple,  and  I  often  go  and  see  them  now, 
for  they  are  still  alive." 

Burroughs  soon  turned  farmer  on  his  own 
account,  and  did  well ;  and  now  he  is  a  pros- 
perous merchant . 

On  my  second  day  at  Russell  he  took 
me  for  a  ride  on  his  motor-car,  for  he  was 
bent  on  introducing  me  to  his  friend  Jim 
Gray. 

We  had  a  fine  spin  across  the  beautiful 
prairie,  where  we  startled  gophers  and  wild- 
fowl amid  the  tangle  of  golden-rod  and  bronzed 
foliage,  and  where,  in  the  cultivated  areas, 
farmers  were  busy  with  their  binders. 

"  And   you   are   quite   contented  with  your 


AND   A   BARONET'S    SON  53 

life  out  here  ?  "  I  found  an  opportunity  to 
ask — our  acquaintance  having  ripened  to  the 
stage  that  allows  of  the  personal  note .  '  You 
never  pine  for  the  amenities  of  city  life?  You 
do  not  repent  your  self -banishment  from  the 
social  centre — from  the  wider  opportunities  of 
culture  ?  " 

Burroughs  did  not  at  once  reply,  and  when 
he  did  so  he  spoke  in  measured  accents,  pon- 
dering his  words. 

"  Indirectly  you  have  touched  upon  a 
matter,"  he  said,  "  that  has  been  much  in  my 
thoughts .  No  ;  I  can  say  quite  honestly  that, 
on  my  own  behalf,  I  have  no  regrets.  Quite 
the  reverse.  After  all  these  years,  I  like  it 
more  and  more.  The  country,  the  life,  the 
freedom — I  simply  revel  in  it.  It  comes  to 
me  as  a  new  wonder  and  a  new  delight  every 
day.  Look  at  that  glorious  stretch  of  land, 
look  at  that  sky  and  those  wild  flowers.  For 
you  they  are  just  something  pleasant  and  pass- 
ing that  you  will  easily  forget.  For  me — well, 
it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  I  feel  I  could  not 
live  without  them.  London  figures  in  my  mind 
as  a  great,  ugly,  smoky  place  where  people 
are  cramped  and  lead  artificial  lives — though, 
happily  for  them,  they  don't  know  it.  And, 


54  BARNARDO   BOYS 

mind  you,  I  am  not  speaking  from  old  and 
worn-out  memories.  I  was  in  London  eight 
years  ago,  having  to  go  to  England  on  family 
business.  But  in  spite  of  my  own  people  being 
there,  whom  I  was  very  pleased  to  see,  I  felt 
half  suffocated  mentally  in  London,  and  did 
not  recover  my  spirits  until  I  had  escaped  from 
it.  And  yet  all  the  time  I  cannot  forget  that 
London  represents,  as  you  say,  something  in 
which  we  out  here  are  lacking — I  mean  oppor- 
tunities of  culture." 

"  You  do  miss  those,  then?  "  I  asked. 

"  Personally  I  don't,"  Burroughs  made  haste 
to  reply.  "  Nor  does  my,  wife,  who  is  a  native 
of  Canada.  But  I  have  several  children,  some 
of  whom  are  growing  up,  and  I  have  sometimes 
felt  a  little  uneasy  on  their  behalf.  The 
Canadian  schools  are  really  very  good,  but  of 
course  they  don't  give  the  same  facilities  and 
stimulus  as  an  English  college.  Please  under- 
stand I  am  not  regretting  what  one  may  call 
the  '  social  polish  '  side  of  the  thing.  God 
forbid  that  my  children  should  grow  up  with 
any  sense  of  class  distinctions  !  But  I  should 
hate  the  idea  of  their  missing  the  solid  part 
of  it — the  developing  of  their  minds  and  the 
widening  of  their  general  outlook." 


AND   A   BARONET'S   SON          55 

"  Culture  can,  after  all,  be  imported,"  I 
suggested. 

"  Exactly,"  he  eagerly,  agreed.  "  That 
thought  is  my  consolation.  I  do  all  I  can  to 
encourage  them  in  reading.  They  have  plenty 
of  good  books  ;  and  I  try  to  keep  in  touch 
with  the  best  modern  work  and  have  it  sent 
out.  Then,  too,  being  extremely  fond  of  music 
myself,  though  unfortunately,  a  very  poor 
player,  I  have  been  able  to  stimulate  their 
interest  in  that  direction  also.  In  other  ways 
one  does  what  one  can,  and  on  the  whole  I 
am  satisfied  that,  for  them  as  well  as  for  my 
wife  and  myself,  the  balance  of  advantage  is 
with  the  life  out  here." 

And  these  things  that  Burroughs  told  me 
about  himself  assumed  the  greater  interest 
when  I  had  met  the  friend  to  whom  he  was 
conducting  me. 

Gray's  home  is  only  a  shack,  but  his 
garden  is  a  dream.  Picture  wide  sheets  of 
pansies  and  mignonette  surrounded  by  bego- 
nias, cannas,  and  phlox,  by  pinks,  salpiglossis, 
and  stocks,  with  walls  of  sweet  peas  and  sen- 
tinel hollyhocks  of  mauve  and  cream  and 
yellow . 

Wandering  beyond  that  haze  of  perfumed 


56  BARNARDO   BOYS 

prettiness,  I  reviewed  orderly  regiments  of 
onions,  beet,  and  carrots,  of  potatoes,  tomatoes, 
and  turnips  ;  and  I  came  presently  to  sprawling 
vines  of  pumpkin  and  cucumber,  rows  of  well- 
hearted  lettuce,  and  great  firm  cabbages  that 
looked  like  curling  stones.  Also  in  that  well- 
stocked  garden  were  long  lines  of  the  notorious 
wonderberry  fruiting  profusely. 

Mrs.  Gray  stood  at  the  gate  with  her  two 
sturdy  children.  But  she  told  me  that  she  was 
not  the  gardener.  Jim,  it  seemed,  found  time 
to  do  all  that.  And  Jim  had  built  the  shack, 
and  the  log  stables,  granary,  and  other  out- 
houses— a  cluster  of  buildings  looking  home- 
like and  picturesque  with  their  background  of 
sheltering  trees.  Jim's  fowls  and  pigs  were 
in  sight,  and  we  had  already  seen  Jim's  ten 
horses.  For  they  had  been  grazing  beside  the 
lovely  lake  that  skirts  Jim's  land  on  the 
south.  But  where  was  Jim  himself? 

Burroughs  supposed  that  we  sliould  find  him 
cutting  his  wheat.  But  no — Mrs.  Gray  explained 
that  Jim  finished  his  stocking  a  fortnight 
before  ;  and  now  he  was  helping  a  neighbour. 

On  an  adjoining  quarter-section  we  found 
our  man — a  thick-set  young  Saxon  with  curly 
yellow  hair,  a  cheerful  countenance,  and 


AND   A   BARONET'S   SON          57 

a  courteous  willingness  to  become  auto- 
biographical. 

After  his  father  was  run  over  at  Streatham, 
little  Jim  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  food  ; 
and  he  still  thinks  it  was  hard  luck  to  be  taken 
before  a  magistrate  for  picking  up  a  few 
potatoes  in  a  field.  However,  he  rather 
enjoyed  his  two  years  on  a  training -ship,  and 
he  left  the  Cornwall  with  some  thought  of 
following  the  sea  for  a  livelihood.  But  during 
his  first  voyage  Jim  was  so  continually  ill- 
treated  by  the  mate  that,  driven  at  last  to  make 
reprisal,  he  struck  that  bully  with  a  piece  of 
iron — a  circumstance  that  led  to  both  being 
discharged  when  the  schooner  returned  into 
port.  Jim  then  had  another  spell  of  the  London 
streets,  where  he  wandered  homeless  and 
hungry  with  a  companion  in  misfortune. 
Having  heard  of  Dr.  Barnardo's  Homes,  they 
went  there  one  evening  to  beg  a  night's  lodging 
—a  boon  that  was  not  denied.  Next  day  Jim's 
pal  enlisted  as  a  soldier,  and  Jim  himself,  when 
night  came  on,  returned  to  the  haven  at  Stepney 
Causeway.  There  he  stayed  until  sent  with  a 
party  of  lads  to  Canada. 

Recalling  these  details  of  his  pathetic  past, 
Mr.  Gray  smiled  down  at  us  from  his  seat  on 


58  BARNARDO   BOYS 

the  binder,  brought  temporarily  to  a  standstill 
on  the  margin  of  the  harvest.  Burroughs 
maliciously  suggested  that  Gray  would  be  fined 
for  the  time  he  was  wasting.  Gray,  with  a 
laughing  glance  over  his  shoulder,  guessed  the 
other  binders  were  still  half  a  mile  behind  him. 

It  was  instructive  to  see  Jim  and  Burroughs 
on  terms  of  hearty  friendship  and  social 
equality.  For  there  are  only  two  classes  in 
Canada — the  one  class  that  embraces  baronets' 
sons,  Barnardo  boys,  and  everybody  else  who 
works  hard  and  "  makes  good  "  (to  speak  in 
the  vernacular ) ;  and  the  other  class  that 
equally  embraces  everybody,  whether  born  in 
the  purple  or  in  the  slums,  who  shirks  work. 

Jim  went  on  with  his  story.  He  worked  on 
a  Canadian  farm  for  "  all  found,"  plus  accumu- 
lating wages,  which,  until  he  came  of  age,  were 
banked  with  the  Barnardo  organisation.  Then 
he  bought  a  partly  cultivated  quarter-section, 
utilising  his  capital  on  judicious  lines  advised 
by  his  former  guardians  :  so  much  as  first 
payment  for  the  land,  so  much  for  oxen,  im- 
plements and  seed,  and  so  much  for  main- 
tenance until  crops  rewarded  toil. 

Seven  years  have  passed  by.  Jim  has  now 
completed  the  purchase  of  his  land,  and  has 


AND   A   BARONET'S   SON          59 

already  refused  to  sell  it  for  £800.  For  ninety, 
acres  are  now  under  cultivation— and  a  full 
equipment  of  buildings,  with  ample  barbed 
wire  fencing,  enhance  the  value  of  a  homestead. 
Meanwhile,  Jim's  crops  have  enabled  him  to 
pay  for  a  binder,  a  seeder,  harrows,  ploughs, 
and  other  machinery,  while  the  number  of  his 
live  stock  increases  every  year.  So  the  boy 
who  once  stole  potatoes  is  now  worth  over 
£1,000,  and  is  living  with  his  family  in 
growing  prosperity  on  his  own  extensive  and 
beautiful  freehold. 

As  we  careered  over  the  stubble  at  twelve 
miles  an  hour,  I  ventured  the  opinion  that 
Jim  was  an  exceptional  man.  But  Burroughs 
laughed  sagaciously,  and  suggested  that,  after 
returning  to  Russell  for  dinner,  we  should 
take  the  old  Indian  trail  to  the  south,  then 
strike  west  and  overhaul  Tom  Green  and 
George  Fisher.  All  of  which  we  did. 

Green's  shack  has  been  replaced  by  a  good 
house— to  all  appearance  a  roomy  English 
villa,  but  made  mainly  of  wood.  We  found 
Green  stocking  the  last  of  his  oats,  and  singing 
over  their  excellence. 

Finding  me  inquisitive,  he  spoke  with  manly 
candour  of  his  early  days.  A  workhouse  boy 


6o  BARNARDO   BOYS 

of  Margate,  he  was  transferred  to  the  Barnardo 
Homes  at  a  tender  age.  He  does  not  know 
how  old  he  is,  and  lacks  all  knowledge  of  his 
parentage.  For  the  rest,  his  Canadian  experi- 
ences have  been  Gray's  in  duplicate,  even  to 
the  possession  of  a  wife  and  two  children. 
His  land  also  is  beautiful,  prolific,  and  paid 
for,  and  he  scorned  my  offer  of  £1,000  for  the 
farm  as  a  going  concern. 

"  I  must  say,"  said  that  healthy,  smiling 
young  man,  "  I  was  given  a  good  start.  First 
they  apprenticed  me  to  a  farmer,  and  after  that 
I  had  a  spell  of  work  on  the  Barnardo  Industrial 
Farm.  Then  one  day  Mr.  Struthers  sent  for 
me  and  offered  me  this  quarter-section  at 
six  dollars  an  acre,  which  was  very  cheap 
when  you  remember  that  quite  a  bit  of  the 
land  was  broken.  I  had  got  four  hundred 
dollars  saved,  so  I  paid  a  hundred  as  an  instal- 
ment on  the  land,  and  most  of  the  other  three 
hundred  went  towards  implements.  It  was 
terrible  uphill  work  at  first,  and  I  hadn't 
turned  the  corner  in  1907 — that  awful  year 
when  everybody's  wheat  got  frozen.  But  we're 
all  right  now,  thank  God,  and  if  there  comes 
another  failure  of  crops,  well,  it  won't  matter 
much.  I  sent  my  last  instalment  for  the  land 


AND   A   BARONET'S   SON          61 

three  months  ago,  and  before  that  I  was  clear 
with  everybody,  else,  and  a  nice  sum  put  by 
in  the  bank.  So  now,  as  I've  got  this  place 
in  good  order,  I'm  going*  to  buy  another 
quarter-section." 

"  Well,"  I  could  not  forbear  to  remark,  "  if 
your  new  quarter  is  as  beautiful  as  this  one, 
you  will  indeed  be  a  lucky  man." 

'  Yes,  isn't  it  fine  !  "  exclaimed  Green,  as 
he  gazed  at  his  property  with  sparkling  eyes. 

It  was  gently  undulating  ground,  giving  the 
spectator  a  new  vista  at  every  turn,  and  with 
here  and  there  a  pretty  little  coppice — relics 
of  the  prairie  left  to  supply  timber  and  fuel. 

'  If  you  are  interested  in  farming,"  he  went 
on  impetuously,  "  come  along  with  me  and  I'll 
show  you  where  I  made  a  big  mistake." 

I  hurried  after  that  nimble-footed  enthusiast ; 
and  we  descended  to  a  large  stubble  field  that 
lay  low. 

"  Early  frost,"  he  explained,  "  cut  off  the 
wheat  here  for  several  years  running.  I  lost 
it  all  every  time,  and  I  could  not  understand 
the  reason.  Everywhere  else  the  wheat  got 
through,  and  graded  splendidly.  Then  last  year 
I  tried  oats  here .  A  bumper  crop  !  Of  course 
I  did  the  same  this  year,  and  with  the  same 


62  BARNARDO   BOYS 

result.  It  is  quite  a  simple  matter — wheat 
does  best  on  the  high  ground ;  oats  do  best 
on  the  low  ground.  But,  you  see,  I  had  to 
learn  by  experience,  and  pretty  expensive  ex- 
perience, too  !  for  I  figured  it  out  the  other 
day  that,  if  I'd  known  this  wrinkle  at  the  start, 
it  would  have  made  a  difference  to  my  savings 
of  three  thousand  dollars." 

Even  if  Green  had  never  been  a  poor  little 
workhouse  boy,  it  would  have  done  me  good  to 
hear  him  talk  so  airily  of  such  a  loss. 

But  it  was  our  third  visit  that  provided  the 
most  memorable  revelation .  Not  only  was  Mr . 
Fisher  a  Barnardo  boy,  but — by  a  pretty  coin- 
cidence— Mrs.  Fisher  was  a  Barnardo  girl. 
They  fell  in  love  on  meeting  by  chance  in 
Canada . 

Their  five  children  were  the  most  winsome 
little  rogues  I  had  seen  since  leaving  England. 
No  sooner  was  I  seated  in  the  cosy  parlour 
than  Eric  and  Daisy  clambered  to  my  lap,  and 
with  wide  blue  eyes  told  me  about  the  naughty 
skunk  that  burrowed  last  Wednesday  into  their 
cupboard. 

Mrs.  Fisher  insisted  that  we  must  stop  to 
tea,  and  I  never  sat  down  to  a  finer  banquet 
than  that  bountiful  spread  of  salmon,  new-laid 


AND   A    BARONET'S   SON          63 

eggs,  and  cream,  with  choice  butter,  bread, 
cake,  and  preserves  made  by  our  gracious 
young  hostess. 

The  land  and  all  upon  it,  including  that  sub- 
stantial eight-roomed  house,  belongs  to  George, 
who  owes  no  man  a  cent.  Nay,  the  revenue 
from  his  crops  now  goes  almost  intact  to  swell 
his  banking  account.  For  he  is  blessed  with 
an  efficient  and  painstaking  helpmeet,  and  the 
surplus  eggs  and  butter  cover  the  cost  of 
groceries  and  clothes. 

"  So  you  see,"  she  explained,  during  our  con- 
fidential chat,  "  we  live  free  of  cost,  and  always 
have  plenty  of  the  best.  Of  course,  it  means 
a  good  deal  of  work,  but  I  don't  mind  that, 
because  it  is  all  so  interesting.  I  simply  love 
looking  after  the  fowls,  and  the  dear  things 
certainly  do  repay  all  the  trouble  you  take  over 
them.  My  birds  always  have  their  warm  feed 
in  the  morning.  That's  very  important.  I 
wouldn't  let  them  miss  it  if  the  weather  was  a 
hundred  below  zero.  You'd  be  surprised  how 
well  they  lay,  and  we  get  a  good  lot  of  eggs 
right  through  the  winter.  Of  course  I  sell 
those,  because  they  fetch  such  good  prices .  In 
the  summer  I  always  pickle  enough  to  last  us 
during  the  winter.  Come  and  see." 


64  BARNARDO   BOYS 

The  pantry  was  indeed  a  picture.  Large, 
airy,  and  spotlessly  clean,  it  contained  not  only 
great  earthenware  pots  in  which  eggs  were 
preserved,  but  basins  of  cream,  dishes  of  butter, 
two  sides  of  bacon,  and  an  immense  reserve 
of  home-made  jam. 

"  Of  course,"  the  vivacious  young  house- 
keeper rattled  on,  "  in  this  country  we  are  like 
the  bees — we  have  to  lay  up  stores  for  the 
winter.  If  you  just  arrange  things  carefully, 
nothing  is  a  bother,  and  there  is  always  plenty, 
of  everything.  Some  people  tell  me  their  fowls 
don't  pay.  But  can  you  wonder,  when  they  just 
throw  them  a  few  handfuls  of  corn,  and  it's 
nobody's  duty,  to  clean  out  the  roosts?  The 
woman  ought  to  see  to  these  things.  Her 
husband  has  his  crops  and  cattle  to  look  after, 
and  that's  quite  enough  for  one  person  to  do. 
Making  butter  and  attending  to  the  fowls  are 
just  as  much  a  wife's  duty  as  looking  after  the 
children  and  keeping  the  house  tidy.  .  .  . 
We've  just  got  a  cream  separator,  and  it's  a 
wonderful  saving.  .  .  .  In  this  country  a  man 
has  to  work  very  hard,  and  he  can't  get  on 
properly  unless  his  wife  does  her  share." 

Knowing  that  provisions  are  expensive  in 
central  Canada,  I  was  disposed  to  place  a 


AND   A   BARONET'S    SON          65 

liberal  construction  on  Mrs.  Fisher's  assertion, 
made  earlier  in  the  conversation,  that  she  and 
her  family  lived  free  of  cost.  The  butcher's 
bill  for  so  many,  I  suggested,  must  be  an 
appreciable  item.  Her  reply  but  served  to 
throw  new  light  on  domestic  economy  in  the 
Prairie  Provinces. 

"  We  certainly  do  have  a  quantity  of  meat 
in  addition  to  our  own  bacon,"  she  smilingly 
admitted,  "  but  there  is  no  butcher's  bill,  be- 
cause we  belong  to  a  beef  ring." 

I  did  not  know  what  that  was. 

"  Oh,  it's  a  splendid  thing,"  exclaimed  the 
enthusiastic  little  woman.  '  They  ought  to 
have  one  in  every  district.  There  are  twenty 
of  us  in  it — ourselves  and  nineteen  neighbours  ; 
and  each  member  contributes  one  beast  a  year. 
Of  course  large  families  require  more  meat 
than  small  families,  so  the  way  we  arrange  is 
this  :  whatever  we  have  every  week  is  set  down 
against  us  at  six  cents  a  pound,  and  when  we 
put  in  our  steer  the  weight  is  put  down  in  our 
favour  at  five  cents  a  pound.  That  leaves 
one  cent  for  slaughtering  and  for  waste.  Then 
at  the  end  of  the  season  one  total  is  balanced 
against  the  other  ;  and  in  our  case  we  have 
had  several  dollars  to  receive  each  time.  And 

Ike  Golden  Land.  £. 


66  BARNARDO    BOYS 

you  may,  say  that  the  steer  costs  us  nothing  to 
rear — only  a  little  of  my,  husband's  time  in 
looking  after  it — because  we  have  plenty  of 
pasture.  The  members  deliver  the  meat  them- 
selves, and  they  are  divided  into  four  delivery 
groups.  So  one  week  my  husband  fetches  our 
supply,  and  goes  round  to  our  three  nearest 
neighbours.  Then  for  the  next  three  weeks 
they  take  it  in  turn  to  do  the  delivering.  Out 
beef  ring  is  really  a  great  success." 

We  had  wandered  into  the  kitchen — the 
kitchen  of  a  model  housekeeper,  with  its  orderly 
rows  of  cooking-pots  and  crockery,  and  every- 
thing bright  and  clean. 

I  remarked  upon  the  pail  of  meal  steaming 
on  the  stove. 

"  That  is  for  one  of  the  mares,"  the  lady 
explained.  "  George  told  me  she  seemed  a 
little  out  of  sorts,  and  there  is  nothing  like  a 
nice  warm  feed  to  put  them  right.  That's  a 
good  example  of  what  I  was  saying.  Some 
women  would  tell  you  they  had  enough  to  do 
without  bothering  to  cook  for  the  horses.  But 
I  don't  look  at  it  like  that  at  all.  Never  mind 
the  bother.  How  can  a  man  see  to  a  thing  like 
that,  when  very  likely  he  has  to  be  out  plough- 
ing half  a  mile  away?  It  may  make  all  the 


AND   A    BARONET'S  SON          67 

difference  between  saving  or  losing  a  valuable 
horse.  So  I  say  a  woman  ought  to  do  it  !  " 

I  asked  her  how  she  liked  the  winter. 

"  The  winter,  of  course,  is  beautiful,"  she 
answered  simply.  Then,  in  a  ripple  of  merri- 
ment, she  went  on  :  "  Oh,  I  forgot  you  live  in 
England,  and  very  likely  have  heard  the  dread- 
ful stories  about  the  Canadian  winter — how 
everybody  has  his  nose  frozen  off,  and  the 
houses  are  buried  up  to  the  chimney-pots  in 
snow  !  It  is  very,  very  different  to  that.  Of 
course  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow,  but 
such  nice,  dry,  sparkling  snow  !  And  the  air 
is  so  clear,  and  the  sky  so  bright,  and  the  sun 
shines  so  warmly,  that  it  is  all  just  lovely.  Of 
course  when  there's  a  wind  blowing,  and  the 
weather  is  cloudy,  or  when  there's  a  blizzard 
on,  then  it's  best  to  keep  indoors,  or  you  might 
get  a  frost-bite.  Not  that  a  frost-bite  is  a 
very  serious  thing — it  soon  goes  off.  But  most 
of  the  time  you  can't  think  how  splendid  it  is 
to  be  out  of  doors.  The  children  have  great 
fun  toboganning  and  skating— and  so  do  we 
older  ones — torch-light  processions  on  snow- 
shoes,  and  I  don't  know  what  all.  There  is 
only  one  time  when  the  winter  isn't  nice  at  all. 
That's  when  thaws  begin  to  come  and  the 


68  BARNARDO    BOYS 

snow  is  half  melted,  and  the  ground  is  all 
sloppy.  We  feel  the  cold  much  more  then 
than  when  the  thermometer  is  right  below 
zero.  That's  the  only  time  when  one  of  the 
children  might  take  a  chill.  But  it  doesn't  last 
long.  The  snow  is  soon  all  gone,  then  the 
flowers  and  leaves  seem  to  come  out  by  magic, 
and  the  beautiful  summer  has  started  once 
more." 

Her  reference  to  the  children  prompted  me 
to  compliment  her  on  their  health,  intelligence, 
and  high  spirits. 

'  They  certainly  have  a  good  time,"  she 
admitted.  "  And  Henry  is  getting  to  be  such 
a  fine  horseman  !  He  is  my  eldest  boy,  you 
know — just  turned  ten.  The  other  day  he  rode 
twenty  miles  !  I  used  to  be  so  nervous  when 
he  was  on  horseback  ;  but  my  husband  said  it 
was  quite  safe,  and  it  certainly  seems  to  be. 
One  thing  I'm  very  pleased  about — they  are 
all  fond  of  school.  In  fact,  they  are  quite 
upset  if  the  weather  is  bad  and  I  won't  let  them 
go.  We  are  very  lucky  in  having  such  a  good 
school  in  this  section — and  less  than  a  mile 
away  !  " 

'*  You  never,"  I  asked  (not  because  I  thought 
it  likely,  but  to  continue  investigations  along 


AND    A   BARONET'S   SON          69 

the  line  of  popular  assumptions) — "  you  never 
feel  lonely?" 

"Lonely!"  echoed  Mrs.  Fisher  in  amaze- 
ment. "  Lonely?  What,  when  we  are  sur- 
rounded by  such  nice  neighbours,  and  I'm 
always  driving  round  to  see  them,  and  they're 
always  driving  round  to  see  me  !  And  when 
we  have  so  many  whist  parties  at  this  house  and 
musical  evenings  at  their  houses  !  Lonely- 
no,  that's  quite  impossible  out  here.  I  pity 
anybody,  trying  to  be  lonely  with  five  children 
about.  And  if  they  might  be  at  school,  and 
there  was  nobody  at  home,  and  I  wanted  to 
talk  with  somebody  but  hadn't  time  to  go  out — 
well,  there  is  always  the  telephone.  I  don't 
mind  telling  you,  I  often  have  a  chat  with  my 
friend  Mrs.  Knight — when  I'm  waiting  for  the 
bread  to  rise,  and  she's  doing  the  same  three 
miles  away." 

When  Mr.  Fisher  next  came  in — to  join  us 
in  the  pretty  parlour — I  found  myself  regarding 
him  with  a  new  interest.  For  I  now  had  a  clue 
to  the  smile  of  placid  contentment  that  seemed 
never  to  leave  his  face. 

Dimly,  and  without  full  understanding,  that 
happy  young  couple  know  themselves  to  be, 
in  their  origin,  children  of  poverty.  Vaguely 


70  BARNARDO   BOYS 

they  hear  rumours  of  people  short  of  food  in 
the  far-away  Old  Country.  "  Is  it  true — is  it 
really  true?  "  was  Mrs.  Fisher's  eager  question. 
And  when  I  told  her  the  facts,  her  eyes  filled 
with  tears. 

"  Oh,  tell  them  to  come  here,"  she  entreated. 
1  There  is  room  for  them  all  in  this  beautiful 
country.  They  can  easily  do  the  same  as 
George  and  me.  It  is  so  terrible  to  think  of 
them  like  that,  and  us  with  more  than  plenty. 
Oh,  please  tell  them  about  Canada,  and  just 
make  them  come  !  " 

I  promised  to  try. 


CHAPTER    V 

THE   BARR  COLONY 

A  seductive  scheme — Its  weak  spot — A  long,  arduous, 
and  costly  trek — Living  in  tents — Keeping  animals 
at  bay — Lloydminster  then  and  now — A  butcher's 
adventures — Dr.  Amos  and  the  axe  wounds — Mr. 
Barr's  withdrawal — The  remaining  leader — A  loyal 
leader — How  the  log  church  was  built — Its  stately 
successor — Arrival  of  the  first  train — Miriam  and 
her  birthright  —  Mr.  Hill's  farm  —  A  Cockney's 
triumph  —  Memories  of  tribulation  —  An  abortive 
beginning — Hindrances,  bad  luck  and  debt  —  The 
turning  of  the  tide — Piling  up  the  dollars — Canada 
as  a  cure  for  worry — Value  of  the  Hill  estate — 
Achievements  of  Lloydminster  men  —  Their  town 
analysed — A  widespread  aspiration. 

DURING  March,  1903,  the  Rev.  I.  M.  Barr, 
assisted  by  the  Rev.  G.  E.  Lloyd,  founded  a 
British  Colony  in  Canada  at  14,  Sergeant's 
Inn,  London,  E.C.  Every  adult  male  was  to 
have  his  free  grant  of  1 60  acres,  under  sanction 

of  the  Canadian  Government,  in  the  beautiful 

71 


72  THE    BARR   COLONY 

and  fertile  Saskatchewan  Valley.  The  whole 
thing  was  arranged  in  advance  with  a  masterly 
regard  for  detail.  Mr.  Barr  even  provided 
a  scheme  of  medical  insurance,  with  the  use 
of  a  hospital  and  trained  nurses,  on  the  basis 
of  a  small  annual  subscription.  In  a  word, 
the  prospectus  was  a  pressing  invitation  to  the 
Promised  Land,  and  some  1,500  names  were 
enthusiastically  enrolled. 

There  was  a  flaw  in  the  scheme .  The  colony 
was  established  200  miles  from  the  nearest 
railroad.  Thus  those  English  families,  after 
voyaging  across  the  Atlantic  and  travelling 
two-thirds  across  the  American  continent,  were 
faced  by  two  terrible  problems  :  first,  how 
to  get  to  their  land ;  secondly,  how  to  live 
when  they  had  got  there. 

At  great  expense — for  kites  are  attracted  by 
a  drove  of  pigeons — many  procured  horses, 
oxen,  and  wagons  for  the  long  trek  over  the 
rough  ground,  which  for  the  most  part  had 
been  left  black  and  desolate  by  recent  prairie 
fires.  A  number  of  those  poor  immigrants 
expended  the  last  of  their  scanty  savings  on 
food  for  the  journey.  Some  tramped  wearily 
on  foot.  Purged  of  the  faint-hearted  few  (who 
would  not  leave  Battleford  and  civilisation), 


THE    BARR   COLONY  73 

that  noble  procession  of  resolute  men,  staunch 
women,  and  plucky  children  passed  on  to 
their  goal.  It  proved  nothing  but  a  beautiful 
wilderness . 

And  there  at  first  they  lived  in  Government 
tents — the  men  in  some,  the  women  and 
children  in  others ;  representatives  of  both 
sexes  taking  night  watches  in  rotation  to  feed 
the  fires  that  held  timber-wolves  and  prairie 
dogs  at  bay.  Poor  Barr  colonists  !  They  were 
isolated  from  the  world.  They  were  a  society 
without  the  machinery  of  existence.  One  is 
tempted  to  emphasise  their  plight  with  a  grim 
suggestion  drawn  from  the  realm  of  historic 
irony.  Their  one  possible  means  of  livelihood 
was  to  take  in  each  other's  washing. 

I  stayed  in  one  of  the  fine  hotels  of  the 
prosperous  town  of  Lloydminster,  which  has 
its  own  weekly  newspaper,  six  places  of  wor- 
ship, two  banks,  two  large  schools,  a  range 
of  Government  offices,  three  grain  elevators, 
several  musical  societies  and  athletic  clubs,  and 
a  large  electric  plant  that  illuminates  its  broad 
thoroughfares.  Vainly  I  strove  to  realise  the 
momentous  fact  that,  on  the  site  of  this 
prosperous  town,  only  those  Government  tents 
were  standing  seven  years  ago.  For  in  their 


74  THE    BARR   COLONY 

fight  against  Fate  the  Barr  colonists  won.  They 
have  built  Lloydminster,  and  to-day  they  are 
rich,  contented,  and  triumphant.  The  case  has 
no  parallel,  I  believe,  in  the  history  of  modern 
Canada,  full  as  that  history  is  of  romance  and 
of  swift  and  amazing  developments. 

I  spoke  to  Mr.  Johnson,  the  butcher.  "  Ah  !  " 
he  recalled,  "  Mr.  Barr  arrived  with  only  two 
beasts,  and  I  had  the  killing  of  both.  I  bought 
one  carcass  and  retailed  it.  The  last  pound 
of  flank  was  soon  gone,  and  for  days  I  walked 
to  and  fro,  pondering  the  stubborn  problem, 
where  could  I  get  some  meat?  One  day  from 
nowhere  there  arrived  a  wandering,  wondering 
Indian.  I  gave  him  my  full  attention.  He 
had  picked  up  a  few  English  words  from 
Hudson  Bay  men.  But  we  communicated 
mainly  by  signs  ;  and  the  end  of  it  was  that 
I  set  off  with  him  on  a  long  journey  to  the 
north.  He  had  understood  !  We  came  to  a 
place  where  there  was  a  herd  of  cattle.  I 
bought  a  steer  ;  the  Indian  produced  a  rig  ; 
and  we  brought  my  beast  back  in  triumph.  I 
decided  to  reward  the  Indian  at  the  rate  of 
two  cents  per  pound.  He  was  satisfied  with  this 
payment,  and  in  a  few  days,  when  that  meat 
was  all  gone,  we  went  off  to  fetch  another 


THE    BARR   COLONY  75 

carcass.  So  the  supply  was  kept  up;  and 
soon  I  had  built  a  little  hut— our  first  butcher's 
shop." 

Meanwhile  some  of  the  men  had  gone  out 
with  guns  and  shot  wild  ducks  and  prairie 
chickens.  Others,  establishing  themselves  as 
merchants  of  the  community,  drove  back  to 
Battleford  and  returned  with  wagon-loads  of 
provisions.  Some  fetched  timber,  so  that  a 
beginning  could  be  made  with  building  opera- 
tions. The  women  and  children  set  about 
growing  vegetables.  A  number  of  men 
journeyed  some  hundreds  of  miles  away  to 
work  for  wages. 

I  spoke  to  Dr.  Amos.  "  Nothing,"  he  ex- 
plained, "  came  of  Mr.  Barr's  medical  scheme. 
At  least,  members  presented  their  subscription 
cards,  but  the  hospital  and  nurses  proved  as 
theoretical  as  my  salary.  Of  course  we  all 
helped  one  another,  and  monetary  considera- 
tions scarcely  existed.  My  work  was  constant 
and  pretty  monotonous — every  day  I  was  stitch- 
ing up  axe  wounds  1  You  see,  the  men  were 
strangers  to  that  most  useful  tool." 

Unfortunately  Mr.  Barr  did  not  remain 
sufficiently  long  with  his  colony  to  witness  the 
turn  of  its  fortunes .  Why  he  withdrew  I  found 


76  THE    BARR   COLONY 

it  impossible  definitely  to  ascertain.  Some 
think  that,  alarmed  at  the  plight  in  which  he 
had  unwittingly  involved  his  trustful  follow- 
ing, he  lost  his  nerve.  Concerning  that 
interesting  figure,  the  rest  is  silence.  Whither 
he  went,  and  whether  he  be  alive  or  dead,  no 
one  seems  to  know. 

The  case  of  Mr.  Lloyd  is  different.  He 
remained  with  the  colony,  sharing  the  stress 
of  those  early  days  ;  and  the  town's  name  is  a 
memorial  of  the  affectionate  regard  in  which 
he  is  held. 

As  the  Principal  of  Emmanuel  College 
(Saskatoon),  Archdeacon  Lloyd  has  duties 
which,  at  the  time  of  my  visit  to  Lloydminster, 
detained  him  elsewhere ;  and  thus  I  missed 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  a  remarkable  man  of 
whom  Canada  has  cause  to  be  proud.  But  in 
the  centre  of  the  town  I  saw  the  little  "  log- 
cabin  "  church — so  picturesque  without,  so  rest- 
ful within — that  he  built.  At  least,  he  and 
all  the  others  built  it  jointly.  For  nearly  every 
colonist  assisted  according  to  his  or  her  ability 
— some  contributing  a  three -dollar  log,  some 
a  two -dollar  log.  And  already — the  needs  of 
the  community  having  outgrown  the  accommo- 
dation of  that  little  pioneer  edifice — a  stately 


THE    BARR   COLONY  77 

brick  and  stone  church,  costing  ten  thousand 
dollars,  was  arising  to  gladden  the  heart  of 
Lloydminster's  popular  rector,  the  Rev.  C. 
Carruthers. 

An  early  beginning  was  made  with  the  grow- 
ing of  grain,  primitive  means  being  available 
for  grinding  it.  Then  at  last  came  the  news 
that,  miles  and  miles  away,  the  railway  line 
was  approaching.  Thus  was  opened  up  the 
new  community's  first  outside  market.  For 
the  railway  gangs  had  many  horses,  and  were 
willing  to  pay  well  for  oats.  The  Canadian 
Northern  Company  pushed  on  the  work  with 
all  possible  speed,  incidentally  providing,  in  the 
construction  of  the  road,  a  welcome  outlet  for 
Lloydminster  labour.  One  man  told  me  that 
the  most  beautiful  music  he  ever  heard  was 
the  whistle  of  the  first  approaching  train. 
When  the  great  locomotive  appeared  in  sight, 
the  Barr  colonists  sang  and  wept  for  joy.  The 
days  of  tribulation  were  over — the  era  of  pros- 
perity had  dawned. 

I  strolled  into  the  suburbs  of  the  town  and, 
passing  through  a  pretty  garden  with  its 
inviting  tennis-court,  I  entered  a  charming 
bungalow.  For  I  had  a  fancy  to  see  Miriam, 
the  first  child  born  at  Lloydminster.  And  that 


78  THE    BARR   COLONY 

merry  little  girl,  who  would  soon  be  seven  years 
old,  introduced  me  to  her  dollies  and  her  great 
big  Teddy-bear. 

From  the  juvenile  prattle,  confirmed  and 
elucidated  by  a  delighted  mother,  I  learnt  that, 
under  the  terms  of  a  picturesque  Dominion 
statute,  the  Government  had  just  granted 
Miriam  a  valuable  town  site  in  Lloydminster— 
birthright  of  the  first  native  inhabitant. 

I  drove  out  to  see  Mr.  Hill  and  his  family, 
who  came  from  Woolwich.  Since  there  are 
three  grown  sons,  the  joint  estate  is  a  square 
mile  of  rich  land,  beautifully  wooded  here  and 
there,  and  enclosing  two  lovely  lakes.  The 
youngest  boy  was  herding  their  large  "  bunch  " 
of  horses  and  cows,  his  brothers  were  harvest- 
ing the  wide  expanse  of  wheat  and  oats,  and 
the  old  man  was  keeping  an  eye  on  his 
twenty  score  of  hogs. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  chuckled  Mr.  Hill,  "  my  oats 
scored  95.5  out  of  a  possible  100  at  Brandon 
Winter  Fair,  averaging  86  bushels  to  the  acre 
and  50  pounds  to  the  bushel.  Not  bad,  eh,  for 
an  old  Cockney  who,  until  he  came  out  here, 
had  never  done  any  farming  ?  But  those  early 
days  I  You  cannot  imagine  what  we  went 
through." 


THE    BARR   COLONY  79 

I  asked  him  to  try  and  give  me  an  idea  of 
that  black  time. 

'  Well/'  he  said,  "  we  had  a  terrible  set- 
back at  the  very  start.  It  was  in  June,  1903, 
that  we  arrived,  and  at  once  my  boys  and  I 
got  to  work  on  the  adjoining  quarter-sections 
allotted  to  us  near  the  Battle  River.  For 
several  weeks  we  were  at  it  from  morning  to 
night,  getting  along  famously.  We  had  built 
a  fine  log-house,  and  we  had  broken  a  lot 
of  land  ;  then  a  letter  came  to  say  there  had 
been  a  mistake,  and  we  must  surrender  two 
of  the  quarter-sections,  as  they  had  been 
previously  allotted  to  some  Swedes.  As  we 
had  determined  to  have  our  land  all  in  one 
piece,  that  meant  surrendering  the  entire 
section.  But  the  loss  of  our  time  and  labour 
was  the  least  important  part  of  it.  The  terrible 
thing  was  that,  while  we  could  have  scraped 
through  pretty  well  with  the  start  we  had  got, 
there  was  no  money  left  for  beginning  all  over 
again.  The  long  trek  had  made  too  heavy 
an  inroad  into  the  savings  I  had  brought  out 
with  me." 

"  So  what  did  you  do?  " 

'  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  take  my 
wife  and  young  children  back  to  live  in  the 


8o  THE    BARR   COLONY 

colony  tents,  while  my  three  boys  set  off  to 
tramp  70  or  100  miles  and  work  for  wages. 
By  the  end  of  the  fall  they  came  back 
with  200  dollars,  which  enabled  us  to  pro- 
vision ourselves  for  the  winter.  Then,  when 
the  spring  came  round,  off  they  went  to  earn 
more  money  to  keep  us  going.  Not  till  June 
was  I  able  to  start  on  our  new  quarter-sections 
— this  land  we  now  occupy.  Single-handed 
I  couldn't  do  much,  especially  as  my  two 
horses  died  and  I  only  had  oxen  to  break 
with.  Getting  a  house  built  was  the  biggest 
thing  done  that  year  ;  so  you  may  say  it  wasn't 
till  1905,  when  a  nice  bit  of  land  was  broken, 
that  we  made  our  start.  That  means  we  didn't 
get  our  first  crop  till  1906,  by  which  time 
I  was  heavily  in  debt.  It  looked  as  if 
we'd  be  all  right  the  next  year,  but  early 
frost  played  havoc  with  the  wheat.  It  was 
like  that  right  through  the  country — 1907  is 
remembered  as  the  black  year.  Of  course 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  hang  on — to  emi- 
grate back  to  England  was  out  of  the  question, 
because  we  had  no  money  to  pay  our  passage, 
leave  alone  pay  our  debts.  Well,  the  1908 
crop  not  only  cleared  off  every  penny  we  owed, 
but  left  me  with  a  bigger  balance  than  the 


THE    BARR  COLONY  81 

money  I  came  out  with.  As  for  last  year 
and  this,  it  has  been  just  a  case  of  piling  up 
the  dollars." 

"  There  is  nothing  like  sticking  to  a  thing," 
I  observed. 

"  That's  true,"  Mr.  Hill  heartily  agreed. 
"  And  look  you  here  :  if  there  was  no  way  of 
getting  to  the  position  we've  got  to,  except 
by  going  through  what  we've  gone  through, 
I'd  say  it's  well  worth  it,  and  I'd  advise  others 
to  come  out  and  do  the  same.  But  it's  not 
like  that  at  all.  People  who  come  out  now 
don't  have  to  go  through  a  twentieth  part  what 
we  had  to  go  through.  They've  got  to  work, 
of  course,  and  they  don't  have  much  to  show 
for  it  in  the  first  two  years  ;  but  after  that 
everything  is  plain  sailing.  And  so  should  we 
have  found  everything  plain  sailing  after  two 
years,  if  we  hadn't  had  that  long  trek  and 
then  found  ourselves  two  hundred  miles  from 
a  railway.  Don't  think  I'm  complaining,  for 
I'm  not.  I  feel  too  grateful  for  that.  When 
I  lived  in  Woolwich,  what  with  low  wages  and 
slack  work  it  was  no  light  matter  feeding  so 
many  and  keeping  a  roof  over  their  heads  ;  and 
there  was  always  a  nasty  feeling  about  what 
would  happen  when  I  got  too  old  to  work. 

Tht  Golden  Land.  n 


82  THE    BARR   COLONY 

But  now — well,  my  three  eldest  boys  have  got 
their  future  already  made  for  'em,  and  it'll  be 
every  bit  as  easy  for  the  others  when  they 
grow  up.  As  for  me,"  added  the  old  fellow, 
with  twinkling  eyes,  "  if  I  never  did  another 
stroke  of  work,  there  would  still  be  plenty  for 
the  wife  and  rrie.  I  tell  you,  the  word  '  worry  ' 
has  been  taken  clean  out  of  my  life.  That's 
what  Canada  has  done  for  me." 

"  And  you  have  no  desire  to  go  back  to 
Woolwich?"  I  asked. 

'  Yes,  I  have,"  was  his  emphatic  reply.  '  I 
should  like  to  go  back ;  but  not  to  stay- 
only  to  have  the  chance  of  telling  people  about 
this  country  and  persuading  them  to  come  out. 
It  seems  such  a  pity  for  all  those  thousands 
in  Woolwich — and  in  plenty  of  other  places, 
for  that  matter — to  be  dragging  along  in  the 
old  way,  out  of  work  nearly  half  the  time,  and 
never  able  to  put  anything  by  for  a  rainy  day 
or  old  age,  when,  if  they  only  knew,  they  could 
come  out  here  and  soon  be  comfortably  off, 
and  never  need  worry  about  money  for  the  rest 
of  their  lives." 

Making  my  own  inquiries,  and  taking  "  im- 
proved "  land  at  its  lowest  local  value,  I  found 
that  the  Hill  estate  was  worth  £3,200 — a  sum 


THE    BARR   COLONY  83 

which,  of  course,  left  out  of  account  the  family's 
herds  and  houses  and  machinery.  Since  their 
annual  revenue  from  grain  alone  is  over 
£  1,000,  the  property  is  not,  however,  likely 
to  come  on  the  market. 

And  Mr.  Hill  is  but  one  of  the  numerous 
Barr  colonists  prospering  on  the  land  in  the 
district.  His  near  neighbours  include  two 
University  graduates  and  an  ex-costermonger. 
Lloydminster  men  took  twenty-seven  prizes  for 
grain  at  the  Regina,  Edmonton,  and  Calgary 
fairs  during  the  six  months  preceding  my  visit. 
In  the  previous  year,  Lloydminster  men  bought 
agricultural  machinery  to  the  value  of  i  55,000 
dollars,  or,  approximately,  £31,000. 

In  that  district  I  found  27,000  acres  grow- 
ing wheat,  oats,  barley  and  flax.  This  year 
(  1911)  the  area  under  cultivation  will  be 
34,000  acres.  The  town's  population  was 
1,500  persons,  including  five  clergymen,  four 
doctors,  two  lawyers,  one  dentist,  two  druggists, 
three  auctioneers,  one  veterinary  surgeon,  and 
two  members  of  the  mounted  police  force. 
Lloydminster  also  possessed  six  large  general 
stores  and  two  hardware  stores  ;  two  bakers, 
two  butchers,  two  tailors,  two  blacksmiths,  two 
jewellers,  and  two  laundries  ;  one  shoemaker, 


84  THE    BARR   COLONY 

one  saddler,  one  musical  instrument  maker, 
one  clothier,  one  furniture  dealer,  one  telephone 
office,  one  telegraph  office,  one  printing  office, 
and  four  fruit  and  candy  stores. 

And  Lloydminster,  in  its  aspect,  wealth,  and 
rapidity  of  growth,  is  typical  of  the  numerous 
towns  that  have  sprung  up  along  the  railway 
routes  of  the  Prairie  Provinces. 

Thus  we  see  that  Canada  pours  forth  her 
immeasurable  wealth  for  those  who  will  till 
and  toil ;  and  it  remains  to  be  said  that  the 
desire  of  Lloydminster  is  for  more  new  arrivals 
who  will  work  on  the  land,  and  thereby  help 
to  populate  the  district  and  swell  the  general 
volume  of  prosperity. 

I  heard  the  same  wish  expressed  in  every 
district  that  I  visited. 


CHAPTER  VI 

NIGHTINGALE   IN   IRRICANA 

Stereotyped  method  of  colonisation — Sir  Thomas 
Shaughnessy's  innovation — The  concession  of  terri- 
tory to  the  C.P.R.— Why  they  took  land  they 
previously  refused — Irrigating  3,000,000  acres — 
i, 600  miles  of  canals  and  ditches — An  Irishman's 
experiences — Raising  cattle  without  trouble  or  cost 
— The  efficiency  of  branding — Profits  from  irri- 
gated land — How  Mr.  Buckley  began  farming — 
Terms  of  land  purchase — What  he  bought,  and  the 
prices — His  phenomenal  wheat  :  a  story  of  brilliant 
blundering — The  rudiments  of  irrigation  explained 
— New  way  of  coping  with  prairie  fires — Finding 
live  fish  on  ploughed  land — The  Strathmore  expert 
and  his  experiments — Driving  to  the  "Ready-made" 
farms — A  tethered  black  bear — Nightingale  and  its 
citizens — Their  former  callings — A  happy,  hopeful 
community — Benefits  of  co-operation — Opening  of 
the  first  store — An  idea  that  may  mark  an  epoch. 

TEN  miles  from  Strathmore,  Alberta,  is  a  baby 
town  that  has  been  christened  after  a  great 
Englishwoman  who  recently  passed  to  her 

85 


86          NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA 

rest.  And  Nightingale  is  founded  on  two 
simple  ideas — one  as  old  as  Egypt,  the  other 
sensationally  new.  I  will  deal  first  with  the 
second. 

In  human  affairs  the  desirable  end  is  apt 
long  to  remain  associated  with  a  circuitous 
means.  But  one  day  the  seer  arises  who 
demonstrates  that,  in  order  to  secure  roast 
sucking-pig,  it  is  not  necessary  to  burn  down 
a  house  containing  young  swine.  He  hits  upon 
a  short  cut,  which  is  what  Sir  Thomas  G. 
Shaughnessy  has  done  at  Nightingale. 

The  history  of  Australia,  Africa,  and  the 
United  States,  equally  with  that  of  Canada, 
is  identified  with  a  method  of  colonisation 
that  has  become  so  stereotyped  as  to  seem 
inevitable . 

The  settler  arrives  upon  his  empty,  virgin 
land.  Wrestling  with  Nature  and  unfamiliar 
trades,  he  builds  himself  a  dwelling  and  digs 
himself  a  water  supply.  Then,  rood  by  rood, 
he  clears  his  ground,  and  ploughs  it,  and  puts 
in  seed.  Greatly  are  his  pluck  and  patience 
taxed  by  these  slow,  laborious  preliminaries, 
which,  as  I  say,  have  always  been  regarded 
as  unavoidable.  But  why — it  occurred  to  the 
C.P.R.  president — should  not  house,  well,  and 


NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA        87 

stabling  be  constructed  before  the  settler 
arrives  ?  Of  that  idea,  so  brilliantly  obvious 
when  once  it  had  been  thought  of,  the  ready- 
made  farms  of  Irricana  and  elsewhere  are  the 
first-fruits. 

The  foundation  of  Lloydminster,  described 
in  my  last  chapter,  was  a  grim  illustration  of 
colonisation,  old  style.  The  foundation  of 
Nightingale,  to  be  described  in  this  chapter, 
is  a  delightful  illustration  of  colonisation,  new 
style.  But  before  dealing  with  the  affairs  of 
that  little  community,  I  should  mention  that 
it  is  independent  of  rain.  And  this  brings  me 
to  the  venerable  factor  on  which  the  new  town's 
future  will  be  based. 

Crossing  Canada  eight  years  ago,  I  was 
depressed  by  a  deserted  stretch  of  rolling  prairie 
between  Calgary  and  a  point  about  thirty  miles 
west  of  Medicine  Hat.  Out  on  that  grey 
wilderness,  clothed  so  meagrely  with  vegeta- 
tion, the  only  life  I  saw  was  a  gaunt  coyote 
racing  away  in  affright  at  the  train.  Nor  was 
I  the  only  person  who  did  not  think  much  of 
that  country.  When  the  C.P.R.  undertook  to 
span  Canada,  it  was  agreed  by  the  Government 
that,  to  make  it  worth  their  while,  they  should 
receive  25,000,000  acres  of  land  within  a 


88        NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA 

twenty-mile  radius  on  both  sides  of  their 
line  ;  and,  since  they  were  allowed  to  pick  and 
choose,  they  declined  to  accept,  as  part  of  their 
real-estate  bonus,  the  questionable  territory  on 
which  I  afterwards  saw  that  lean  and  lonely 
prairie  dog. 

Two  things  happened  that  caused  the  C.P.R. 
to  change  their  minds.  Canadian  interest  was 
aroused  in  the  fine  crops  insured  by  irrigation 
in  the  United  States  ;  and  the  Ottawa  Parlia- 
ment passed  wise  laws  controlling  the  Dominion 
waterways.  So  the  C.P.R., with  an  eye  on  the 
gushing  torrent  of  the  Bow  River,  said  they 
would  have  those  3,000,000  acres  after  all. 
They  decided  to  spend  £  1,000,000  in  irrigating 
the  area,  which  is  one-eighth  the  size  of 
England  and  Wales.  For  no  scheme  is  too 
large  or  too  small,  nothing  is  too  modest  or 
too  magnificent,  for  that  versatile  and  con- 
scientious corporation  to  undertake. 

They  have  already,  spread  their  network  of 
artificial  watercourses  over  a  third  of  the 
country — the  western  section.  Besides  pro- 
viding a  reservoir  3  miles  long,  half  a  mile 
wide,  and  40  feet  deep,  they  have  constructed 
17  miles  of  main  canals  (120  feet  wide  and 
10  feet  deep),  150  miles  of  secondary  canals, 


NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA        89 

and  1,433  miles  of  distributing  ditches— works 
that  have  involved  the  removal  of  8,250,000 
cubic  yards  of  .earth.  Then,  too,  the  industrious 
C.P.R.  have  made,  as  necessary  adjuncts  to  this 
scheme  of  irrigation,  a  number  of  spillways, 
drops,  flumes,  measuring  weirs,  and  highway 
bridges. 

I  drove  inland  from  Gleichen,  and,  calling 
upon  several  farmers  of  the  irrigated  land,  I 
asked  them  how  they  were  getting  on.  One  was 
a  middle-aged  Irishman  who,  four  years 
before,  arrived  from  his  native  land  with 
£715,  a  large  family,  and  no  knowledge  of 
farming . 

In  Ireland  Mr.  John  C.  Buckley  was  making 
a  bare  living,  and  there  were  no  prospects  for 
his  boys  ;  in  Canada  he  is  already  a  man  of 
substance.  Beginning  with  320  acres,  this 
genial  enthusiast  already  owns  a  square  mile. 
The  difference  between  what  he  paid  for  the 
land  and  the  price  at  which  he  could  sell  it 
represents  over  £6,000.  But  he  would  not 
dream  of  realising ;  first,  because  all  the 
irrigated  land  of  the  western  section  has  now 
been  taken  up,  largely  by  speculators,  and  its 
value  is  rising  every  day ;  secondly,  because 
his  bumper  crops  yield  a  rich  revenue. 


90        NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA 

"  Next  year,"  he  mentioned,  "  I  shall  have 
600  acres  under  wheat  and  oats." 

"You  don't  go  in  for  stock,  then?'  I 
innocently  remarked. 

"  I've  made  a  beginning,"  was  his  puzzling 
reply.  "  I've  got  between  sixty  and  seventy 
head  of  cattle,  and  the  number  is  increasing 
every  year." 

'  Then  do  you  rent  some  of  your  neighbours' 
land  for  grazing  ?  " 

"  Lor'  bless  you,  no  1  "  he  answered.  '  I  do 
what  every  one  else  does — turn  my  cattle  out 
on  the  prairie.  They  are  all  marked,  for  each 
of  us  has  his  distinctive,  registered  brand.  A 
man  doesn't  trouble  to  fence  his  holding  until 
he  cultivates  it,  and  as  thousands  of  acres  here- 
abouts have  been  bought  only  as  an  investment, 
there  are  wide  areas  on  which  anybody's  cattle 
can  roam.  But  of  course  they  get  away  thirty 
or  forty  miles  from  here,  where,  in  the  absence 
of  railroads,  the  land  is  still  Government  prop- 
erty, and  free,  not  only  to  wandering  herds, 
but  to  human  beings  who  care  to  appropriate 
quarter-sections  of  it." 

"  But  how,"  I  asked,  "  do  you  keep  in  touch 
with  your  cattle  ?  " 

"  Keep  in  touch  with  them  !  "  he  laughed. 


NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA        91 

"  Why,  I  don't  give  a  thought  to  them  for  six 
or  eight  months  in  the  year.  I  know  they're 
as  safe  as  if  I  saw  them  every  day  grazing  on 
my  own  land.  When  I  want  them,  off  I  go  on 
horseback.  If  you  know  where  the  rivers  and 
lakes  are,  you  don't  as  a  rule  have  much  trouble 
in  locating  your  bunch,  for  they  are  pretty  sure 
to  keep  near  water.  Then  you  have  the  satis- 
faction of  seeing  what  a  fine  lot  of  fat  beasts 
they  have  grown  into  without  costing  you 
five  minutes'  attention  or  five  cents  for 
feed." 

And  I  thought  of  the  stock -raisers  in 
England,  and  what  it  costs  them  for  land  and 
labour.  It  really  does  not  seem  fair. 

"  As  for  irrigation,"  testified  this  prosperous 
Irishman,  "  its  value,  when  you  have  learnt 
how  to  use  it,  can  hardly  be  exaggerated.  Of 
course,  we  all  have  areas  which,  because  of 
the  levels,  are  outside  its  influence,  and  for 
which,  therefore,  we  do  not  have  to  pay  the 
annual  water  rental  of  fifty  cents  per  acre.  I 
and  others  have  done  splendidly  on  this  non- 
irrigable  land,  and  experience  shows — for  one 
or  two  men  have  been  farming  in  the  district 
for  twenty  years — that,  in  eight  seasons  out 
of  nine,  the  rainfall  is  sufficient  to  ensure  a 


92         NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA 

good  paying  crop.  But  it  is  well  within  the 
mark  to  say  that,  where  irrigation  operates,  the 
yield  of  grain  is  more  than  doubled." 

Concerning  Mr.  Buckley's  success,  I  had 
the  evidence  of  his  vistas  of  growing  grain, 
his  acres  of  potatoes  and  sugar  beet,  his  herds 
of  swine,  and  flocks  of  fowls  and  turkeys.  Con- 
cerning the  stages  of  his  evolution,  I  desired 
more  information. 

"  Well,"  he  explained,  "  I  arrived  from 
Ireland  with  my  wife  and  seven  children  on 
May  8,  1906,  and  two  days  later  I  had  bought 
my  first  half -section — 320  acres.  For  259 
acres  that  were  irrigable  the  price  was  25 
dollars  an  acre.  For  the  remaining  61  acres 
that  were  non-irrigable  the  price  was  i  5  dollars 
an  acre.  Those  figures  work  out  in  English 
money  to  a  total  of  £1,539  iis.  8d." 

"  And    your    available     capital    was     only 

£715?" 

"  Exactly.       But    the    terms    of    purchase 

merely  required  me  to  provide  one-quarter  of 
the  money,  or  £384  i/s.  lid.,  the  remainder 
being  payable  in  four  equal  annual  instal- 
ments, with  6  per  cent,  interest  on  the  out- 
standing balance.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
C.P.R.  give  even  more  liberal  terms  nowadays, 


NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA        93 

for  only  one-tenth  is  payable  in  cash,  the 
rest  of  the  money  being  spread  over  nine 
years." 

"  Having  secured  your  land,  and  disbursed 
more  than  half  your  capital,  what  did  you  do 
next?  " 

"  I  set  about  getting  a  house  built ;  and  in 
the  meantime  the  C.P.R.  lent  me  one  rent  free, 
with  coals  and  light.  My  house  and  a  stable 
(30  feet  by  28  feet)  cost  £125,  the  price  being 
so  low  because  my  boy  and  I  did  a  lot  of  the 
work.  Then  I  paid  £135  8s.  4d.  for  four 
horses,  £13  155.  for  harness,  £11  55.  for  a 
plough,  £16  135.  4d.  for  two  cows,  £5  8s.  4d. 
for  a  drag-harrow,  and  £7  145.  2d.  for  a  disc- 
harrow.  By  that  time  I  had  less  than  £150 
left.  But  I  was  ready  to  begin  farming." 

"  Of  which,"  I  interpolated,  "  you  had  no 
previous  experience?  " 

"  Practically  none,"  said  Mr.  Buckley.  "  I 
knew  something  about  animals,  having  been 
a  cattle-dealer  in  Ireland.  In  an  amateurish 
way,  I  had  also  played  about  with  a  piece  of 
land.  But  now,  of  course,  I  was  taking  up  the 
business  seriously,  and  I  did  not  make  the 
mistake  of  fancying  I  knew  what  I  did  not 
know.  I  find  it  a  good  plan  to  ask  questions. 


94        NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA 

One  picks  up  a  wrinkle  here  and  a  wrinkle 
there." 

"And  how  did  the  early  crops  come  out? 
A  neighbour  of  yours  told  me  you  made  a 
phenomenal  hit  with  your  1908  wheat." 

"  So  I  did,"  the  blushing  farmer  admitted. 
"  It  graded  extra  number  one  northern  at  Fort 
William,  and  fetched  i  dollar  4  cents  a  bushel, 
which  was  half  a  cent  above  the  highest  Winni- 
peg quotation  of  the  season.  It  weighed  65!  Ibs. 
to  the  bushel,  and  I  was  dumbfounded  to  see 
it  described  as  the  finest  wheat  ever  grown  in 
North  America,  if  not  in  the  world.  When  it 
became  known  that  I  was  just  a  beginner,  so 
to  speak,  and  had  only  been  farming  three 
years,  the  journalists  and  magazine-writers 
came  along  to  ask  me  how  I  did  it.  But  the 
facts  I  had  to  tell  them  sounded  more  humili- 
ating than  impressive." 

"  Indeed?" 

"  That  wheat  was  grown  on  a  fifty-acre  field 
which,  in  the  previous  year,  had  yielded  me 
a  first  crop  that  came  out  at  25  bushels 
to  the  acre.  But  when  the  time  arrived  for 
seeding  it  again,  that  field  wasn't  ploughed, 
because  I  hadn't  the  necessary  horses  avail- 
able. So,  following  the  advice  of  some  neigh- 


NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA        95 

hours,  I  drilled  in  the  seed  (red  Fyffe)  on  the 
stubble — a  very  improper  proceeding,  of  course. 
I  didn't  even  disc  the  land.  But  I  did  harrow 
it  after  sowing,  and  in  that  operation  I  blun- 
dered badly.  I  harrowed  in  the  direction  I 
sowed,  instead  of  crosswise.  The  pin  of  the 
harrow  naturally  ran  in  the  groove  made  by, 
the  disc  of  the  drill,  the  firmer  ground  on  either 
side  keeping  it  in  that  course.  An  inevitable 
result  was  that  much  of  the  seed  was  rooted 
up,  and  the  crop  consequently  worked  out  at 
only  20  bushels  to  the  acre,  compared  with 
the  40  bushels  secured  by  neighbours  all 
around  me.  But,  you  see,  in  spite  of  my  mis- 
takes, or  because  of  them,  the  quality  of  the 
grain  was  remarkable." 

"  A  case  of  brilliant  blundering,"  I  sug- 
gested. 

"  Ah  !  "  confessed  my  contrite  companion. 
"  I  haven't  yet  told  you  about  the  worst  blunder 
of  all.  I  had  made  the  grievous  mistake  of 
breaking  that  bit  of  prairie  at  the  end  of  July 
and  the  beginning  of  August,  instead  of  in 
June,  which  is  the  proper  time  for  the  work." 

'  Then  the  moral  of  the  whole  affair  would 
apparently  be,"  I  said,  "  that  the  more  mistakes 
one  makes  the  better." 


96        NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA 

"  Oh,  no,  no,"  cried  the  horrified  farmer. 
'  You  must  not  forget  that,  compared  with  my 
neighbours,  I  lost  over  £150  on  that  crop. 
Besides,"  he  modestly  added,  "  I  have  since 
found  how,  by  avoiding  mistakes,  one  can  com- 
bine a  heavy  yield  with  a  good  position  on  the 
prize  list." 

So  far  as  prosperity  went,  there  seemed 
nothing  to  choose  between  Mr.  Buckley  and 
such  of  his  neighbours  as  I  interviewed.  I 
found  one  rejoicing  over  the  fact  that,  from 
an  irrigated  area  of  forty  acres,  he  had  just 
harvested  such  superb  wheat  that  it  had  already 
sold  for  seed  at  a  dollar  and  a  half  per  bushel, 
at  which  price  that  fraction  of  his  year's  crop 
represented  a  profit  nearly  as  large  as  the  cost 
of  his  quarter-section. 

The  rudiments  of  irrigation  were  explained 
to  me.  At  the  highest  available  point  on  each 
quarter-section  there  is  an  adjustable  exit  from 
a  C.P.R.  distributing  ditch.  Using  discretion, 
the  farmer  makes  minor  ditches,  with  radiating 
plough  furrows  to  distribute  the  water  by 
gravitation  all  over  his  irrigable  land. 

My  inquiries  brought  to  light  two  incidental 
advantages  of  the  system.  In  the  previous 
year  a  prairie  fire  broke  out,  and  as  the  grass 


NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA        97 

was  dry,  it  threatened  to  spread  far,  and  involve 
valuable  crops.  The  water-gates  were  opened 
and  the  fire  was  promptly  extinguished. 

It  was  an  appreciative  housewife  who  first 
told  me  of  the  other  unforeseen  boon  provided 
by  artificial  watering.  The  Bow  River  is  full 
of  toothsome  fishes,  many  of  which  are  swept 
down  the  long  mileage  of  canals  and  ditches. 
Thus  the  farmer,  having  opened  his  water-gates 
overnight,  is  apt  next  morning  to  find,  flopping 
about  in  his  furrows,  a  welcome  change  in  the 
breakfast  dietary. 

"  I've  picked  up  some  five-pounders,"  one 
agricultural  gourmand  assured  me. 

Taking  the  train  from  Gleichen  to  Strath- 
more,  I  visited  the  C.P.R.  experimental  farm, 
where  Professor  W.  J.  Elliott,  besides  testing 
the  neighbourhood's  suitability  for  various 
kinds  of  grain  and  plants,  is  ever  at  hand  to 
solve  the  agricultural  doubts  and  difficulties 
of  C.P.R.  settlers.  I  found  him  besieged  by 
newly-established  farmers  eager  for  guidance  ; 
but  he  spared  time  to  take  me  rapidly  through 
his  plantations,  where  I  strove  to  share  his 
enthusiasm  over  some  white  hull-less  barley 
and  a  new  field  pea  for  hogs. 

My  drive  to  Nightingale  took  me  past  many 

The  Golden  Land.  Q 


98        NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA 

simple  homes  established  on  the  undulating 
prairie,  where  clusters  of  white  tents — camps 
of  the  railway  constructors — were  also  visible. 
For  Nightingale  was  soon  to  have  a  station 
and  two  lines  of  its  own.  Approaching  one 
of  these  canvas  villages,  I  saw,  on  crossing  a 
stream,  my  first  musk  rat .  The  gang,  it  seemed, 
had  just  captured  a  fine  black  bear.  Tethered 
to  a  post,  the  philosophic  creature  showed  no 
resentment  of  restraint. 

Ten  minutes  later  found  me  among  the  trim 
little  homes  of  Nightingale ;  and  soon  I  was 
lunching  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Carlton,  the  un- 
official mayor  and  mayoress  of  the  new  com- 
munity. He  was  a  poultry  farmer  of  Lowestoft, 
and  I  learnt  that  his  hundred  fellow-citizens 
include  a  butcher,  a  veterinary  surgeon,  a  pig 
breeder,  a  coal  merchant,  two  engineers,  a 
Scotch  gardener  with  a  large  family,  a  clerk, 
a  marine  surveyor,  a  retired  Indian  Civil  ser- 
vant, a  schoolmaster,  a  rural  innkeeper,  a  mate 
of  the  Merchant  Service,  a  Norfolk  farmer,  and 
a  piano  tuner.  That,  at  least,  is  what  they 
were  when,  six  months  before,  they  left  Great 
Britain.  Now  they  had  all  become  farmers. 

But  their  farming  is  not  to  be  of  the  familiar 
Canadian  kind — landscapes  of  grain.  Their 


NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA        99 

properties  average  eighty  acres.  Growing 
wheat  and  oats  for  an  easy  beginning,  they 
will  gradually  work  their  way,  to  the  more  com- 
pact industries  of  dairying,  poultry  farming, 
pig  raising,  and  market  gardening,  produc- 
ing only  as  much  grain  as  they  themselves  will 
require.  For  it  is  felt  that  this  irrigated  land 
affords  a  fine  opportunity  for  mixed  and  in- 
tensive farming. 

I  visited  about  a  dozen  of  Nightingale's 
citizens,  and  found  them  all  busy,  hopeful,  and 
jolly.  A  Cambridge  M.A.  was  digging  a  cellar 
and  whistling.  One  engineer  was  intent  on 
the  community's  flour -mill.  The  other  was 
wrestling  with  a  costly  petrol  machine  that 
will  plough  ten  acres  a  day — a  luxury  to  which 
the  community  had  just  treated  itself.  For 
Nightingale  has  already  perceived  the  wisdom 
of  co-operation.  It  saves  twenty  cents  a 
bushel  by  buying  its  seed  'in  bulk.  On  the 
day  of  my  visit  it  had  just  opened  its  co-opera- 
tive store,  and,  as  the  first  customer  from  with- 
out, I  made  my  historic  purchase  of  an  ounce 
of  tobacco. 

But  I  have  not  yet  explained  how  far  Sir 
Thomas  developed  his  idea.  When  these 
British  settlers  arrived  on  the  ground,  each 


ioo    NIGHTINGALE    IN    IRRICANA 

of  the  twenty-four  families  found,  not  only  their 
home  and  outhouses  built,  and  their  well  sunk, 
and  their  fences  up,  but  forty  of  their  acres 
ploughed  and  already  green  with  a  growing 
crop. 

It  was  stipulated  that  each  family  should 
possess  at  least  £200  wherewith  to  buy  imple- 
ments and  tide  over  the  initial  period  of  no 
returns.  The  cost  of  land,  buildings,  &c.,  was 
to  be  met  by  ten  annual  payments,  the  first 
not  being  due  until  a  remunerative  crop  had 
been  harvested. 

Colonisation  by  means  of  the  "  Ready-made 
Farm  "  is  to-day  an  idea  in  its  infancy.  It  may 
mark  an  epoch  in  the  development  of  Canada. 


CHAPTER    VII 

IN   A   LOGGING  CAMP 

Climbing  into  a  forest — Butterflies  and  burnt  trees — 
The  various  climates  of  British  Columbia — Asleep 
on  a  log — Our  arrival  at  the  camp — Exploring  the 
skidway — Disconcerting  experiences — The  falling 
tree — An  invitation  to  supper — A  strange  and  silent 
meal — "  Pass  the  carrots  " — A  race  of  semi- wild  cats 
— Ten  fluffy  black  kittens — Furtive  philanthropy — 
Sleeping  on  the  floor — An  early-morning  toilet — 
My  personally-conducted  tour — The  terrifying  cable 
— Meeting  a  rushing  log — Preoccupied  toilers — 
Shrieking  donkey  engines — Opening  up  a  new  road 
— A  sorely  tried  hook-tender — Buckers  and  snipers 
— How  I  nearly  broke  my  spine — Tree-felling  des- 
cribed— The  gold-miner's  story — A  backwoodsman's 
shack — An  arrival  of  venison — The  logs'  last 
journey. 

CROSSING  to  West  Vancouver  in  a  petrol 
launch,  my  brother  and  I  climbed  into  the 
forest  on  a  mammoth  ladder  two  miles  high. 
That,  at  least,  is  what  it  felt  like  to  be  tip- 


102  IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP 

toeing  from  sleeper  to  sleeper  up  a  cable  rail- 
way that  ascended  the  mountain  at  a  precipitous 
gradient. 

There  was  no  side  space  to  afford  one's  feet 
the  relief  of  even  ground.  Only  to  the  breadth 
of  the  sleepers  had  that  avenue  been  carved 
through  the  timber  jungle,  which  was  aglow 
with  the  bronzed  and  golden  foliage  of  autumn, 
the  vivid  greens  of  cedar,  fir,  and  hemlock, 
the  silvery  mosses  on  fallen  trunks  that  pro- 
truded amid  sub -tropical  undergrowth,  and  the 
towering  black  relics  of  burnt  trees  standing 
stark  against  the  sky — gaunt  monuments  of  a 
forest  fire  which  swept  the  mountain -side  some 
thirty  years  ago. 

It  was  hot  summer,  with  butterflies  about— 
a  matter  the  more  noteworthy  to  us  since,  two 
days  before,  trudging  through  a  foot  of  snow, 
we  were  in  a  region  where  icicles  two  feet  long 
hung  from  trees  and  rocks,  and  where,  amid 
the  clouds,  I  found  a  little  frozen  lake,  which 
was  a  picture  of  dainty  loveliness  in  the  white 
solitude.  And,  standing  in  a  garden  not  many 
miles  away,  I  afterwards  saw  branches  assisted 
by  more  than  one  prop  to  sustain  their  burden 
of  large  red  apples,  while  roses  and  sweet -peas, 
in  a  medley  of  other  familiar  flowers,  were 


IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP  103 

blooming  in  June  perfection.  For  in 
marvellous  British  Columbia  the  seasons  are 
a  matter  of  altitude  rather  than  of  the  calendar . 
Climbing  a  few  miles  of  mountain,  you  can 
always  find  hard  winter  at  midsummer  ;  bask- 
ing in  the  southern  plains  and  valleys — a 
district  destined  to  world-wide  fame  for  fruit- 
growing— you  enjoy  sunny  summer  far  into  the 
winter. 

But  to  return  to  the  physical  ordeal,  so  dis- 
tressing to  one's  instep,  of  labouring  up  that 
timbered  height  overlooking  the  Gulf  of 
Georgia.  After  about  an  hour  of  it,  limp 
and  perspiring,  I  lay  on  a  stupendous  log,  and 
fell  asleep — to  awaken  anon  in  better  shape 
for  resuming  my  ascent  of  that  pathway  of 
irregular  stairs,  which  tapered  to  a  remote  in- 
completeness in  the  overhead  perspective. 

At  last  we  came  to  a  little  wooden  hut, 
though  it  proved  to  be  unoccupied,  and  with 
the  door  shut.  Going  still  higher,  we  came 
to  another  little  wooden  hut — also  deserted,  but 
having  a  reassuring  clothes-line  with  socks  and 
a  shirt  hung  out  to  dry.  A  little  later  the  vista 
opened  on  a  clearing  in  the  forest,  where  the 
railway  ran  through  a  scene  littered  with  timber 
and  untidiness.  In  the  yellow  confusion  of 


104  IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP 

logs  and  bark  and  chips,  a  number  of  rough 
shanties  stood  inconspicuous.  For  they  were 
fashioned  out  of  split  cedar,  unplaned,  un- 
painted,  and  of  a  common  hue  with  the  chaotic 
surroundings . 

A  sturdy  old  greybeard  was  at  work  with 
an  adze  on  the  line.  Elsewhere  another 
veteran  was  slowly  chopping  wood.  A  bull 
terrier,  fortunately  chained,  demonstrated  hos- 
tility at  our  approach. 

We  had  arrived  at  the  logging  camp.  But 
where  was  the  foreman,  to  whom  I  bore  a 
letter  of  introduction? 

The  greybeard  pointed  to  where  the  railway 
disappeared  in  the  lofty  jungle — the  foreman, 
he  said,  was  away  up  there.  So  we  applied 
our  sore  feet  to  further  mountaineering.  Nor 
had  we  climbed  far  into  the  forest  shadows 
before  we  found  the  track  obstructed  by  strange 
machinery  on  wheels.  We  edged  past  the 
great  black  thing,  and  promptly  came  to  the 
end  of  the  rails.  But,  what  was  of  more 
moment  to  us,  here  was  another  wooden 
structure,  whence  came  sounds  of  human 
shouting,  and  of  blows  struck  upon  an  anvil. 
Indisposed  for  detailed  explanations  were  the 
half -naked  toilers  in  that  busy  forge.  I 


IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP  105 

gathered,  however,  that  the  foreman  was  higher 
up. 

The  railway  was  succeeded  by  a  log -way, 
felled  trees  being  sunk  in  the  ground  to  form 
a  gigantic  gutter.  Along  it  lay  a  stout  steel 
cable,  and  on  one  side,  a  few  feet  from  the 
ground,  ran  a  wire  loosely  hooked  to  tree- 
stumps.  We  plunged  on  through  the  narrow 
avenue,  made  treacherous  by  moss  and  mire 
and  running  water. 

Presently  there  occurred  an  incline  so  steep 
that,  to  avoid  falling  backwards,  we  had  to 
clamber  on  all  fours.  This  was  followed  by 
a  corresponding  declivity,  down  which  we  went 
floundering  at  an  accelerated  pace.  Below, 
among  the  rocks  and  ferns,  I  heard  a  tumbling 
torrent,  which  proved  to  be  spanned  by  a 
bridge  of  huge  tree-trunks. 

It  was  a  slow,  steep,  and  stubborn  climb 
up  the  opposite  side  of  the  ravine  ;  and  at  last 
we  came  to  another  piece  of  machinery,  not 
inert  like  the  last,  but  snorting,  steaming,  and 
whistling,  with  grimy  men  busy  about  it — 
though  the  purpose  of  their  activities  and 
shouting  was  by  no  means  clear  to  me.  It 
was  enough  that,  according  to  such  curt 
directions  as  they  vouchsafed,  the  official  I 


io6  IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP 

sought  was  somewhere  still  farther  along  the 
avenue,  which  now  branched  at  right  angles 
into  a  denser  region  of  forest.  Here  also  was 
the  raised  wire  on  our  left,  the  stout  steel  cable 
lying  at  our  feet,  and  a  second  cable,  of  in- 
ferior girth,  stretching  through  the  bushes  on 
our  right.  But  this  avenue  had  no  floor  of 
sunken  logs.  The  way  was  rugged  with  stones 
and  hillocks  and  the  stumps  of  newly-cut  trees . 
For  long  we  floundered  on  and  up  through 
our  slit  of  sunlight  in  that  realm  of  shadows 
and  green  transparency.  But  soon  I  paused 
irresolute  at  the  head  of  a  second  ravine  ;  and, 
peering  down  the  abrupt  slope,  we  saw  the 
parallel  lines  of  another  bridge  spanning  a 
waterway — great  trunks  in  reality,  but  looking 
mere  sticks  in  the  distance.  Voices  arose  from 
out  the  depths,  and  we  heard  the  echoing  blows 
of  an  axe.  A  minute  later,  high  up  I  saw  a 
moving  tree -top,  while  the  tiny  figures  of  men 
were  visible  below  as  they  suddenly  scurried. 
Following  a  shrieking  crescendo  of  tearing 
branches  and  splitting  wood,  a  tree  went  crash- 
ing down  with  a  report  like  thunder.  And 
behold  !  it  had  fallen  with  precise  accuracy 
to  form  the  sixth  section  in  that  bridge  of 
logs. 


IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP  107 

The  sequel  was  tame.  All  the  men,  now 
with  their  coats  on,  and  carrying  tin  cans,  came 
helter-skelter  up  the  slope.  In  the  procession 
that  filed  past  me  so  rapidly  I  soon  had  picked 
out  the  foreman.  Crunching  my  letter  in  his 
pocket,  he  bade  us  follow  him  ;  which  we  did, 
wondering  what  so  much  expedition  might 
signify.  Floundering  and  slipping,  but  escap- 
ing the  expected  fall,  we  were  hot  on  his 
heels  upon  reaching  the  camp,  now  growing 
dim  with  evening  shadows.  A  big  timber 
structure  had  swallowed  the  procession  of  re- 
turning toilers.  The  foreman  was  on  its 
threshold  when,  noting  that  we  had  paused,  he 
shot  over  his  shoulder  the  terse  invitation,  "  I 
guess  there's  room  for  you." 

The  interior  was  bare  as  a  large  wooden 
building  can  be.  Some  thirty  dirty  men  sat 
silently  eating  at  a  long  trestle  table.  By 
gesture,  the  foreman  directed  us  to  fill  empty 
places  that  occurred  in  one  line  of  feasters, 
he  himself  going  to  the  other  end  of  the 
opposite  bench. 

In  stepping  across  the  meagre  area  of  vacant 
seat,  I  was  so  unfortunate  as  to  give  my  right- 
hand  neighbour  a  gentle,  but  muddy,  kick. 
At  my  apologies,  his  blank  astonishment, 


io8  IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP 

unaccompanied  by  comment,  confirmed  a 
misgiving  that,  without  preparation  or  pre- 
meditation, I  had  blundered  into  a  society  ruled 
by  an  etiquette  of  which  I  did  not  know  the 
rudiments.  So  I  glanced  about  me  with  the 
anxious  eye  of  a  novice.  Nor,  as  I  soon  per- 
ceived, was  there  any  need  to  scrutinise  my 
surroundings  by  stealth.  No  one  heeded  the 
strangers  ;  all,  with  gaze  fixed  on  their  plates, 
gave  full  attention  to  the  meal  that  in  Canada  is 
known  as  supper.  A  plate  and  cup  and  saucer, 
with  knife,  fork,  and  spoon — all  of  iron — were 
before  me.  The  table  was  crowded  with  large 
metal  pans — of  which  the  contents  varied  from 
baked  meat  to  stewed  prunes — supplemented 
by  large  metal  jugs. 

For  half  a  minute  I  was  uncertain  how  to 
begin.  Then  I  had  my  clue  from  a  near  neigh- 
bour, who  abruptly  put  out  an  arm  and 
captured  a  slice  of  beef  with  his  fork,  assisted 
by  his  thumb.  I  put  out  my  arm  and  my 
fork,  and  soon  had  acquired  selected  samples 
of  the  food  within  reach.  For  long  the  only 
sounds  were  those  incidental  to  eating.  But 
occasionally  the  silence  was  broken  by  an  un- 
compromising "  Pass  the  carrots  "  or  "  Pass 
the  tea." 


IN   A    LOGGING  CAMP  109 

On  leaving  the  dining-hall,  I  introduced 
myself  to  the  camp  storekeeper,  whom  I  dis- 
covered in  the  act  of  nursing  a  little  black 
kitten.  Under  examination  he  reluctantly  told 
me  how  the  mother  cat  came  to  be  there. 

Last  year  a  man  was  seen  walking  to  the 
waterside  and  carrying  a  wriggling  sack. 
Following  an  exchange  of  personalities,  pussy 
was  rescued  and  brought  into  camp  ;  and  in 
this  connection  I  heard  of  the  race  of  semi- 
wild  cats  which,  originating  from  pets  that 
stayed  behind  when  logging  parties  moved  on, 
now  roam  the  forests  of  British  Columbia,  to 
the  detriment  of  partridges  and  other  game. 
With  that  strain  in  the  parentage,  what  wonder 
that,  as  the  storekeeper  mentioned,  he  can 
catch  only  one  of  the  ten  little  kittens  that 
live  under  his  floor? 

After  an  awkward  pause,  the  storekeeper 
stepped  to  the  adjoining  shed,  and,  having 
suffered  his  nursling  to  depart  through  a  hole 
in  the  wall,  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a  plentiful 
supply  of  meat  and  placed  it  on  the  ground. 

"  Some  one's  got  to  feed  them,"  he  apolo- 
gised, "  and  as  they  live  at  my  place  the  job 
falls  to  me." 

Here  the  storekeeper  was   called  away  to 


no  IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP 

supply  a  customer  with  tobacco,  and  it  chanced 
that  I  took  a  temporary  seat  within  the  shadow 
of  a  wood  pile.  Unseen  myself,  I  presently 
witnessed  the  slow  and  casual  approach  of  a 
man  who,  on  reaching  the  shed,  went  in  hastily 
and  threw  something  down  beside  the  entrance 
to  the  kitten's  covert ;  which  done,  he  lost 
no  time  in  absconding. 

Presently  there  came  loitering'  to  the  scene 
another  man,  whom  I  recognised  for  one  of 
my  neighbours  at  the  supper  table.  He  paused 
at  the  shed,  and  turned  to  glance  behind  him. 
Then  that  rough  old  lumber-jack  stepped 
inside,  and  he,  too,  made  his  contribution  to 
the  breakfast  of  ten  little  fluffy  black  kittens. 
How  many  other  furtive  philanthropists  came 
that  way  I  cannot  tell,  for,  when  the  coast  was 
clear,  I  emerged  from  my  seclusion  with  the 
guilty  feeling  of  one  who  has  stolen  a  secret. 

That  night  my  brother  and  I  lay  on  the 
floor  of  the  store,  amid  apples,  boots,  and 
canned  salmon,  having  first  availed  ourselves 
of  permission  to  help  ourselves,  so  far  as 
blankets  were  concerned,  from  the  stock  of 
the  establishment.  The  foreman  and  store- 
keeper, who  occupied  wooden  bunks  in  the 
same  apartment,  warned  us  before  turning  out 


.:• 


WHEN   MY   BROTHER  WAS  SKETCHING   THE   CAMP"    (PAGE    III). 


IN   A    LOGGING   CAMP  in 

the  light  that,  if  we  wanted  any  breakfast,  we 
should  have  to  rise  when  they  did. 

Dawn  was  competing  with  night  when,  open- 
ing a  sleepy  eye  upon  an  unfamiliar  scene, 
I  found  the  foreman  sluicing  his  face  over 
a  metal  basin  set  upon  a  box — which  done, 
and  to  prepare  the  way  for  some  one  else's 
toilet,  he  emptied  the  basin  through  a  crack 
in  the  floor. 

Thus  at  chilly  daybreak,  re-entering  the 
large  wooden  shed,  we  broke  our  fast  with 
the  same  thirty  silent  men  in  whose  company 
we  had  supped  overnight.  But  not  till  two 
hours  later,  when  my  brother  was  sketching 
the  camp,  did  I  accept  the  storekeeper's  invita- 
tion to  go  with  him  and  see  the  men  at  work. 
That  he  found  himself  at  leisure  was  due,  it 
seemed,  to  a  special  state  of  affairs.  In 
addition  to  running  the  store,  he  had  to  measure 
the  logs.  But  to-day  there  were  no  logs  to 
measure,  the  men  having  recently  been  en- 
gaged on  the  arduous  task,  always  rich  in  per- 
plexing enigmas,  of  extending  their  sphere  of 
operations  across  a  ravine — which  circumstance 
doubtless  explained  a  certain  terseness  that 
had  been  observable  in  the  foreman's  con- 
versation. 


ii2  IN   A   LOGGING  CAMP 

"  Getting  the  first  logs  to  run  along  a  new 
skidway  is  always  a  job,"  said  the  storekeeper, 
as  we  ascended  the  treacherous  avenue  I  trod 
on  the  previous  evening.  "Be  careful  how 
you  go.  Keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  cable. 
It  might  stun  any  one  if  it  hit  them." 

Ever  since  we  passed  the  donkey  engine, 
my  eye  had  been  on  that  cable.  Last  night  it 
had  lain  passive  in  the  slime  and  mosses.  This 
morning  it  was  possessed  by  a  spirit  of  feverish 
unrest :  now  leaping  on  a  quick  tension,  to 
sway  and  shudder  in  the  air ;  now  jerking 
higher  or  lower,  without  the  hint  of  a  warning  ; 
now  thumping  back  to  earth,  perhaps  wide 
of  where  it  rose . 

"And  suppose  it  broke?"  I  protested. 

"  That  does  happen  sometimes,"  said  the 
storekeeper.  '  You  see,  when  it  is  hauling 
a  ten -ton  log  at  full  steam  and  the  log  fouls 
with  a  rock,  something's  got  to  give,  and  it's 
usually  the  cable.  Then  the  broken  ends  fly 
back,  and  it  wouldn't  be  nice  to  be  hit  by  one 
of  them.  But  of  course  the  men  know  when 
it's  best  to  stand  clear." 

I  could  picture  the  possibility  of  standing 
clear.  What  worried  me  was  the  impossibility 
of  keeping  clear  whilst  moving.  The  trees, 


IN   A    LOGGING   CAMP  113 

upright  and  fallen,  barred  one's  way  outside  the 
narrow  width  in  which  that  steel  cord  was  per- 
forming its  treacherous  stratagems. 

But  the  storekeeper's  words  hinted  at  a 
development  of  which  we  were  now  promised 
an  illustration.  On  a  sudden  the  cable,  with- 
out ceasing  to  leap  and  sway,  became  a  flash- 
ing line  of  undefined  coils,  and  we  perceived 
that  it  was  travelling  rapidly  in  a  contrary 
direction  to  ourselves. 

Simultaneously  there  was  a  rustle  of  leaves 
and  twigs,  and  I  noticed  that  the  cable  of 
inferior  girth  was  tearing  its  way  through  the 
jungle  on  our  right. 

'  They  are  connected,  you  see,"  said  the 
storekeeper,  "  and  they  run  through  a  winch 
half  a  mile  from  the  donkey  engine,  which 
hauls  one  in  while  it  pays  the  other"  out." 

"  And  what  is  this  for  ?  "  I  asked,  pointing 
to  the  thin  wire  that  ran  within  reach  on  the 
left  of  the  skidway. 

"  Don't  touch  it  !  "  said  the  storekeeper. 
'  That's  the  signalling  wire  by  which  the  men 
on  ahead  communicate  with  the  engine  behind 
us.  ...  Here !  Follow  me." 

Heedless  of  thorns,  moss,  and  dignity,  I 
scrambled  after  him  into  the  jungle — and  only 


The  Golden  Land. 


ii4  IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP 

just  in  time.  Part  of  a  tree,  huge  and  heavy, 
went  thundering  and  blundering  along  the 
pathway  we  had  just  vacated.  Then  we 
resumed  our  journey. 

After  patiently  facing  danger  for  half  an 
hour,  my  natural  optimism  induced  me  to 
believe  that  twenty  yards  ahead,  where  we  saw 
human  figures  and  another  donkey  engine, 
safety  awaited  us.  But  the  storekeeper  said  : 

"  Of  course  this  part  is  all  right.  It's  when 
we  get  on  to  the  new  skidway  that  we've  got 
to  be  a  bit  careful." 

I  never  felt  more  like  climbing  up  a  tree 
to  get  out  of  the  way.  But  there  are  times 
when  it  is  best  to  disguise  one's  emotions  ; 
and,  making  no  comment,  I  pushed  doggedly 
on. 

We  spoke  to  the  men  when  we  reached  the 
head  of  the  skidway ;  but,  apart  from  muttered 
irrelevancies,  they  made  no  reply.  Their  minds 
and  muscles  were  engaged  by  a  log  that 
was  openly  defying  the  shrieking  donkey 
engine . 

There  being  nothing  to  detain  us,  we  con- 
tinued our  journey  into  the  newly-carved 
avenue.  The  last  I  heard  of  the  busy  toilers 
was  one  of  them  shouting  that  we  had  better 


IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP  115 

be  careful  or  we  might  get  our  necks  broken — 
an  admonition  that  failed  to  serve  as  a  nerve 
sedative. 

Half  way  down  the  new  skidway  we  met 
the  overwrought  and  gesticulating  foreman ; 
and  it  was  from  behind  a  stronghold  of  Douglas 
firs  that  we  saw  a  gigantic  log  come  jerkily 
and  drunkenly  up  the  incline,  butting  at 
boulders,  colliding  with  trees,  ploughing  up 
fountains  of  earth  and  stones,  rolling  far  out 
of  the  appointed  course,  and  smashing  and 
crashing  its  way  through  the  thicket. 

To  see  such  work  on  hand,  such  stupendous 
forces  in  play,  makes  a  man  feel  insignificant, 
feeble,  and  helpless.  At  least,  I  am  speaking 
for  myself — certainly  not  for  the  foreman, 
whose  eyes  were  on  fire  with  self-reliance  and 
a  determination  to  win  against  all  odds  and 
hazards . 

"  Now  that's  gone  through,"  commented  the 
storekeeper,  "  he'll  feel  ever  so  much  more 
comfortable  in  his  mind.  The  road  will  soon 
work  all  right  now.  Every  log  makes  it  easier 
for  the  next.  I  daresay,  though,  we  shall  find 
the  hook-tender  pretty  sick." 

Five  minutes  later,  when  we  had  come  to 
the  end  of  the  avenue,  the  hook -tender  figured 


ii6  IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP 

prominently  in  a  group  of  men — known  in  the 
profession  as  chasers — who  were  toiling,  per- 
spiring, and  shouting.  They  had  taken  off 
their  coats,  they  had  taken  off  their  shirts,  and 
they  were  prepared,  I  do  not  doubt,  to  rid 
themselves  of  any  other  garment,  if  only  that 
would  assist  matters. 

Once  get  a  log  on  the  skidway  and,  as 
we  have  seen,  the  cable  can  do  the  rest.  But 
you  must  first  drag  your  log  from  among  all 
the  other  logs  that  cumber  the  ground. 

The  hook-tender  connected  his  tackle  and 
bade  the  donkey-driver  put  on  full  power  ;  but 
the  engine  advanced  towards  the  log  instead 
of  the  log  advancing  towards  the  engine. 

It  seemed  unkind  to  be  looking  on  ;  so  the 
storekeeper  and  I  journeyed  forward,  crawling 
and  sprawling  from  one  felled  tree  to  another 
in  that  area  of  mangled  forest. 

Should  I  ever  belong  to  a  logging  camp, 
I  should  wish  to  be  either  a  bucker  or  a  sniper. 
The  work  of  both  is  free  from  heart-breaking 
hindrances .  Into  convenient  lengths  the  former 
saws  the  trees  ;  then  the  latter  chops  round 
the  extremity  of  each  log,  to  facilitate  its  pro- 
gress on  the  skidway.  We  came  across  two 
mossy  snipers  who,  without  desisting  from 


IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP  117 

their  invigorating  toil,  gave  us  complacent 
greetings. 

I  admired  the  sure-footed  way  in  which  my 
companion  leaped  from  one  recumbent  tree  to 
another  ;  but  attempted  emulation  nearly  cost 
me  a  broken  spine. 

"  I  ought  to  have  told  you,"  murmured  the 
sympathetic  storekeeper,  "  that  our  boots  have 
spikes  in  the  soles." 

Finally  we  came  to  the  felling,  which  proved 
a  test  of  one's  nerves  and  faith.  There  is  a 
first  feller  and  a  second  feller  ;  and,  seated 
on  a  mammoth  cedar,  we  saw  how  they  earned 
their  four  dollars  a  day. 

One  would  suppose  that  the  solid  earth  was 
the  place  for  a  man  to  stand  on  while  cutting 
down  a  tree.  But  no;  the  fellers  of  British 
Columbia  begin  by  providing  themselves  with 
perches.  A  few  deft  blows  with  the  axe  cut 
a  notch  in  the  tree  several  feet  from  the  ground . 
That  notch  receives  one  end  of  a  short  length 
of  wood  a  few  inches  wide  and  very  tough  and 
elastic.  Standing  on  those  projecting  spring- 
boards— of  which  the  position  can  be  altered, 
within  a  limited  radius,  by  expert  feet — the  two 
fellers,  with  alternate  strokes  of  their  axes, 
make  a  wide,  gaping  incision  in  the  trunk. 


u8  IN   A   LOGGING  CAMP 

This  is  the  "  under-cut,"  to  control  the  fall. 
Precisely  where  it  will  be  most  advantageous 
to  lay  the  tree  (it  must  not  fall  across  a  log, 
for  fear  of  fracture)  the  first  feller  has  already 
decided.  Note  him  insert  his  axe  in  the 
"  under-cut  "  and  spy  along  the  handle.  He 
is  "  sighting,"  and,  if  this  observation  show 
the  need,  he  will  slice  more  deeply  on  one 
side  or  other  of  the  yawning  chasm. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  it  won't  fall  over  here  ? " 
I  asked  the  storekeeper ;  for  the  tree  looked 
sixty  feet  high  and  we  were  not  ten  yards 
away. 

4  We're  safe  enough,"  rejoined  the  store- 
keeper. '  That  man  always  knows  to  half  a 
foot  where  he  will  throw  a  tree." 

Already  the  two  toilers  were  sawing  through 
the  trunk  from  the  opposite  side  to  the  "  under- 
cut." They  stopped;  and  the  first  feller, 
sweeping  back  his  black  locks,  and  putting 
an  open  palm  to  his  cheek,  bawled  : 

"  O-ho  !     Look  out  down  hill  !     O-ho  !  " 

The  echoes  died  away,  and  we  all  listened 
to  the  silence  of  the  forest. 

"  Is  any  one  there,  do  you  think?  "  I  whis- 
pered. 

"  There  might  be  a  swamper,"  said  the  store- 


IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP  119 

keeper.  "  I  think  I  heard  one  a  few  minutes 
ago.  Swampers,  you  know,  go  round  cutting 
things  out  of  the  way." 

The  sawing  was  resumed.  It  continued  for 
several  minutes.  Then  once  more  the  first 
feller  shouted  his  solemn  warning  down  into 
the  maze  of  trees. 

Three  more  strokes  of  the  saw  and  it  was 
swiftly  withdrawn.  The  fellers  had  leaped  to 
the  ground,  and  were  beating  a  quick  retreat. 
The  tree  was  moving,  and  in  the  expected 
direction,  but  how  slowly,  silently,  and  calmly  ! 
Within  the  measure  of  the  next  three  beats  of 
my  pulse,  what  din  and  havoc  were  caused 
by  the  law  of  gravitation  and  that  thirty-ton 
column  of  timber !  At  the  awful  thud,  I 
felt  the  crust  of  the  earth  shudder  beneath 
me. 

The  experience  affects  one  with  a  sense  of 
man's  power — and  presumption.  Nature  is 
occupied  through  many  a  decade  in  slowly  up- 
raising those  magnificent  trees,  strong  to  with- 
stand the  sternest  tempest.  But  here  was  that 
feller,  with  his  axe  and  his  saw  and  his  bottle 
of  oil,  heeling  them  over,  one  after  the  other, 
like  ninepins . 

I  was  glad  to  return  into  camp.     It  came 


120  IN   A   LOGGING  CAMP 

as  a  gracious  relief  to  be  seated  on  a  rock  in 
the  sunshine,  listening  while  the  old  greybeard 
told  me  the  strange  story  of  his  life. 

It  seemed  he  had  been  a  gold-miner,  off 
and  on,  ever  since  he  arrived  as  a  lad  from 
England,  nearly  fifty  years  ago.  He  had  kept 
single  for  the  sake  of  the  gold,  on  which  his 
dreams,  his  ambition,  and  his  energies  had 
focussed.  He  had  worked  for  long  spells  in 
logging  camps  ;  he  had  endured  privations  on 
protracted  railway  and  Government  surveys  ; 
he  had  spent  solitary  seasons  trapping  the  mink, 
the  beaver,  and  the  silver  fox.  But  logging, 
surveying,  and  trapping  had  been  but  means 
to  an  end.  With  the  savings  he  accumulated 
in  those  vocations,  he  would  go  back  to  the 
gold-fields  and  try  yet  another  claim. 

"  Always  with  the  same  result,"  deplored  the 
old  man.  "  Others  would  do  well ;  but  never 
me.  I  could  name  men  worth  their  hundreds 
of  thousands  who  have  worked  next  to  me 
in  the  creek.  They  struck  it;  I  missed  it. 
Of  course  sometimes  I  arrived  too  late,  when 
all  the  best  claims  were  taken.  I  arrived  too 
late  at  the  Klondike.  But  mostly  it  has  been 
sheer  bad  luck.  The  stuff  might  pan  out  just 
to  keep  me  going  for  a  few  months,  but  sooner 


IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP  121 

or  later  I  always  went  broke,  and  had  to  begin 
all  over  again  to  get  a  few  hundred  dollars 
together,  ready  for  another  start.  It's  been 
lumbering  I've  turned  to  for  the  last  fifteen 
years.  For  when  a  man's  over  sixty,  he's  not 
so  ready  to  take  things  rough  as  when  he  was 
younger.  In  these  camps  you  get  your  victuals 
cooked  for  you,  and  a  roof  over  your  head. 
A  man  appreciates  such  conveniences  when 
he's  getting  on  in  years." 

"  Surely  you  won't  bother  any  more  about 
g  old -mining  ?"  I  suggested. 

The  old  fellow  did  not  at  once  reply,  and 
when  he  did  so  his  head  was  hanging  and 
his  voice  was  low. 

"  It  was  my  seventy-third  birthday,"  he  said, 
"  when  I  gave  up  my  last  claim.  Not  that 
I  had  any  thought  it  was  to  be  the  last.  But 
when  I  came  in  here — well,  well,  they  meant 
it  kindly — they  wouldn't  let  me  do  my  share 
on  the  skidway.  So  my  job  is  to  stay  in  camp 
and  sharpen  the  saws — out  of  harm's  way.  It 
set  me  thinking  that  perhaps  it's  time  I  gave 
in.  Then  I've  had  another  thought — if  I'd  only 
kept  all  my  savings,  I'd  be  a  rich  man  to-day. 
But  all  my  life  I've  been  pouring  gold  into 
the  gravel,  instead  of  getting  gold  out  of  it. 


122  IN   A   LOGGING  CAMP 

No  ;  I  won't  go  back  to  the  creek.  When  I've 
done  here  I'll  have  a  bit  by  me — enough  to 
get  half  an  acre  of  land  somewhere  and  keep 
a  few  hens.  They'll  maybe  see  the  old  man 
through  to  the  end." 

For  several  minutes  he  filed  at  his  saw  with- 
out speaking.  Then,  looking  up  with  a  smile, 
he  said : 

"  If  I  had  my  time  over  again,  do  you  know 
what  I'd  do?  Why,  just  what  I  have  done. 
There  is  nothing  to  equal  a  life  in  the  woods. 
As  to  the  cities — ugh  !  Sometimes  I'll  go  and 
stay  at  Vancouver.  But  after  two  days  of  it 
I  get  fidgety  and  have  to  come  away.  Why, 
there's  nothing  to  do  there  !  Out  in  the  woods 
a  man  can  always  find  something  to  occupy 
him,  if  it's  only  putting  a  patch  on  his 
trousers,  or  turning  to  and  washing  his 
shirt.  Come  and  see  an  old  backwoods- 
man's cabin." 

He  led  me  into  his  cedar  shack — a  simple 
interior  with  a  stove  and  two  bunks,  one  for 
himself  and  one  for  his  dog. 

I  noted  the  weapon  lying  across  his  pillow. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  always  have  my  gun  in 
bed  with  me." 

Hearing  a  sudden  commotion,  we  both  went 


^& 


IN   A   LOGGING  CAMP  123 

hurrying  to  the  door.  Two  strange  sights  com- 
peted for  my  attention. 

The  storekeeper,  as  I  knew,  had  recently 
gone  forth  in  quest  of  game.  He  had  just 
returned,  triumphantly  dragging  a  slain  deer 
that  looked  as  large  as  himself. 

My  view  of  the  sportsman  and  his  quarry 
was,  however,  soon  obstructed  by  an  ugly 
roofed  locomotive — clearly  the  great  black 
machine  I  had  passed  overnight — which  was 
slowly  descending  the  railway,  and  hauling  a 
procession  of  twenty  enormous  logs. 

Bidding  the  old  man  a  hurried  farewell,  I 
walked  down  the  two  miles  of  sleepers  in  the 
wake  of  that  remarkable  train.  The  engine 
came  to  a  standstill  on  the  picturesque  little 
pier,  but  the  logs  were  side-tracked  into  the 
water .  With  many  others,  they  were  afterwards 
lashed  into  a  gigantic  raft,  which  a  tug  towed 
away  to  a  Vancouver  sawmill. 

My  outline  of  life  and  work  in  a  logging 
camp  (and  in  a  logging  camp  situated  on  un- 
usually difficult  ground)  will  illustrate  one 
never-failing  opening  for  labour  in  British 
Columbia,  Northern  Ontario,  and  other  districts 
of  Canada. 

A  man  who  has  taken  up  land  may  find  it 


i24  IN   A   LOGGING   CAMP 

necessary,  during  early  stages  of  development, 
to  devote  part  of  his  time  to  wage -earning. 
He  has  his  opportunity  in  the  logging- 
camps.  Lacking  previous  experience,  of  course 
he  will  not  be  engaged  as  foreman,  hook-tender, 
or  feller.  But,  if  he  be  not  afraid  of  work, 
he  will  be  welcomed  into  the  fraternity  of 
lumber-jacks,  and  be  paid  from  ten  to  twelve 
shillings  a  day. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FRUIT  GROWING   IN    B.   C. 

A  nonagenarian  immigrant — The  hand  of  destiny  :  a 
remarkable  story  of  derelict  orchards— An  outlaw 
and  his  plush  frame — Why  Mr.  Johnstone's  visitors 
stayed  to  dinner  —  The  smothered  apple-trees  — 
Pioneer  work  at  Nelson — A  rescued  plantation — 
The  unknown  genius — A  mining  town  in  a  new 
character — Sir  T.  Shaughnessy  and  the  challenge 
cup — Apples  of  juicy  sweetness — My  lesson  in  fruit- 
packing — "  Back-to-the-land  "  enthusiasm  in  B.  C. — 
Orchard  of  an  English  lady — From  four  Ibs.  to 
four  car-loads  of  prunes — Overburdened  trees,  and 
how  they  are  treated — The  testimony  of  the  forests 
— My  feast  of  blackberries — Lofty  raspberry-canes 
— Settlers  from  Cornwall — Their  stages  of  evolution 
— Fruit  ranches  in  exquisite  scenery — Searching  for 
the  best  location — Profits  from  orchards — What  the 
beginner  may  expect  —  Hints  to  intending  immi- 
grants— The  minimum  capital  necessary — Average 
price  of  cleared  land — Blasting  the  roots — Cost  of 
a  modest  house — How  to  succeed  with  fruit  and 
poultry — A  warning. 

PROBABLY  Canada's  oldest  immigrant  is  the 
Rev.   Mr.  Johnstone,  who  arrived  at  Nelson, 


126      FRUIT   GROWING   IN    B.   C. 

in  British  Columbia,  at  the  age  of  ninety-seven . 
He  had  been  there  five  years  when,  talking 
with  me,  he  stretched  forth  a  hand  of  bene- 
diction towards  the  red  and  golden  orchard, 
where  his  youngest  grandchild— Baby  of  the 
laughing  mouth — was  picking  peaches.  Often 
in  mid -winter,  the  old  minister  told  me,  he 
is  out  upon  the  veranda ;  for  he  has  a  Scotch- 
man's appreciation  of  sunshine.  A  generous 
enthusiasm  for  the  land  of  his  tardy  adoption 
is,  however,  kept  within  the  bounds  of  common 
sense  :  "  Aye,  sir,  Canada's  a  glorious  coun- 
try, but  it  isn't  Edinburgh." 

All  of  which  has  to  do  with  the  growing  of 
apples .  For,  after  his  successful  adventure  out 
West,  the  son  tried  to  live  with  his  father  in 
Scotland.  But  the  call  of  the  fruit  and  the 
freedom  was  not  to  be  withstood  ;  and  the  end 
of  it  was  that  the  father  came  out  to  live  with 
his  son  in  Canada. 

And  note  how  curiously  a  love  of  horticulture 
has  moulded  the  mining  career  of  Nelson's 
fruit  pioneer.  Having  won  his  spurs  at  rail- 
way construction  in  British  Columbia,  James 
Johnstone  accepted  a  tempting  offer  to  cross 
the  border,  and  try  his  hand  at  that  business 
in  the  mountainous  region — infested  by  bandits 


FRUIT   GROWING   IN    B.   C.       127 

who  objected  to  trains — where  East  and  West 
Virginia  abut  on  Kentucky  and  Tennessee. 
That  he  succeeded  where  others  had  failed  was 
due  to  his  tact,  of  which  I  will  give  a  startling 
instance . 

The  chief  of  the  outlaws  was  human  enough 
to  take  a  pride  in  the  photographs  of  five 
relatives  he  had  been  inhuman  enough  to  slay. 
Johnstone  presented  him  with  a  plush  frame 
having  five  apertures  of  suitable  size  for  dis- 
playing those  grim  mementoes,  and  thence- 
forth the  young  contractor  had  nothing  to  fear 
from  the  miscreant  and  his  minions. 

Meanwhile  Johnstone  was  devoting  spare 
time  to  the  garden  that  supplied  his  table  with 
small  fruits  and  vegetables,  and  thereby  assisted 
him  to  win  a  singular  reputation.  Occasional 
visitors  to  that  backward  region,  and  notably 
the  wealthy  owner  of  its  mineral  resources,  got 
into  the  habit  of  seeking  hospitality  at  the  only, 
house  where  a  civilised  meal  could  be  obtained. 
And  one  day,  in  a  spirit  of  reciprocity,  that 
guest  granted  his  host  the  free  choice  of  a 
coal  concession. 

Johnstone  rode  out  to  make  his  selection, 
and  on  coming  to  a  ruined  shack,  and  liking 
the  look  of  the  land  for  a  garden,  he  wan- 


128       FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.   C. 

dered  in  the  scrub,  and  was  amazed  to  find 
the  half-suffocated  relics  of  a  long-forgotten 
orchard.  That  settled  it ;  the  adjoining  terri- 
tory became  Johnstone's  remunerative  mine, 
and  the  fruit-trees  blossomed  again.  And  in 
time,  having  recrossed  the  border  a  well-to-do 
man,  he  made  his  home  in  beautiful  Nelson, 
then  merely  a  mining  town. 

People  said  Johnstone  must  surely  be  crazy 
when,  having  bought  land  on  the  other  side  of 
the  lake,  he  announced  his  intention  to  grow 
apples  there.  But  to-day,  when  Nelson  is 
almost  hemmed  in  by  thriving  orchards,  John- 
stone  is  honoured  as  fruit  pioneer  of  the  district 
—a  title  that  sets  him  shaking  his  head.  And 
certainly  there  are,  among  his  productive  trees, 
many  obviously  older  than  his  occupation  of 
the  land  :  of  which  state  of  things  the  explana- 
tion is  identified  with  a  coincidence  almost 
uncanny.  For  ere  he  bought  the  property,  he 
found  there  another  derelict  hut  and  another 
buried  orchard. 

Of  the  veritable  pioneer,  Johnstone  knows 
only  that  he  was  a  Swiss  and  a  genius. 
Pomological  experts  have  just  proclaimed  the 
discovery  that,  to  ensure  adequate  pollination 
of  Spitzenberg,  it  must  be  planted  in  close 


FRUIT   GROWING   IN    B.   C.        129 

association  with  the  red-cheeked  pippin.  Now, 
therefore,  Johnstone  understands  why  he  has 
taken  so  many  first  prizes  with  his  inherited 
trees  of  the  former  variety,  each  of  which  he 
found  growing  next  to  one  of  the  latter.  Now, 
also,  he  understands  why,  in  every  hollow  of  the 
old  orchard,  a  Mclntosh  was  planted — experi- 
ence revealing  that  kind  as  peculiarly  sensitive 
to  wind. 

I  tell  this  story  of  cultural  beginnings  at 
Nelson  because  it  is  typical — in  essence,  though 
not,  of  course,  in  detail — of  cultural  beginnings 
elsewhere  in  British  Columbia.  At  first  there 
has  been  local  scepticism  for  the  pioneer  to 
face.  Later  there  has  been  outside  scepticism 
for  the  locality  to  face. 

"•  I  thought,"  cried  Sir  Thomas  Shaughnessy 
— when  pressing  persuasion  had  brought  him 
to  Nelson's  first  fruit  show — "  that  it  was  all  a 
joke  about  your  gardening.  Why  " — as  his 
eye  roamed  over  the  stages  of  glorious  apples 
"  these  are  more  interesting  than  your  ores  "  ; 
and,  to  excite  emulation  in  local  orchards, 
he  straightway  went  off  and  ordered  a  silver 
challenge-cup— forgetting  in  his  enthusiasm,  as 
he  afterwards  confessed,  to  place  any  limit  to 
the  cost. 

The  Golden  Land.  1  Q 


130      FRUIT   GROWING   IN    B.   C. 

Nelson  certainly  came  as  a  delightful  and 
almost  droll  surprise  to  me,  who  spent  three 
days  there  some  eight  years  before.  For  on  re- 
visiting a  mining  town  one  is  unprepared  to 
meet  boys  bearing  superb  bouquets  through  the 
streets,  and  to  see  real  estate  offices  aglow 
with  large  red  apples,  not  to  mention  suburban 
gardens  full  of  laden  fruit-trees  and  magnifi- 
cent flowers. 

But  the  appeal  to  the  eye  is,  comparatively, 
speaking,  of  small  importance.  Visiting 
orchards  in  various  districts  of  British 
Columbia,  I  tasted  snows  and  spies  of  a 
juicy  sweetness  that  my  memory  positively 
gloats  over.  There  may  be  finer-flavoured 
apples  in  the  world,  but  I  have  never  tasted 
them  ;  and,  owning  an  English  orchard  of  com- 
mercial dimensions,  I  can  at  least  claim  to  have 
a  palate  of  some  experience. 

I  watched  Mrs.  Johnstone  pack  the  carefully 
graded  apples  for  market — a  privilege  I  wish 
some  of  my  fruit-growing  friends  could  have 
shared.  In  conscientious  Canada  fruit-pack- 
ing ranks  as  an  art ;  and  for  proficiency  in 
this  art  that  lady  has  won  a  gold  medal.  The 
boxes  are  of  regulation  size,  and  are  sold  in 
parts  to  be  nailed  together.  A  supreme 


FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.   C.       131 

obligation  is  so  to  place  the  unblemished  fruits, 
wrapped  individually  in  paper,  that  they,  com- 
pletely fill  the  receptacle,  without  undue 
pressure  of  upper  rows  on  lower,  and  with  the 
requisite  outward  curve  on  the  elastic  top 
boards  to  compensate  for  shrinking  in  transit ; 
the  proof  of  efficiency  being  that,  on  arrival  at 
their  destination,  all  shall  be  free  from  even 
the  smallest  bruise. 

At  hotels  and  on  trains,  the  bulk  of  the 
talk  is  in  eastern  Canada  of  dollars,  in  central 
Canada  of  bushels,  and  in  western  Canada  of 
orchards.  When  I  previously  crossed  the 
Dominion,  British  Columbia  was  glorying 
merely  in  its  unrivalled  timber,  fisheries, 
scenery,  and  mineral  resources.  To-day  fruit 
is  a  fifth  feather  in  its  cap. 

A  "  back-to -the -land  "  enthusiasm  is  spread- 
ing through  all  classes.  The  merchant  has 
discovered  the  delight  of  living  with  his  family 
in  choice  rural  spots  amid  mauve  mountains 
and  beside  lovely  lakes  ;  his  joy  springing  from 
a  knowledge  that  the  new  home,  with  its  sur- 
rounding plantation,  is  not  merely  pleasant  but 
profitable.  Thus  you  may  overhear  a  boot 
manufacturer  debating  questions  of  pruning 
with  commercial  travellers,  while  the  banker 


132       FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.   C. 

buttonholes  the  ship's  purser  to  ask  if  late  straw- 
berries do  well  on  a  western  slope.  And  note, 
as  belonging  to  the  genius  of  Canada,  that 
clever  men  in  that  country  successfully  engage 
simultaneously  in  several  different  lines  of 
business. 

At  Port  Haney  and  Port  Hammond  I  visited 
several  fruit  farms,  including  one  of  sixty  acres 
planted  fifteen  years  ago,  and  now  owned  and 
managed  by  an  English  lady — widow  of  the 
original  proprietor.  Concerning  her  orchard 
of  prunes,  the  enthusiastic  testimony  of  a  fellow- 
passenger  gave  me,  as  I  was  approaching  the 
district,  a  preliminary  inkling. 

One  certainly  could  not  hope  to  see  a  finer 
lot  of  healthy,  shapely  trees.  The  lady  bore 
witness  to  their  progressive  fruitfulness  in 
vivid  language. 

"  They  looked  such  skinny  little  sticks  of 
things,"  she  told  me,  "  when  they  were  put  in 
the  ground.  It  needed  quite  a  lot  of  faith  to 
believe  they  would  produce  anything  ;  and  I 
remember  how  excited  we  all  were  when  we 
actually  got  four  pounds  of  fruit  from  them. 
We  also  thought  it  rather  fine  when  we  picked 
four  crates.  There  was  less  notice  taken  when 
the  four  crates  became  forty  ;  and  by,  the  time 


A   CROP  OF   "  NORTHERN   SPY  "   IX   AX   ORCHARD   XEAR   PORT 
HAMMOND,    B.C. 


FRUIT   GROWING   IN    B.    C.       133 

we  were  able  to  ship  four  car-loads  of  prunes 
nobody  took  any  notice  at  all."  (Goods  are 
"  shipped  "  by  rail,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  in 
Canada.) 

It  was  in  that  lady's  other  orchard  that  I 
first  saw  crimson  trees — that  is  to  say,  apple- 
trees  so  densely  and  universally  covered  with 
fruit  that  their  leaves  and  branches  were  prac- 
tically hidden.  Besides  apples,  all  one  saw 
were  the  palisades  of  posts  that  strutted  up 
the  overburdened  branches.  It  was  a  sight 
with  which  I  was  destined,  during  the  next 
fortnight,  to  become  very  familiar  ;  and  in  this 
connection  I  may  mention  that  a  fruit  farmer 
of  British  Columbia,  judging  by  what  I  saw, 
needs  to  be  something  of  a  blacksmith.  When 
a  tree  shows  signs  of  splitting  in  two  from  the 
weight  of  its  crop,  a  wrought-iron  collar  is 
clamped  round  the  bole  ;  cases  of  fractured 
limbs  being  treated  with  screw-bolts  and  nuts. 
As  an  alternative,  I  pointed  out,  the  burden 
might  be  adjusted  to  the  tree's  carrying 
capacity ;  but  this  suggestion  was  laughed 
aside  as  involving  an  unnecessary  loss  of 
revenue — as  amounting,  indeed,  to  a  gratuitous 
rejection  of  the  bounty  of  Providence.  There 
was  general  testimony  that  these  bumper  crops 


134       FRUIT   GROWING   IN    B.   C. 

were  of  constant  recurrence,  and  that  the  trees 
took  no  harm  from  the  rude  expedients  adopted 
for  holding  them  together. 

At  first  I  was  not  merely  surprised,  but  a 
little  perplexed,  by  the  facility  with  which 
British  Columbia  grows  all  the  familiar  fruits 
in  abundant  quantity  and  of  superb  quality. 
But  the  phenomenon  ceased  to  seem  strange 
when  I  remembered  the  forests  I  had  seen  in 
the  province,  notably  some  near  the  city  of 
Vancouver  and  on  the  island  of  that  name. 
From  a  country  that  produces  those  immense 
Douglas  firs,  300  feet  high,  many  of  them, 
and  more  than  1 2  feet  in  diameter,  and  pro- 
duces them,  moreover,  quite  close  together,  and 
amid  a  labyrinth  of  tall  and  luxuriant  under- 
growth— from  such  a  country  anything  might 
be  expected.  It  manifestly  represents  a  com- 
bination of  soil  and  climate  capable  of  supreme 
results  in  the  domain  of  vegetation. 

And,  talking  about  supreme  results,  I  must 
not  forget  to  mention  the  blackberries  on  which 
I  feasted  in  the  orchard  of  Mr.  Pope,  of  Port 
Hammond — an  ex-Cornish  miner  who  com- 
bines the  nominal  duties  of  district  constable 
with  the  lucrative  delights  of  fruit-growing. 
We  think  ourselves  very  fine  people  in  this 


FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.    C.       135 

country,  but  we  can't  grow  blackberries  like 
they  grow  them  in  British  Columbia.  When, 
from  a  little  distance,  I  first  saw  Mr.  Pope's 
long  rows  of  cultivated  bushes,  I  thought  they 
were  draped  with  crape,  so  densely  did  the 
black  clusters  hang.  To  be  eating  those  great 
juicy  berries  was  to  have  discovered  a  new 
joy  in  life. 

"  But  why  haven't  you  gathered  them?  "  I 
asked  in  surprise.  '  They  are  fully  ripe — in 
fact,  I  should  have  thought  you  had  allowed 
them  to  mature  too  fully  for  successful  mar- 
keting." 

"  We  gathered  them  several  weeks  ago," 
laughed  Mr.  Pope.  "  A  very  large  crop  it 
was,  too,  and  brought  in  quite  a  bit  of  money. 
Of  course  the  bushes  go  on  bearing,  but  the 
fruit  is  no  good  now — it  has  quite  lost  its 
flavour." 

What,  therefore,  those  blackberries  tasted 
like  when,  according  to  Mr.  Pope,  they  did 
have  a  flavour,  my  imagination  fails  to  conceive . 

41  We  also  did  very  well  with  these  rasp- 
berries," my  complacent  companion  added,  as 
we  strolled  to  another  part  of  the  orchard.  I 
looked  at  the  regiments  of  new  canes  in 
astonishment.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen 


136       FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.    C. 

raspberries  growing  to  a  height  that  called  for 
the  use  of  a  ladder  in  picking  the  fruit. 

It  seemed  that,  from  another  end  of  the 
plantation,  Mrs.  Pope  had  noted  my  apprecia- 
tion of  the  blackberries,  and  she  was  so  gracious 
as  to  bring  the  unknown  visitor  several  fine 
bunches  of  her  out-door  grapes.  They  do  that 
sort  of  thing  in  Canada.  How  it  would  fare 
with  the  complete  stranger  who  casually  walked 
into  an  English  orchard,  and  started  to  ask 
questions  and  eat  the  fruit,  is  a  point  on  which 
I  prefer  not  to  speculate. 

That  contented  couple  told  me  they  work 
hard  and  pretty  continuously,  on  their  land- 
cultivating,  spraying,  pruning,  and  picking.  In 
some  seasons  they  have  been  visited  by.  grubs 
and  caterpillars  that  played  havoc  with  certain 
crops.  But  I  never  found  two  human  beings 
who  rejoiced  more  heartily  in  their  conditions 
and  surroundings. 

'  The  life  is  so  bright,  so  varied,  and  so 
healthy,"  testified  the  enthusiastic  lady.  '  I 
simply  could  not  put  up  with  a  town  after  this." 

They  left  England  more  than  ten  years  ago  ; 
and  in  their  case  emigration  did  not  involve 
severance  from  friends  and  neighbours.  For 
they  were  followed  to  Canada  by  a  congenial 


FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.    C.       137 

group  of  their  Cornish  acquaintances,  several 
of  whom  are  now  fruit -farming  in  the  Haney 
and  Hammond  district. 

"  Of  course  you  all  had  a  little  capital  to 
start  with?"  I  suggested. 

"  Did  we  !  "  replied  Mr.  Pope,  much  amused. 
"  Who  ever  heard,  I'd  like  to  know,  of  a 
Cornish  miner  who  was  able  to  save  money. 
No,  sir  ;  we  all  own  a  bit  of  property  now — 
some  more,  some  less  ;  but  at  the  start  every- 
body had  to  work  for  wages.  Some  went 
mining,  others  got  work  in  the  logging  camps, 
several  joined  the  railway  gangs — there  were 
plenty  of  openings.  And  the  pay  was  so  good 
it  was  easy  to  put  by.  a  few  dollars  every  month. 
Once  get  a  fair  start  like  that,  and  the  rest 
follows  naturally.  You  buy  a  bit  of  land.  You 
get  a  couple  of  cows  and  some  poultry.  You  put 
in  a  few  hundred  fruit-trees  and  a  few  thousand 
strawberry  runners.  Very,  likely  you  won't 
know  much  about  growing  things  at  first,  but 
you  pick  it  up  as  you  go  along,  if  you're  not 
too  proud  to  be  taught  by  your  neighbours. 
Then  after  a  time  your  stock  increases  and  you 
have  some  crops  to  gather.  Very  likely  you 
see  your  way  to  do  a  bit  more  planting — per- 
haps buy  a  bit  more  land.  So  it  goes  on.  Ah! 


138      FRUIT   GROWING   IN    B.   C. 

if  those  millions  in  the  Old  Country  only  knew  ! 
If  they  could  be  made  to  understand  what  life 
in  Canada  really  means  !  Why,  they'd  come 
pouring  over  here  in  shiploads." 

I  travelled  hundreds  of  miles  through  the 
fruit  districts,  and  visited  ranch  after  ranch 
situated  amid  exquisite  lake  scenery — some  on 
irrigated,  some  on  non -irrigated,  land.  Each 
rancher,  not  having  seen  the  other  districts,  was 
exulting  over  the  fact  that  his  own  was  incom- 
parably the  best.  Kelowna  pitied  Kaslo  ;  the 
glorious  Kootenays  seemed  positively,  sorry  for 
the  Okanagan  Valley.  One  fine  young  fellow 
had  certainly  paid  for  the  right  to  believe  that 
his  house  looked  upon  the  fairest  view  in  all 
Canada. 

"  I  spent  £200  travelling  all  over  British 
Columbia,"  he  told  me,  "  to  find  the  best 
location.  Having  discovered  this  place,"  he 
jubilantly  added,  '*  I  consider  the  money  was 
well  invested." 

And  certainly  the  west  arm  of  the  Kootenay 
Lake  is  a  paradise.  There  are,  however, 
others. 

My  investigations  left  me  no  room  to  doubt 
that  the  matured  fruit  ranch,  when  run  by  a 
capable  and  industrious  man,  proves  a  fine  in- 


FRUIT   GROWING   IN    B.    C.       139 

vestment.  I  came  across  one  Englishman — a 
very  clever  Englishman,  by,  the  way — who  paid 
£2,000  for  his  large  and  well-stocked  ranch, 
on  which  he  has  constructed  a  number  of  glass 
houses  ;  and  his  present  annual  gross  returns 
precisely  tally  with  his  original  outlay.  I 
visited  several  growers  who  had  cleared  over 
£100  per  acre  from  apples,  from  strawberries, 
from  cherries,  and  from  other  fruits.  Nay, 
one  experienced  expert  had,  for  several  years 
in  succession,  made  a  net  profit  of  £200  from 
less  than  an  acre  and  a  quarter  of  his  orchard. 

Of  course  the  intending  rancher,  who  has 
everything  to  learn,  must  not  base  his  calcula- 
tions on  any  such  figures  as  these.  Average 
experiences  justify  him  in  hoping  no  more  than 
that,  after  the  preliminary  years  of  learning  and 
development  have  elapsed,  he  will  derive  an 
annual  profit  of  about  £25  per  acre  from  his 
trees . 

Fruit  farmers  by  desire,  if  not  by,  training, 
scores  of  English  families  are  thinking  of 
migrating  to  superb  British  Columbia.  By  all 
means  let  them  go,  but  allow  me  to  fortify 
them  with  some  facts  I  gathered  on  their 
behalf. 

To   begin   with,    each   family — unless   some 


140      FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.   C. 

members  thereof  are  prepared  at  the  outset  to 
work  for  wages  in  other  callings — should  have 
at  least  £  i ,  ooo  at  their  command .  The  average 
price  of  good,  cleared,  accessible  land  is 
between  £50  and  £60  per  acre,  and  ten  acres 
will  be  desirable,  especially  if  the  family  pro- 
pose to  work  their  way  to  the  economy  of  home- 
produced  eggs,  butter,  milk,  and  bacon.  But 
a  beginning  may  be,  and  usually  is,  made  with, 
say,  three  cleared  acres  ;  and,  of  course,  the 
seven  uncleared  acres  will  be  purchasable  at 
a  price  much  below  the  average  I  have  men- 
tioned. For  upheaving  great  tree  roots  is  a 
slow  and  costly  business,  usually  done  with 
gunpowder  and  donkey  engines.  And  after 
the  roots  are  up,  sometimes  there  are  numerous 
stones  to  remove. 

In  the  second  place,  a  house  must  be  pro- 
vided and  furnished,  a  modest  wooden  build- 
ing (costing  about  £150)  being  customary. 
Moreover,  trees  and  tools  have  to  be  pur- 
chased. Finally  the  family  must  be  maintained 
until  such  time  as  marketable  crops  are  pro- 
duced ;  and  the  cost  of  living,  when  one  has 
to  depend  on  the  stores  for  everything,  is 
rather  high  in  that  country,  where,  however, 
substantial  savings  are  effected  under  two 


j 


A   FRUIT   RANCH    NEAR    EARL   GREYS   ORCHARD    ON    THE   WEST  ARM   OF 
THE   KOOTENAY   LAKE,   B.C. 


FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.   C.       141 

heads.  Expensive  clothes,  however  necessary 
in  West  Kensington,  would  be  out  of  place  in 
British  Columbia  ;  and  doing  without  servants 
is  part  of  the  fun  of  living  in  Canada. 

Where  knowledge  is  lacking,  there  must  be 
a  humble  willingness  to  learn  from  neighbours . 
Fruit  culture  is  an  art  that  can  be  acquired  only 
by  practice  wisely,  directed.  The  same  is  true 
of  poultry  keeping — a  pursuit  in  which  the 
cocksure  novice,  who  relies  on  haphazard  read- 
ing, is  almost  sure  to  lose  money.  But  where 
plantations  are  the  main  interest,  and  poultry 
is  a  minor  one,  the  necessary  guidance,  muscle, 
perseverance,  and  patience  will  result  in  an 
ample  annual  revenue,  the  owner's  equanimity 
being  assisted  by  a  knowledge  that  the  value 
of  his  property  is  constantly  increasing. 

As  a  last  word  of  warning,  let  the  land-seeker 
beware  of  the  silver-tongued  stranger.  Many 
new  arrivals  suffer  grievous  injustice  at  the 
hands  of  certain  real  estate  agents  who,  by 
their  misrepresentations,  shed  discredit  on  an 
honourable  calling. 

In  dealing  with  the  Government  and  the 
C.P.R.,  a  settler's  interests  are  safe.  But  if, 
as  may  very  likely  happen,  he  contemplates 
making  his  purchase  through  a  private  channel, 


142       FRUIT   GROWING    IN    B.   C. 

let  him  act  under  the  advice,  sought  and  given 
in  confidence,  of  some  member  of  the  local 
Board  of  Trade — an  association  of  leading 
citizens  formed  in  every  urban  centre  to  further 
public  interests. 


CHAPTER   IX 
AIDED   IMMIGRANTS   FROM    ENGLISH   CITIES 

Public  funds  and  emigration  :  a  movement  in  its  infancy 
— Chief  cause  of  delayed  repayments — Visit  to  Earl's 
Court,  Toronto — Turning  shacks  into  villas — Ex- 
periences of  a  West  Ham  man — An  early  set-back 
— Buying  his  piece  of  land — What  can  be  done  with 
£2  a  week — Building  the  house — The  delights  and 
profits  of  gardening — Another  reason  why  remittances 
fail — Strange  case  of  X.,  the  chef— Why  he  lost 
two  jobs — On  the  Athabasca  trail — Cooking  strange 
meats — Six  months'  illness — Turning  the  corner — 
An  Edmonton  investment — Unadaptable  Englishmen 
— Y's  quarrel  with  the  farmer — Salvation  Army  emi- 
grants— How  to  collect  repayments  :  a  suggestion 
— Z.  and  his  employers. 

RECENT  years  have  witnessed  the  beginning 
of  a  movement  which,  aiming  at  direct  benefit 
to  the  individual  and  the  Empire,  is  both 
philanthropic  and  Imperial.  I  refer  to  the  use 
of  public  money  in  enabling  citizens  of  Great 
Britain,  without  loss  of  personal  independence, 

to  remove  to  Greater  Britain. 

143 


H4  AIDED    IMMIGRANTS 

The  movement  is  in  its  infancy.  During 
1909  the  Central  London  Emigration  Com- 
mittee and  the  provincial  committees  ( including 
that  of  West  Ham),  contributed  only  some  600 
individuals  to  Canada's  total  of  52,901  British 
immigrants  ;  while — to  show  that  contribution 
in  the  perspective  of  comparison — the  Dominion 
received,  in  the  same  year,  3,911  persons 
through  the  Salvation  Army,  and  901  boys 
and  girls  from  Dr.  Barnardo's  Homes. 
But  five  years  of  experimental  work  afford  a 
basis  for  criticism  ;  and  during  my  travels  in 
Canada  I  endeavoured — by  visiting  families 
who  had  been  officially  transplanted — to  test 
the  value  of  semi -Government  emigration. 
More  particularly  on  one  point  did  I  seek 
enlightenment,  and  in  a  somewhat  anxious 
spirit. 

Assistance  had  been  rendered  on  an  under- 
standing that,  following  an  interval  of  grace, 
the  emigrant  should  return  the  cost  of  his 
transportation  in  monthly  instalments  of  ten 
shillings.  How  came  it — I  asked  myself — that, 
of  the  total  sum  due  to  be  returned  to  the  Com- 
mittees, only  about  20  per  cent,  had  actually 
been  received?  Such,  at  least,  was  the  figure 
given  in  the  latest  printed  returns  available 


FROM    ENGLISH    CITIES          145 

when  I  left  England,  though  it  is  but  fair  to 
mention  the  assurances  I  received  from 
responsible  officials  that,  since  the  date  of 
those  returns,  the  ratio  of  repayment  had  con- 
siderably improved,  and  was  still  improving. 

Those  assurances  closely  tally,  with  a  fact 
which,  understood  in  a  general  way  in  England, 
is  brought  home  with  special  force  to  an 
investigator  in  Canada.  During  the  industrial 
depression  that  affected  the  American  con- 
tinent in  1907  and  1908,  Canada  suffered  a 
check  in  its  galloping  development,  and  great 
workshops  near  Earl's  Court,  as  elsewhere,  were 
temporarily  closed.  Now,  Earl's  Court  is  a 
remarkable  Toronto  suburb  that  has  sprung 
up  during  the  past  year  or  so,  and  is  mainly 
populated  by  mechanics  and  labourers  from 
London  and  other  English  cities.  It  happens 
that  a  majority  of  the  Committees'  emigrants 
came  under  the  influence  of  that  depression  ; 
and,  as  my  inquiries  at  Earl's  Court  convinced 
me,  there  we  have  the  chief  cause  of  the  dis- 
appointing 20  per  cent,  ratio  of  repayment. 

When  I  was  at  Earl's  Court,  its  2,000  in- 
habitants had,  almost  to  a  man,  outlived  the 
consequences  of  that  serious  setback.  The 
interesting  process  of  transforming  shacks 

The  Golden  Land.  11 


146  AIDED   IMMIGRANTS 

into  substantial  brick  or  timber  houses  was 
proceeding  apace.  Nay,  the  "  Shack  Town  " 
of  a  year  before  was  already  a  town  of  villas, 
if  of  villas  strangely  mingled  with  nondescript 
wooden  structures.  And  here  and  there  the 
visitor  is  amazed  to  see  part  of  one  of  those 
magnified  fowl-houses  projecting  from  an 
unfinished  villa ;  for  Canadian  example  en- 
courages a  skilful  incorporation  of  the  old 
home  with  the  new. 

A  West  Ham  man  made  me  acquainted  with 
local  usage  as  it  affects  land  tenure,  his 
testimony  being  confirmed  by  several  neigh- 
bours and  by  the  Rev.  Peter  Bryce,  who  labours 
enthusiastically  in  that  happy,  and  prosperous 
community. 

"  Ain't  it  all  right  bein'  yer  own  landlord  ? 
My !  that's  a  change  from  two  rooms  at 
Canning  Town,  and  no  nearer  ownin'  a  brick  of 
it  after  payin*  seven  bob  a  week  for  ten  years 
and  more .  Only,  mind  yer,  we  was  a  long  way 
from  buying  our  own  place  at  the  start.  Why, 
I  hadn't  been  workin'  more  than  a  month,  and 
jest  beginnin'  to  think  I  was  nicely  fixed,  when 
— bless  me,  if  the  foundry  didn't  close  down, 
and  all  'ands  was  thrown  out.  I  tell  yer,  we 
'ad  it  pretty  rough  for  a  time — but  that's  all 


<  w 

W  H 
55  < 


o3 


FROM    ENGLISH   CITIES         147 

past  and  forgotten  now.  Only  when  the  shop 
opened  agin,  and  I'd  been  took  back,  me  and 
the  missis  figured  it  out  that  we'd  be  money 
in  pocket  if  we  bought  our  bit,  same  as  every- 
body said  we  ought  to.  So  I  give  the  bloke 
five  dollars  for  a  start,  and  after  that  it  was 
two  dollars  a  month  till  the  land  was  paid  for. 

4  What's  two  dollars  to  a  man  when  e's 
liftin'  forty?  That's  what  they  pay  me  down 
at  the  foundry,  and  it  works  out  two  pound  a 
week  by  our  money.  You've  got  to  earn  it, 
let  me  tell  yer,  but  nobody  wouldn't  mind  puttin' 
in  a  bit  of  graft  for  two  pound  a  week.  It's 
not  gettin'  the  charnse  of  a  job,  more  than 
mightbe  an  odd  day  a  fortnight,  and  dog's 
wages  at  that — that's  what  takes  the  heart  out 
of  any  one  in  the  Old  Country.  A  man  can 
turn  round,  as  you  may  say,  on  two  pound  a 
week — nice  warm  clothes  for  the  nippers,  a 
bit  of  finery  once  in  a  way,  for  the  missis,  and 
a  good  bellyful  all  round. 

"  As  soon  as  the  land  was  paid  off,  '  Now 
it's  time,'  I  says,  '  to  'ave  a  nice  'ouse  over  our 
'eads,  same  as  others.'  We'd  made  do  up  to 
then  with  jest  a  two -room  shack — small,  of 
course,  but  wonderful  snug  in  the  winter,  and 
a  lot  more  comfortable  than  you  might  think. 


14$  AIDED    IMMIGRANTS 

By  livin'  quiet,  and  puttin'  away  a  bit  every 
pay-day,  I'd  saved  pretty  nigh  half  enough 
money  to  buy  the  stuff,  and  me  and  two  others 
got  to  work  on  it,  evening  after  evening,  and 
very  often  an  hour  and  a  'alf  in  the  morning. 
But  the  lath  and  plaster  and  all  the  paintin' 
I  didn't  want  nobody  to  'elp  me  with.  The 
rest  of  the  money  we're  payin'  off  same  as 
we  did  for  the  land,  only  five  dollars  a  month 
instead  of  two  ;  and  be  through  with  it,  we 
shall,  by  next  Christmas  twelvemonth.  Only 
me  and  the  missis  was  puttin'  our  'eads 
tergether  to  arrange  if  we  couldn't  pay  'em 
two  months  at  a  time,  and  so  be  through  and 
done  with  it  in  jest  .over  a  year  from  now. 
Then  it'll  all  be  our  own,  and  no  rent  to  pay 
or  nothin',  and  Sir  Wilfrid  Loreyer  'isself 
couldn't  take  it  from  us.  I  tell  you,  the  missis 
don't  half  begin  to  fancy  'erself — goes  to  church 
of  a  Sunday,  she  does,  with  the  best  of  'em ; 
and  if  I  might  'appen  to  step  into  the  parler, 
and  forget  to  take  off  my  boots,  there's 
a  pretty  'ow-d'yer-do  over  me  spoilin'  'er 
nice  noo  carpet." 

In  the  present  trend  of  his  life,  that  man 
represents  hundreds  of  London  labourers  now 
settled  in  the  eastern  cities  of  Canada.  The 


FROM    ENGLISH    CITIES          149 

testimony  of  another  West  Ham  enthusiast  was 
typical  of  a  new  human  interest  that  has  been 
awakened. 

"  What  d'you  think  of  this  ?  "  he  asked,  with 
blushing  pride,  as  he  drew  from  under  the  table 
a  clothes-basket  full  of  small  and  rather  muddy 
carrots.  "  Not  bad  for  a  beginner,  eh?  Before 
I  come  out  here,  it's  a  fact  I'd  never  seen  what 
vegetables  look  like  whilst  they're  growing  in 
the  ground.  I  was  jest  a  baby  at  it;  but 
this  year  I've  grown  two  sacks  and  a  'alf  of 
pertaters — for  we've  got  a  nice  bit  of  garden  ; 
and  you  ought  to  have  seen  all  the  cabbages 
and  one  thing  and  another  we've  been  having. 
Then  there's  a  nice  lot  of  parsnips  I've  got 
to  dig  up  before  the  frost  gets  hold  of  the 
ground.  It's  a  hobby  with  me,  more  than 
work — I  quite  look  forward  to  my  couple  of 
hours  in  the  garden  of  an  evening.  Then, 
again,  it's  a  big  saving  not  having  to  buy 
vegetables,  especially  when  you've  got  a  lot 
of  youngsters.  And  that's  another  thing  about 
Canada — it  suits  the  nippers.  Our  lot's  got 
twice  the  go  in  'em  they  used  to  have,  and  as 
for  red  cheeks  and  getting  fat,  why,  you'd 
hardly  know  them  for  the  same.  I'll  tell  you, 
Canada's  all  right .  For  I've  altered  my  opinion 


150  AIDED    IMMIGRANTS 

from  the  idea  I  had  soon  after  we  came  out, 
when  the  big  shops  shut  down,  and  there  was 
a  few  months  when  jobs  was  as  difficult  to 
find,  pretty  near,  as  what  they  are  in  the  Old 
Country.  But  we  haven't  had  another  spell 
like  that  for  two  years — and  if  we  should  cop 
it  again  at  any  time,  well,  I'll  be  better  pre- 
pared, with  house  and  land  paid  for,  and  a 
dollar  or  two  put  by." 

Meanwhile  then  we  have,  in  that  depression 
of  1907-8,  one  reason  why  the  assisted  emi- 
grants were  backward  in  their  repayments. 

I  now  come  to  an  auxiliary  cause  of  this 
disappointing  element  in  the  results  of  an 
interesting  social  experiment,  and  an  experi- 
ment that  has  otherwise  been  attended  by  a 
most  encouraging  success.  This  auxiliary 
cause  is,  in  a  word,  the  absence  of  effective 
machinery  in  Canada  for  collecting  the  money. 

Born  to  small  opportunities  of  education  and 
culture,  and  nurtured  in  toil  and  penury,  the 
British  working-man  nevertheless  possesses 
qualities  of  heart  and  will  which,  to  persons  of 
other  classes  who  meet  him  on  terms  of  friend- 
ship and  mutual  understanding,  are  a  constant 
source  of  amazement  and  inspiration.  But 
human  nature  is  human  nature  ;  and  time,  cir- 


FROM   ENGLISH   CITIES         151 

cumstances,  and  an  intervening  ocean  are  apt 
to  lessen  the  force  of  an  honourable  obligation. 
One  or  two  instalments  will  be  conscientiously 
remitted  ;  then,  in  many  cases,  the  ear  heeds 
silly,  but  sedulous,  whisperings — that  the  money, 
is  not  expected,  that  it  is  not  needed,  and  that 
it  is  not  a  just  claim,  since  both  countries  have 
been  sufficiently  benefited  (such  is  the  seductive 
argument)  by  the  transfer  of  labour. 

There  is  need  of  agents  on  the  spot — dis- 
cerning agents.  Banks  and  debt-collecting 
organisations  are  ineffective.  It  is  a  case  in 
which  business  routine  must  be  qualified  by 
human  discretion.  Cases  of  illness  and  bad 
luck  occur. 

I  found  X as  the  respected  and  well- 
established  caretaker  of  a  large  drapery  store 
at  Edmonton,  Alberta. 

"Funny  work  for  a  chef,  isn't  it?"  he 
remarked,  with  twinkling  eyes.  "  Oh,  well,  I 
was  no  good  at  my  own  profession  out  here. 
I  got  a  job  as  cook  to  a  club,  and  at  the  end 
of  a  month  they  fired  me.  What  for,  do  you 
think  ?  I  didn't  know  how  to  cook  !  I  tell 
you,  I  couldn't  help  laughing  when  they  said 
that — me  having  been  chef  at  several  West 
End  London  clubs,  and  afterwards  at  William 


152  AIDED    IMMIGRANTS 

Whiteley's.  It  took  me  a  fortnight  to  find 
another  place,  and  hang  me  if  that  didn't  end 
the  same  way.  I  didn't  laugh  this  time — it 
was  getting  too  serious.  Talk  about  puzzled, 
though — I  was  regular  dumbfounded.  But  I've 
found  out  all  about  it  since,  and  it  only  shows 
what  different  ideas  you'll  meet  with  in  dif- 
ferent countries.  If  you've  stopped  in  many 
hotels,  you  must  have  noticed  how  the  meat 
out  here  is  cooked  almost  to  a  piece  of  leather. 
I  served  those  clubs  with  nice  thick  steaks  just 
done  to  a  turn  according  to  English  ideas  ; 
but  I  can  see  now  that  those  poor  gentlemen, 
after  what  they'd  been  used  to,  must  have 
fancied  I  was  giving  'em  raw  meat  to  eat. 

"  It  was  lucky  I'd  saved  a  bit  of  my  two 
months'  money,  because  winter  had  come  on. 
That  makes  everything  a  bit  slack  out  here, 
so  if  you  haven't  got  a  steady  job  before  the 
cold  weather  sets  in,  you  very  likely  won't  find 
it  easy  to  get  one.  However,  I  put  in  three 
weeks  at  an  hotel,  while  the  other  man  was 
away  ill,  and  when  the  fine  weather  came  round 
I  struck  a  queer  sort  of  job.  I  joined  one  of 
those  Hudson  Bay  gangs  that  work  their  way 
up-country  along  the  rivers  and  across  the 
portages  in  open  boats  they  call  scows.  Our 


FROM    ENGLISH    CITIES          153 

trail  was  along  the  Athabasca  River  through 
the  Grand  Rapids  to  Fort  McMurray — more 
than  200  miles,  and  it  took  us  three 
weeks  each  way.  There  were  140  of  us  in 
the  party,  but  only  three  other  whites,  all  the 
rest  being  half-breeds. 

"  We  took  miscellaneous  goods  going  up, 
and  came  back  loaded  with  furs.  It  kept  me 
pretty  busy  cooking  for  that  lot,  but,  one  thing, 
there  was  always  a  full  larder.  Those  half- 
breeds  are  very  handy,  with  their  guns  and 
snares  and  hooks,  and  I  found  myself  boiling 
and  broiling  no  end  of  queer  truck — ribs  of 
elk,  hindquarters  of  moose,  great  big  fish- 
in  fact,  there  I  was  skinning  and  cooking  a 
whole  menagerie  of  creatures  I  had  never  seen 
before,  unless  it  might  be  at  the  Zoo.  Every 
now  and  then  they'd  bring  me  a  bear,  which 
tastes  very  like  beef.  It  was  good  money- 
eighty  dollars  a  month,  and  I  could  have  got 
bigger  pay  still  at  a  job  they  offered  me  up 
at  Fort  McMurray.  But  I  heard  that  the  last 
cook  committed  suicide,  and  that  turned  me 
against  it. 

"  After  being  nearly  five  months  with  the 
Hudson  Bay  party,  I  fell  ill,  and  was  on  my 
back  with  dysentery  for  six  months.  That  was 


154  AIDED    IMMIGRANTS 

a  rough  time,  I  can  tell  you,  and  if  I  hadn't 
belonged  to  the  Sons  of  England,  I  hardly 
know  how  the  wife  and  young  'uns  would  have 
pulled  through.  When  I  got  my  strength 
again,  I  struck  this  job,  where  I'm  very  com- 
fortable. Of  course  that  illness  put  me  back 
a  lot,  but  I  reckon  we're  just  beginning  to 
turn  the  corner  now.  I've  invested  in  a  nice 
bit  of  land  across  the  river — 50  feet  by  185— 
and  it  cost  275  dollars,  which  I'm  paying 
off  on  the  instalment  plan  at  8  per  cent,  interest. 
We've  got  a  good  shack  on  it,  20  feet  by  12 
feet,  and  another  one  13  by  10,  with  a  lean-to 
10  by  8.  Then  there's  a  good  well,  and  a 
shed  in  which  I  do  odd  jobs." 

The  immigrant  must,  of  course,  adapt  him- 
self to  Canadian  conditions ;  and  some 
Englishmen  waste  a  little  time  in  the  process, 
as  is  shown  by  the  experiences  of  Y-  — ,  who 
experimented  with  many  opportunities  before 
settling  down  to  the  carman's  job  by  which 
he  now  supports  his  family. 

*'  A  friend  of  mine,"  Y mentioned  in  the 

course  of  his  disclosures,  "  was  always  on  to 
me  to  go  in  for  farm  work.  That  was  the  best 
way  to  earn  money,  he  said,  if  you  didn't  mind 
having  it  rough  at  the  start.  I  wasn't  quite  so 


FROM   ENGLISH   CITIES         155 

sure  about  it  myself,  only  I  thought  I'd  give 
it  a  trial  just  to  see.  So  off  I  went  to  a 
farming  job." 

"  And  how  did  you  get  on?  "  I  was  curious 
to  learn. 

'  Well,  the  farmer  seemed  a  good  enough 
sort,  and  at  first  I  fancied  we  might  hit  it 
together  all  right.  But  on  the  third  day,  what 
do  you  think  he  wanted  me  to  do  ?  There  was 
a  bit  of  a  swamp  on  his  farm — pretty  near  a 
pond,  it  was — and  he'd  got  the  idea  in  his  head 
to  plough  it,  if  you  please,  only  first  of  all  I 
was  to  go  slopping  about  to  get  the  roots  out. 
I  told  him  there  was  no  sense  in  bothering 
about  a  place  like  that  when  he'd  got  better 
land  all  round.  But  he  was  regular  obstinate 
about  it,  and  said  I'd  got  to  do  it.  Got  to, 
mind  you  !  I  pretty  soon  let  him  see  he'd 
mistaken  his  man.  If  he  wanted  those  roots 
out,  I  said,  he'd  better  get  'em  out  himself 
—I  certainly  wasn't  going'  in  up  to  my  ankle  to 
please  him  or  anybody  else.  With  that  I  took 
and  left  him.  And  you  won't  catch  me  back 
at  farming  in  a  hurry,  I  can  assure  you." 

On  a  list  of  sample  names  with  which  I  was 
courteously  furnished  by  the  Central  London 
Committee,  X and  Y figured  as  emi- 


156  AIDED    IMMIGRANTS 

grants  by  whom,  up  to  the  time  of  my  departure 
from  England,  no  portion  of  their  loans  had 
been  repaid.  Nor  in  either  case  is  the  tem- 
porary failure  (for  I  think  it  will  have  proved 
only  temporary)  very  surprising. 

The  problem  of  the  recovery  of  these  loans 
is  one  on  which  analogy  may  throw  some  light . 
It  may  not  be  generally  known  that  the 
Salvation  Army  has  become  the  greatest 
emigration  force  in  the  world.  Of  the 
thousands  of  British  families  who  go  to 
Canada  every  year  under  those  auspices,  the 
great  majority  are  not  otherwise  connected 
with  General  Booth's  organisation,  to  which, 
moreover,  they  lay  themselves  under  no 
financial  obligation.  The  Army's  Emigration 
Department  is  a  sort  of  Cook's  Agency  run 
in  the  interests  of  humanity,  those  who  book 
through  that  channel  being  assured,  along  the 
line  of  travel,  as  well  as  at  their  destination, 
of  uniformed  friends  who  save  them  from  dis- 
comfort, hindrances,  and  loss  of  money.  But 
one  comparatively  small  branch  of  the  Army's 
work  is  associated  with  assisted  passages,  and 
the  instructive  fact  must  be  recorded  that  the 
Army  has  secured  a  much  higher  ratio  of  re- 
payments than  have  the  Committees.  Every 


FROM    ENGLISH    CITIES          157 

settled  part  of  the  country  has  its  local 
corps,  and  wherever  the  new-comer  may 
go,  and  however  often  he  may  shift  his 
location,  the  uniformed  friends  are  at  hand 
to  keep  him  in  touch  with  his  better  self. 
Little  wonder,  then,  that,  with  increasing 
experience  and  improving  organisation,  the 
Army's  satisfactory  results  under  this  head  tend 
to  become  still  more  satisfactory.  Where 
remissness  is  inexcusable,  Colonel  Lamb's 
department  does  not  hesitate  to  invoke  com- 
pulsion. So  far,  however,  no  defaulter  has 
been  brought  into  court,  the  starting  of  the 
legal  machinery  having  had  in  each  case  the 
desired  effect. 

The  London  and  provincial  Committees 
have  at  present  no  organisation  of  their  own 
in  Canada,  and  it  is  impossible  that  they  should 
ever  have  an  organisation  so  widespread  and 
effective  as  the  Salvation  Army.  The  con- 
clusion, therefore,  to  which  I  came,  when 
pursuing  my  investigations  in  Canada,  was  that 
efficiency  and  economy  would  best  be  secured 
by  joint  action  on  the  part  of  the  Committees 
and  the  Army.  Since  returning  to  this  country, 
I  have  made  the  agreeable  discovery,  on  read- 
ing a  booklet  called  "  The  Surplus,"  that 


158  AIDED    IMMIGRANTS 

General  Booth's  organisation  has  already  acted 
for  the  Committees,  and  other  local  authorities, 
in  connection  with  the  recovery  of  the  loans 
those  bodies  have  made  to  emigrants.  It 
appears  that  the  Army  did  not  secure  so  high 
a  ratio  of  repayments  in  these  cases  as  in  its 
own  cases  ;  but  since  this  result  was  traced  to 
causes  that  are  capable  of  removal  ( and  which, 
I  imagine,  would  not  survive  half  an  hour's 
fraternal  conference  between  the  parties  con- 
cerned), the  public  may  surely  count  on  seeing 
an  important  social  experiment  go  forward  on 
the  lines  of  greatest  promise. 

Since  I  have  given  typical  cases  of  post- 
poned repayment,  it  is  but  right  I  should  give 
a  typical  case  of  prompt  repayment. 

Z—  -  also  figured  on  my  little  list  of  Central 
London  names. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Canadian  Northern  foreman 
at  the  Saskatoon  office  where  I  made  my 
inquiries,  "  I  seem  to  know  that  name.  Ah  !  " 
— on  consulting  a  pay-sheet— "  here  he  is. 
Been  with  us  over  eighteen  months.  Good, 
steady  worker,  evidently.  You'll  find  him  on 
bridge  construction,  thirty  miles  along  our 
road.  Never,  I  see,  earns  less  than  fifteen 
dollars  a  week.  That's  the  type  of  man  we 
are  always  looking  for." 


CHAPTER    X 

A   PLEA   FOR  TRAINING   GROUNDS 

Objection  to  communities—  "  Sparrow  "  and  "  Broncho  " — 
Interviews  at  cross-purposes — Mr.  Bruce  Walker's 
story  of  the  loafer— Criticisms  from  Mr.  W.  D. 
Scott — Case  of  magisterial  indiscretion — Canadian 
opinion  explained — Unwise  emigration  during  recent 
years — Wholesome  effect  of  present  restrictions — 
English  wastrels  in  Canadian  cities — The  improve- 
ment in  1910 — Lord  Strathcona's  testimony — 
Statement  by  the  Minister  of  the  Interior — Pros- 
perous settlers  from  English  cities — A  case  for 
preferential  treatment  —  Wanted,  a  stepping-stone 
— How  farmers  are  lost  to  Canada — Mr.  Rowland's 
suggestion — The  "green"  man's  need  of  three 
dexterities — Interview  with  the  Prime  Minister  of 
Manitoba — Mr.  Oliver's  views — The  Londoner's 
u  mental  alertness " — On  the  Salvation  Army's  pro- 
gramme—  Experimental  farms  of  the  Federal 
Government  —  Provincial  agricultural  colleges  — 
Training  grounds  in  England — Successful  emigra- 
tion societies — The  appeal  to  our  farm  labourers. 

A  LARGE  majority  of  assisted  immigrants  from 
British  cities  congregate  in  industrial  centres 


159 


160      PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS 

of  Eastern  Canada ;  and  this,  I  think,  is  a 
pity.  It  is  contrary  to  their  own  interests, 
and  to  Canada's,  that  they  should  live  in  com- 
munities— a  state  that  delays  their  adaptation 
to  new  conditions. 

An  immigrant  from  the  Old  Country  neces- 
sarily arrives  with  notions — on  points  ranging 
from  how  bricks  should  be  carried  to  the  proper 
time  for  meals — that  conflict  with  notions 
obtaining  in  the  new  country.  Assertions  by 
the  dogmatic  Britisher,  and  denials  by  the 
sensitive  Canadian,  generate  an  ill-feeling  that 
only  passes  away  when  the  new-comer  frankly 
falls  in  with  prevailing  ideas.  Then  he  no 
longer  hears  himself  addressed  as  a  "  sparrow  " 
(for  Canadians  are  still  sore  over  the  importa- 
tion of  a  bird  that  has  proved  a  nuisance) 
or  a  '"  broncho  "  (which,  being  interpreted, 
means  a  kicker). 

A  larger  number  of  immigrants  from  our 
cities  should,  it  seems  to  me,  seek  the  wider 
opportunities  that  Central  Canada  and  New 
Ontario  afford — a  view,  by  the  way,  that 
seemed  to  receive  no  very  enthusiastic  support 
from  most  of  the  Dominion  statesmen  and 
officials  who  favoured  me  with  interviews. 
They  talked  about  the  London  emigrant,  and 


PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS      161 

I  talked  about  the  London  emigrant,  but 
it  was  clear  that  we  had  very  different  human 
types  in  our  minds. 

"  Now,  it's  no  good,"  exclaimed  Mr.  E. 
Marquette,  at  Montreal,  "  sending  over  a  lot 
of  wastrels  and  loafers.  We  only  want  good, 
steady  workers." 

"  Some  of  the  people  from  your  slums,"  said 
Mr.  Bruce  Walker  (Assistant-Superintendent 
of  Immigration),  at  Winnipeg,  "  are  quite  use- 
less. I'll  give  you  an  instance.  The  man 
said  he  was  a  carpenter,  and  I  found  him  a 
job.  Then  it  came  to  my  knowledge  that  he 
hadn't  gone  to  it,  and  I  sent  to  ask  why. 
Because  he  hadn't  any  tools,  he  replied.  So 
I  sent  him  money  to  buy  tools  with.  But  a 
week  later  I  found  he  still  hadn't  gone  to  the 
job,  and  again  I  asked  why.  Because  he  didn't 
like  the  look  of  that  job,  he  said,  and  he  wanted 
me  to  find  him  another.  So  I  found  him 
another  job  in  the  next  town,  but  he  didn't 
go  to  that,  either.  I  asked  what  was  wrong 
this  time.  He  explained  that  I  hadn't  sent 
him  the  money  for  his  fare,  so  how  could  I 
expect  him  to  go  ?  Well,  I  sent  him  the  money 
for  his  fare.  But  a  few  days  later  I  was  com- 
municating with  him  at  the  old  address — would 

The  Golden  Land.  12 


162      PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS 

he  please  explain  why  he  hadn't  taken  up  his 
work  in  the  next  town?  Because  I  hadn't 
sent  the  money  to  pay  his  wife's  fare  !  So 
I  sent  the  money  to  pay  his  wife's  fare.  Still, 
however,  he  tarried,  and  once  more  I  had 
to  trouble  him  for  an  explanation.  It  now 
appeared  that  he  had  changed  his  mind — he 
wanted  me  to  find  him  a  painter's  job.  Then 
I  paid  a  personal  call  on  that  couple.  I  saw 
the  wife.  '  Now,  my  good  woman,'  I  said, 
1  that  husband  of  yours  hasn't  done  a  stroke 
of  work  since  he's  been  in  Canada,  but  he 
has  let  you  slave  away  at  the  washtub  '  (for 
I'd  been  making  inquiries)  '  and  he  has  been 
spending  your  hard-earned  money  in  the  liquor 
saloons .'  '  Yes,'  she  retorted  indignantly,  '  and 
why  shouldn't  he  have  his  glass  of  beer?  He 
shan't  go  short  if  I  can  help  it,  not  for  the 
likes  of  you  or  anybody  else.'  In  the  end  I 
had  to  deport  them." 

"  Some  of  the  worst  people  we  have  re- 
ceived," saM  Mr.  W.  D.  Scott,  the  Superinten- 
dent of  Immigration,  "  have  come  from  London 
and  your  other  big  cities.  It  is  quite  out  of 
the  question  that  England  should  dump  its  use- 
less material  on  our  shores.  Indeed,  we  have 
had  to  enforce  regulations  to  put  a  stop  to 


PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS      163 

that  sort  of  thing.  As  for  men  who  come 
into  this  country  under  a  promise  to  take  up 
farming  work,  and  then  refuse  to  go  on  the 
land — well,  that  is  misrepresentation,  and  if 
cases  of  the  sort  occur  again,  we  really  shall 
have  to  make  that  in  itself  a  ground  for 
deportation." 

"  And  in  the  past  it  hasn't  been  limited 
to  loafers  " — to  again  quote  Mr.  Bruce  Walker. 
"  Some  of  your  petty  criminals  have  been  ex- 
ported to  this  country.  Only  a  few  months 
ago  I  read  a  report  from  one  of  your  courts, 
where  two  lads  had  been  found  guilty  of  theft. 
It  was  their  first  offence,  and  the  magistrate 
gave  them  an  option— to  go  to  prison  for  six 
weeks  or  to  go  to  Canada.  Really  your  magis- 
trates ought  to  know  better  than  to  try  and 
use  this  country  as  a  sort  of  penal  settlement. 
But  ignorance  of  Canadian  conditions  was  not 
limited  to  the  bench — it  was  also  noticeable 
in  the  dock.  For  those  two  young  rascals 
elected  to  go  to  prison." 

And  in  the  inquiries  that  elicited  these  re- 
sponses I  had  been  referring  to  the  carefully 
chosen,  hard-working  men  of  good  antecedents 
assisted  to  Canada  by  the  London  and  pro- 
vincial Committees  !  Thus  at  the  beginning 


1 64      PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS 

of  my  interviews  with  those  officials,  we  were 
hopelessly  at  sixes  and  sevens ;  though,  of 
course,  before  conversation  had  advanced  very 
far  I  made  it  clear  that  their  strictures  did 
not  apply,  since  I  was  speaking  of  persons 
whose  selection  for  emigration  was  in  itself 
a  guarantee  of  their  industry  and  integrity. 
Let  me  explain  how  it  comes  about  that, 
at  the  first  mention  of  assisted  emigration, 
official  Canada  utters  a  note  of  anxious 
lamentation.  For  several  years  before  the 
Committees  began  their  work,  the  Church 
Army  and  other  charitable  bodies,  acting  from 
the  highest  motives,  and  encouraged  by  the 
free  facilities  and  bonuses  given  by  the 
Canadian  Government,  had  been  emigrating 
our  weak  and  broken  men  in  shiploads,  the 
humane  motive  being  "  to  give  them  another 
chance  in  a  new  land."  When  Canadians  came 
to  rub  shoulders  with  these  strange  recruits 
to  a  busy  and  strenuous  nation,  amazement 
spread  through  the  provinces — amazement  that 
passed  from  indignation  to  dismay ;  and  a 
public  opinion  was  generated  that  found 
expression  when  the  Federal  Government,  in 
the  spring  of  1908,  enforced  its  present 
restrictions  on  immigration. 


PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS      165 

Now,  it  came  about  that,  before  Canadian 
feeling  culminated  in  executive  action,  the 
Committees  had  already  entered  the  field  ;  and 
thus  their  excellent  emigrants,  and  the  far  in- 
ferior ones  who  had  provoked  official  safe- 
guards, came  under  a  common  classification, 
and  remain  participators  in  a  common 
reputation . 

One  satisfactory  feature  of  the  situation  is 
that  the  restrictions  have  raised  the  standard 
of  emigrants  all  round  ;  and  it  needs  but  the 
lapse  of  time  before  "  assisted  immigrant,"  as 
a  general  term,  will  cease  to  excite  apprehen- 
sion. Meanwhile,  alas  1 — since  deportation 
enactments  are  not  retrospective  in  their 
application — the  undesirables  who  arrived  a  few 
years  ago  still  wander  about  the  streets,  and 
haunt  the  saloons,  of  Toronto,  Montreal,  and 
other  cities — dilapidated  idlers,  content  to  live 
by  cadging  ;  wily  practitioners  on  the  com- 
passion of  kindly  folk ;  men  whose  nearest 
approach  to  work  is,  occasionally,  to  tend  cattle 
on  ships  and  trains  ;  a  vagrant  breed  wholly 
out  of  place  in  Canada's  population  of  workers  : 
their  presence  serving  as  a  reminder  and 
a  warning. 

That  the  day  of  the  wastrel  is  past,  however, 


and  that  the  "  assisted  immigrant  "  promises 
to  prove  a  factor  of  increasing  value  in 
Canadian  development,  the  proof  is  not  far 
to  seek.  Reporting  from  London  to  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior  in  June,  1910,  Lord 
Strathcona,  the  High  Commissioner,  wrote : 
"  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  add  that  the  class 
of  immigrants  now  pouring  into  Canada  is,  I 
am  assured,  of  a  most  excellent  character." 
Let  me  quote  later,  and  still  more  positive, 
testimony.  In  an  interview  with  which  he 
favoured  me  in  October,  1910,  the  Minister  of 
the  Interior  (the  Hon.  Frank  Oliver)  said : 
"  The  immigrants  that  we  have  received  this 
year  have  fully  realised  the  expectations  we 
based  on  our  restrictions.  They  have  been 
thoroughly  satisfactory — certainly  in  no  pre- 
vious year  have  we  had  a  finer  contingent  from 
Great  Britain." 

Nor,  it  is  interesting  to  note,  have  they  often 
had  a  larger  contingent.  Indeed,  in  1910, 
for  the  first  time,  the  number  of  persons  who 
emigrated  from  Great  Britain  to  Canada  ex- 
ceeded the  number  who  emigrated  from  Great 
Britain  to  the  United  States. 

During  my  explorations  in  Manitoba,  Sas- 
katchewan, and  Alberta  I  happened  upon  many 


PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS      167 

prosperous  farmers  who  a  few  years  ago  were 
urban  or  suburban  members  of  the  English 
working  classes.  Nay,  among  them  I  found 
some  of  the  leading  prize-winners  in  grain- 
growing  competitions — a  circumstance  appar- 
ently identified  with  a  readiness  (not  always 
observable  in  a  lifelong  tiller  of  the  soil) 
to  devote  time  and  thought,  and  apply  orig- 
inal methods,  in  preparing  a  fine,  loose,  level 
seed-bed. 

A  small  proportion  of  the  West  Ham  Com- 
mittee's emigrants  have,  I  am  told,  gone  on 
the  land,  where  they  are  making  satisfactory 
progress.  I  would  like  to  see  the  process  of 
selection  directed  more  definitely  to  the  dis- 
covery of  men  and  couples  who,  swayed  either 
by  early  antecedents  or  an  educated  preference, 
are  anxious  to  take  up  agriculture,  first  by 
hiring  themselves  to  established  farmers,  and 
afterwards  by  entering  for  their  own  home- 
steads .  Farming  affords  the  new-comer  a  surer 
prospect  of  securing  a  substantial  financial  foot- 
ing (as  the  reward,  be  it  remembered,  of  hard 
work  and  perseverance)  than  any  other  calling 
he  is  likely  to  adopt. 

The  fact  that,  in  the  first  years,  farm  work 
yields  a  smaller  return  than  factory  work  need 


i68      PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS 

not,  it  seemed  to  me,  prevent  this  development, 
though  it  is  a  good  argument  for  preferential 
treatment  in  the  repayment  of  loans.  The 
average  sum  due  from  the  54  emigrants 
(representing,  with  their  dependents,  123  per- 
sons) assisted  to  Canada  in  1909  by  the  West 
Ham  Committee  was  £15  ios.,  the  loans 
fluctuating  between  £78  2s.  and  £i  ios.  and 
being  repayable  therefore  over  periods  varying 
from  three  months  to  thirteen  years.  Thus  it 
would  introduce  only  one  new  variation  into 
a  situation  already  full  of  variety  if,  in  the 
case  of  emigrants  who  go  on  the  land,  the 
rate  of  repayment  were  fixed  at  five  shillings, 
instead  of  ten  shillings,  per  month  ;  though  the 
scope  of  that  concession  could  be  limited  to 
five  years,  from  which  term  the  balance  of  the 
loan  might  justly  be  repayable  in  monthly 
instalments  of  £  i . 

It  is  desirable,  moreover,  that  there  should 
be,  in  Canada,  some  machinery  for  introducing 
city  emigrants  to  the  soil.  Farmers  show  no 
unwillingness  to  hire  "  green  "  men,  whom  they 
agree  to  instruct  in  the  simple  principles  of 
prairie  grain  growing.  But  often  enough, 
being  busy  workers  and  untrained  in  the 
teacher's  art,  their  criticism  of  the  novice 


PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS      169 

assumes  a  vehement  form  which,  if  his  tem- 
perament errs  on  the  side  of  sensitiveness, 
occasions  his  prompt  withdrawal  from  the 
tilled  field. 

Discussing  with  me  this  aspect  of  the  situa- 
tion, Mr.  Charles  F.  Roland,  Commissioner  of 
the  Winnipeg  Development  and  Industrial 
Bureau,  threw  out  a  suggestion — as  one  that 
was  receiving  the  attention  of  his  colleagues — 
for  establishing  a  practical  agricultural  recruit- 
ing ground,  where  the  Londoner  could  be 
taught  to  milk  a  cow,  drive  a  Canadian  plough, 
and  harness  a  Canadian  team.  Less  than  a 
month's  tuition  and  practice  would,  Mr.  Roland 
pointed  out,  equip  the  right  sort  of  man  with 
those  three  dexterities ;  and,  armed  with  a 
certificate  of  proficiency,  he  would  embark  on 
his  new  career  with  confidence,  and  be  enabled 
to  receive  better  wages  than  a  "  green  "  man, 
at  the  outset,  is  in  a  position  to  command. 
The  only  question  on  which  Mr.  Roland  and 
his  colleagues  were  doubtful,  it  appeared,  con- 
cerned the  authority  that  might  properly  be 
asked  to  defray  the  initial  cost  of  this  inno- 
vation. Nor  was  it  possible  to  encourage  a 
hope  that  the  British  Government  would  feel 
moved  to  act  in  the  matter. 


1 70      PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS 

Being  privileged,  on  the  following  day,  to 
discuss  questions  of  colonisation  with  the  Hon. 
R.  P.  Roblin,  I  mentioned  this  proposal  for 
establishing  a  stepping-stone  between  the  cities 
of  Great  Britain  and  the  soil  of  Canada. 

"  By  all  means,"  replied  the  Prime  Minister 
of  Manitoba.  "  That  seems  an  excellent  idea. 
Everything  should  be  done  that  will  bring 
people  on  to  the  land.  In  this  province  alone 
we  have  20,000,000  agricultural  acres  await- 
ing settlement.  We  therefore  could  absorb, 
and  should  welcome,  a  quarter  of  a  million 
of  your  people  if  they  were  prepared  to  take 
up  farming,  in  which  pursuit  they  may  feel 
assured  that  industry  will  yield  a  rich  reward. 
But  I  may  tell  you  at  once  that,  in  my  opinion, 
the  cost  of  such  an  establishment  as  you 
mention  should  not  fall  on  the  Government  of 
Manitoba.  The  benefit  would  not  be  restricted 
to  any  one  province,  and  therefore  the  charge 
should  be  defrayed  by  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment." 

Nor  did  I  fail,  on  arriving  at  Ottawa,  to 
ventilate  this  matter  further  in  my  interview 
with  the  Hon.  Frank  Oliver,  Minister  of  the 
Interior,  who  is  responsible  for  moulding  and 
carrying  out  the  Dominion's  immigration 


policy.  He,  too,  thought  well  of  the  sugges- 
tion. "But,"  he  added,  "it  is  not  for  the 
Canadian  Government  to  establish  an  institu- 
tion of  the  sort.  Our  policy  is  to  hold  out 
open  arms  to  your  agriculturists,  who  are,  in 
our  opinion,  the  finest  in  the  world.  We  want 
the  English  and  Scotch  farmers  to  come  over 
here  and  teach  us  how  to  farm.  For  us  to 
set  up  an  institution  for  teaching  Englishmen 
how  to  farm  would  be  entirely  to  reverse  the 
position.  Besides,  '  once  a  city  man,  always 
a  city  man  '  is,  I  am  afraid,  the  rule." 

That  a  landward  tendency  was  manifesting 
itself  in  our  city  population,  though  more 
particularly  in  the  middle  class,  and  that 
Londoners  had  been  largely  recruited  from 
rural  districts,  were  points  I  ventured  to 
submit,  coupled  with  allusion  to  the  many 
Cockneys  whom  I  had  found  as  prosperous 
farmers  out  on  the  prairie. 

'  Yes,  yes,"  conceded  Mr.  Oliver,  "  I  know 
there  is  much  to  be  said  from  that  side  of 
the  question  ;  and  please  understand  that  we 
do  appreciate  what  I  would  call  the  mental 
alertness  of  the  Londoner — a  quality  which  no 
doubt,  when  he  takes  up  farming  seriously, 
not  merely  carries  him  through,  but  may  well 


PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS 


give  him  an  advantage  over  agriculturists 
whose  intellectual  antecedents,  so  to  speak, 
have  been  more  restricted  than  those  he  has 
enjoyed.  Still,  having  regard  to  the  declared 
policy  of  the  Government,  we  must  leave  it 
to  others  to  provide  improved  avenues,  and 
initiate  fresh  facilities,  for  transferring  people 
from  the  towns  of  Great  Britain  to  the  land  of 
Canada.  But  the  difference  between  us  is, 
after  all,  largely  one  of  point  of  view.  The 
promoters  of  emigration  on  your  side,  and  the 
promoters  of  immigration  on  our  side,  are 
moving  towards  a  common  goal.  We  are 
working  at  the  problem  from  our  end  ;  you 
are  working  at  it  from  your  end." 

Finally,  I  mentioned  the  proposal  for  a  train- 
ing ground  to  the  gentleman  who  guides  the 
Salvation  Army's  immigration  work  in  Canada. 
"  How  curious,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  you 
should  bring  that  suggestion  to  me  !  We  have 
thought  of  the  same  thing.  It  is  on  our  pro- 
gramme to  establish  such  a  place." 

He  was  not  in  a  position  to  enter  into  details  ; 
but  later  inquiries  enable  me  to  foreshadow  the 
establishment  by  the  Salvation  Army  of  train- 
ing grounds  in  Ontario  and  Manitoba,  it 
being  thought,  moreover,  that  the  Maritime 


PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS      173 

Provinces  are  not  without  possibilities  in  this 
direction . 

I  make  the  foregoing  announcement  with 
great  satisfaction.  These  training  grounds  will 
put  a  finishing  touch  to  Canada's  admirable  and 
widespread  system  of  agricultural  education. 
From  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  the  Federal 
Government  has  established  a  chain  of  thirteen 
experimental  farms — institutions  that  not  merely 
apply  the  test  of  locality  to  desirable  forms 
of  vegetation,  but  gratuitously  distribute  trees, 
seed,  and  knowledge  to  applicants  from  among 
the  general  public.  Then  the  Provincial 
Governments,  besides  fostering  a  love  of  Nature 
and  farming  in  their  elementary  schools,  have 
established  fine  agricultural  academies,  such 
as  the  Manitoba  College  at  Winnipeg  (with 
its  practical  short  courses  for  farmers  and 
farmers'  wives),  and  the  Ontario  College  at 
Guelph  (which  attracts  pupils  from  England, 
Germany,  Japan,  and  New  Zealand).  Thus 
facilities  exist  for  what  may  be  called  secondary 
and  higher  education.  The  Army  training 
grounds  will  constitute  facilities  for  elementary 
education — for  elementary  education  of  a 
severely  practical  form  and  mainly  in  the  in- 
terests of  immigrants  from  English  cities  who 
desire  to  become  Canadian  farmers. 


174      PLEA  FOR  TRAINING  GROUNDS 

On  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  efforts  have 
been  made  to  establish  training  farms  for  emi- 
grants. But  the  attempt  to  reproduce  Canadian 
conditions  in  England  could  hardly  be  very 
successful ;  and  the  value  of  such  farms  has 
been  in  the  direction  of  testing  men's  suit- 
ability for  out -door  life  rather  than  of  train- 
ing them  for  it. 

It  will  be  understood  that  my  references  to 
the  assisted  immigrant  have  not  applied  only, 
or  mainly,  to  persons  sent  to  Canada  by 
the  London  and  provincial  Committees.  I 
came  across  many  prosperous  settlers  who  had 
crossed  under  the  auspices  of  the  East  End 
Emigration  Society,  the  Charity  Organisation 
Society,  the  Self-Help  Emigration  Society,  and 
kindred  organisations. 

Canada  makes  its  official  appeal  to  the 
farmers  and  farm  labourers  of  Great  Britain 
(and,  having  regard  to  the  miserable  wages 
ruling  on  this  side,  and  the  splendid  prospects 
offered  on  the  other,  I  am  only  surprised  that 
the  latter,  at  any  rate,  do  not  emigrate  in  a 
body).  Canada,  I  think,  does  not  fully  realise 
how  great  is  the  number  of  agricultural  recruits 
it  can  receive  from  among  the  middle  and  arti- 
san classes  of  urban  centres  in  the  Old  Country. 


CHAPTER  XI 
EXPERIENCES  OF  THE   MIDDLE-CLASS   LAD 

Willie's  school  days  and  early  prospects — Why  he  went 
to  Canada — An  unathletic  young  "tender  foot" — 
Quotations  from  his  diary — Flying  fish,  sleighs,  and 
half-breeds — Arrival  in  Saskatchewan — Engaged  at 
ten  dollars  a  month — The  shacks — Cleaning,  stoning, 
and  discing — The  doctor's  prairie  fire — Chasing  a 
wolf — Troublesome  cattle — Willie's  second  engage- 
ment— A  grumbling  employer — Herding  steers,  cows, 
and  a  bull — First  "  lessons  "  in  driving — Willie's 
service  dispensed  with — His  controversy  about  wages 
— He  gets  another  berth — A  day's  work  in  detail — 
Willie  learns  to  plough  and  drive — Left  in  charge 
of  the  farm — Stacking  hay  single-handed — Bathing, 
picnics,  and  pleasant  Sundays — Willie  joins  a 
threshing  gang — Working  for  ten  shillings  a  day — 
An  engagement  for  the  winter — His  duties  as  hall 
porter — A  typewriting  and  shorthand  job — Working 
on  the  railway  section — Glorious  January  weather — 
Willie  nearly  takes  up  a  homestead — Over  ^50  saved 
in-  eighteen  months — Willie  as  I  found  him — Nine 
jobs  to  choose  from. 

WILLIE,  to  look  at  him,  was  just  an  ordinary, 

good-natured  lad  with  ruddy  cheeks,  a  slight 

175 


1 76  EXPERIENCES  OF 

frame,  and  a  grin.  For  a  boy  he  was  singularly 
free  from  conceit  and  self-assurance.  He 
seemed  to  regard  the  world  as  a  place  full  of 
more  important  persons  than  himself,  and  he 
gave  one  the  idea  of  being  perpetually  grate- 
ful because  everybody  liked  him. 

When  the  time  arrived  for  Willie  to  leave 
boarding  school — where  he  had  gained  no 
special  distinction — the  question  of  his  future 
became  a  puzzle  both  for  his  father  and 
himself.  Willie  had  never  expressed,  and 
apparently  had  never  felt,  any  pronounced 
preference  as  between  a  professional  and  a 
commercial  career ;  and  whether  it  was 
desirable  to  make  him  a  tailor,  an  engineer, 
a  poet,  or  a  fishmonger,  nobody  knew. 

The  only  hint  of  a  personal  bias  was  that 
Willie  had  sometimes  said  he  thought  he 
should  like  to  write,  though  he  was  afraid 
he  never  could  do  it.  Acting  on  this 
dubious  clue,  the  father  installed  the  son 
as  a  boy  clerk — at  six  shillings  a  week— 
in  the  office  of  a  learned  society ;  it  being 
further  arranged  that  he  should  read  up  for 
the  Second  Division  of  the  Civil  Service — some 
years  of  that  sort  of  thing  not  having  proved 
hurtful  to  the  literary  genius  of  Charles  Lamb 
and  W.  W.  Jacobs. 


THE    MIDDLE-CLASS    LAD       177 

At  the  examination  Willie  secured  high 
marks  for  his  essays,  but  a  slovenliness  observ- 
able in  other  subjects — notably  as  regarded  the 
bottle  of  ink  he  upset  over  his  arithmetic 
papers — caused  him  to  be  plucked. 

Grinning  contentedly  to  himself,  he  set  to 
work  with  renewed  diligence  to  get  through 
next  time.  But  there  was  destined  to  be  no 
next  time. 

Willie's  brother  developed  lung  weakness  ; 
and  in  Willie's  case,  as  a  measure  of  preven- 
tion, the  healthy  life  of  Canada  was  prescribed. 
In  no  wise  put  out  by  the  altered  current  of 
his  affairs,  Willie  set  sail  from  the  Old  Country, 
on  March  19,  1909,  with  a  few  pounds  in  his 
pocket,  and  with  no  policy  more  settled  than 

to  accompany  a  certain  Mr.  and  Mrs.  R 

as  far  as  they  were  going. 

Willie  had  never  been  one  for  cricket  or 
football — indeed,  besides  a  little  pensive 
angling,  and  an  occasional  spin  on  his  bicycle, 
he  indulged  in  no  sports.  He  was  a  quiet, 
fireside  sort  of  boy.  In  him  the  Dominion 
received  a  young  "  tender  foot  "  if  ever  there 
was  one. 

Now,  Willie  happens  to  be  a  friend  of  mine, 
and  accordingly  I  made  a  point,  when  in 

The  Golden  Land.  13 


i;8  EXPERIENCES   OF 

Canada,  of  looking  him  up.  What  is  more, 
having  a  mind  to  take  a  holiday,  Willie  accom- 
panied my  brother  and  myself  for  a  fortnight 
of  our  further  travels — during  which  time  I 
persuaded  him  to  lend  me  the  diary  he  had 
kept  since  leaving  England. 

Written  with  candour,  and  a  capacity  for 
simple  literary  expression,  this  diary  affords 
an  instructive  record  of  the  experiences  likely 
to  befall  middle-class  lads  who  seek  their 
fortunes  in  Canada.  Therefore,  with  Willie's 
permission,  I  am  going  to  reveal,  in  Willie's 
own  words,  what  happened  to  Willie. 

Over  the  journey  we  may  pass  lightly.  '  I 
came  on  deck  a'fter  breakfast,"  he  tells  us, 
"  and  on  reaching  the  top  of  the  stairs,  I  saw 
before  me  the  New  World.  It  was  raining 
fast.  The  sky  looked  grey,  the  sea  looked 
grey,  and  the  land  looked  cold  and  unwelcome, 
It  was  one  of  the  islands  at  the  entrance  to 
Halifax  harbour.  .  .  . 

"  Next  morning  we  entered  the  Bay  of 
Fundy,  and  while  pacing  the  deck  I  saw  a 
flying-fish  fluttering  over  the  grey  waters." 
Landing  at  St .  John,  he  got  on  the  train .  '  The 
railway  carriages  and  engines  seem  very 
different  from  thase  in  England.  The  engines 


THE    MIDDLE-CLASS   LAD       179 

are  bigger,  and  each  has  a  large  headlight, 
and  a  big  bell  that  is  rung  on  passing  a  cross- 
ing. .  .  .  Next  morning  we  were  passing! 
through  a  part  of  the  United  States — the  State 
of  Maine.  .  .  .  On  Tuesday  morning  we 
stopped  for  a  time  at  North  Bay,  Ontario,  and 
thus  were  able  to  go  into  the  town  and  get  a 
good  breakfast.  The  majority  of  the  houses 
were  of  wood,  prettily  painted  and  differing 
in  size  and  architecture.  Snow  was  still  on  the 
ground,  and  horses  with  tinkling  bells  on  their 
harness  were  drawing  sleighs  about.  .  .  .  We 
stopped  soon  after  at  a  little  village  in  the 
middle  of  the  forest.  Some  half-breeds  were 
passing,  and  also  a  sleigh  drawn  by  three 
Eskimo  dogs." 

Arriving  in  due  course  at  Earl  Grey,  Sas- 
katchewan, Willie  spent  a  few  days  assisting 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  R to  get  their  shack  into 

shape.  "  The  shack,"  he  notes,  "  is  an  unpainted 
wooden  building,  consisting  of  two  rooms,  one 
20  by  12,  the  other  slightly  smaller.  There  are 
no  fireplaces  like  those  in  England,  but  big 
stoves  that  burn  wood." 

Willie  met  several  farmers  of  the  neighbour- 
hood and  told  them  he  wanted  a  job.  "  I 
arranged,"  he  records,  "  with  young  John  S 


i8o  EXPERIENCES   OF 

to  work  for  him  for  ten  dollars  a  month.  His 
shack  is  1 2  by  8,  and  also  built  of  wood,  with 
turfs  on  the  roof. 

"  Our  first  occupation  was  to  bag  grain  and 
put  it  in  the  stable .  Next  we  cleaned  it,  putting 
it  through  the  fanning  machine  to  separate  the 
wheat  from  other  seeds  and  dirt.  After  that 
it  was  dipped  in  bluestone — a  deadly  poison — to 
rid  it  of  all  smuts.  Two  half -days  we  spent 
on  a  field  about  four  miles  away,  picking  stones 
and  carting  them  away.  Two  other  half -days 
were  spent  in  discing  a  field  near  the  shack. 
The  mornings  were  very  cold,  and  work  on 
the  land  could  often  not  be  started  until  after- 
noon. In  addition  to  the  frost  we  had  some 
snow.  One  of  the  horses  is  a  white  broncho 
that  strongly  objects  to  work  at  the  discs. 

"  April  1 8.  We  spent  the  morning  repair- 
ing a  fence  to  protect  the  hay.  Yesterday, 
evening  we  drove  a  man  over  to  the  doctor's, 
where  he  worked.  It  seemed  that  the  doctor 
had  attempted  to  burn  a  fire-guard  round  his 
house,  but  a  wind  had  sprung  up  and  carried 
the  fire  right  across  the  prairie.  As  we  neared 
the  doctor's  house,  which  is  about  3^  miles 
from  Earl  Grey,  we  had  to  pass  right  by  a 
part  of  the  fire.  .  .  . 


THE    MIDDLE-CLASS    LAD       181 

"  April  20.  I  put  thirty  dollars  into  the 
Savings  Bank  Department  of  the  Northern 
Crown  Bank.  .  .  . 

"April  2 1 st.  In  the  early  morning  there 
were  several  blizzards.  In  the  afternoon  we 

drove  over  to  Mr.  S senior,  and  spent  the 

afternoon  at  his  place.  On  our  way  back  we 

saw  a  wolf  following  one  of  Mr.  S 's  calves. 

We  gave  chase,  and  kept  it  up  for  some  time, 
but  our  buggy  did  not  go  as  fast  as  the  wolf 
and  we  never  got  within  revolver  shot.  John 
S carries  such  a  weapon  with  him.  .  .  . 

"April  22nd.  Twice  during  the  day  we  have 
had  to  drive  away  the  cattle  of  neighbouring 
farmers.  For  the  last  week  or  so  they  have 
paid  repeated  visits  to  our  hay.  Among  the 
methods  we  have  tried  for  getting  rid  of  them 
are  blank  cartridges,  wire  fencing,  sticks,  stones, 
and  Jack,  the  dog.  The  last  is  the  most 
effective.  .  .  . 

"  May  3rd.  As  the  boss  had  to  plough  and 
disc  and  seed  some  land  on  a  homestead  about 
2|  miles  north  of  the  town,  and  as  the  work 
would  take  about  a  fortnight,  we  went  up  there 
and  stayed,  living  in  the  shack  and  putting  up 
a  rough  shelter  for  the  horses ....  From  this 
shack,  which  is  on  a  slight  elevation,  a  good 


182  EXPERIENCES   OF 

view  can  be  obtained.  The  distant  blue-look- 
ing prairie  appears  very  much  like  the  sea, 
and  the  dark-looking  lines  of  bluffs  resemble 
rocks.  At  this  time  of  year  many,  farmers  are 
burning  the  stubble  off  their  land,  and  in  the 
evening  streaks  of  red  flames  are  to  be  seen 
in  all  directions. 

"  May  1 2th.  In  the  evening  a  man  named 
Rackpool  drove  up  and  said  he  wanted  a  hand 

on  his  farm.  John  S then  told  me  that, 

after  my  month  was  up,  he  would  not  be  able 
to  pay  for  any  more  help  until  harvest. 
Rackpool  said  he  would  give  me  ten  dollars  a 
month,  and  wanted  me  to  herd  cattle.  I  had 
a  very  vague  idea  what  that  meant.  He  said 
he  would  probably  keep  me  until  harvest,  so 
I  agreed  to  go  with  him.  .  .  . 

"  Rackpool  came  for  me  in  his  buggy.  He 
said  he  could  not  take  my  box,  but  would 
send  for  it  soon.  We  did  not  arrive  at  his 
place  until  the  evening.  He  has  320  acres 
and  a  nice  house.  .  .  , 

"  I  stayed  there  for  a  little  over  a  fortnight. 
Rackpool  was  always  grumbling  at  me.  He 
made  no  attempt  to  get  my  box,  and  I  found 
it  very  difficult  to  get  a  good  wash.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  had  a  bed,  and  a  bedroom  to 


THE    MIDDLE-CLASS   LAD       183 

myself.  We  got  up  at  5  a.m.,  and  while 
Rackpool  milked  the  cows,  I  fed  and  cleaned 
and  harnessed  the  horses.  Then  I  cleaned  out 
the  stable,  and  took  the  pig  a  pail  of  swill  and 
shorts .  At  about  six  we  had  breakfast .  Then 
I  took  my  dinner  in  a  box  and  drove  the  cattle 
out.  I  had  to  follow  them  round  everywhere 
they  went,  and  keep  them  from  getting  into  the 
wheat  crops .  There  were  about  twenty  of  them 
— cows,  steers,  calves,  and  a  bull.  They  made 
a  point  of  giving  me  as  much  trouble  as 
possible.  However,  the  work  was  fairly  easy; 
but  I  was  learning  nothing  about  wheat - 
farming. 

'  When  I  had  been  there  a  little  over  a 
week,  the  cattle  were  put  in  a  large  pasture 
of  which  the  fences  had  just  been  repaired. 
Then  for  a  few  days  I  helped  Rackpool  cart 
piles  of  stones  from  around  the  fields  to  where 
a  milk-house  was  to  be  erected.  I  also  tried 
my  hand  at  driving,  but  Rackpool  used  to  stand 
in  the  wagon  behind  me,  and  every  minute 
he  would  be  grumbling  and  yelling  at  me  ; 
so  progress  was  slow. 

"May  3 1  st.  After  dinner  I  went  to  ask 
him  what  I  should  be  doing  while  he  was 
away,  for  he  was  going  to  drive  into  Earl 


1 84  EXPERIENCES   OF 

Grey.  He  told  me  I  had  better  come  with 
him  as  he  had  no  further  use  for  me,  because 
I  could  neither  drive  nor  plough  properly. 
When  he  engaged  me  he  asked  if  I  had  done 
any  ploughing  or  driving,  and  I  said,  '  No.' 

"  He  said  he  would  pay  me  five  dollars  for 
the  fortnight  I  had  been  with  him.  As  he  had 
engaged  me  for  so  much  a  month,  he  ought 
to  have  paid  me  the  full  month's  wage — ten 
dollars.  We  had  a  little  argument  about  the 
matter,  but  I  could  not  get  the  other  five 
dollars  from  him." 

Willie  was  out  of  a  job  for  three  days,  and 
those  three  days  he  spent  in  "  doing  some 
ploughing  for  Mr.  R ." 

The  new  engagement — once  more  at  ten 
dollars  a  month,  plus  board  and  lodging— was 

with  Mr.  H .  "  There  is  a  Mrs.  H "  we 

learn,  "  and  three  small  children.  The  shack 
is  two-roomed,  and  built  of  wood.  There  is 
a  large  stable  that  has  room  for  eight  horses, 
two  cows,  and  calves.  Four  of  the  horses 

belong  to  Mr.  A ,  who  lives  on  the  next 

quarter-section,  and  is  in  a  sort  of  partnership 
with  Mr.  H.  He  also  has  a  young  chap  newly, 
out  from  England,  and  commonly  called  Jack." 

Our  diarist  mentions  the  heat  and  the  mos- 


THE    MIDDLE-CLASS    LAD       185 

quitoes.  When  he  has  been  with  Mr.  H 

about  a  month,  he  sketches  the  "  daily  routine 
of  work  "  as  follows  : 

'  5  a. 111-5.30.  Rise,  milk  cows,  feed  and 

clean  down  horses.  Mr.  H usually  milks 

while  I  attend  to  the  horses.  About  6  a.m., 
have  a  wash  and  breakfast.  After  breakfast 
I  saw  wood  and  get  water  from  the  well,  while 

Mr.  H harnesses  the  horses.  At  about 

7  a.m.  we  commence  work  on  the  land.  This 
has  chiefly  consisted  of  breaking  the  prairie 
for  sowing  with  wheat  next  year.  When  the 
land  had  been  disced  and  harrowed,  I  painted 
the  house.  Afterwards  I  did  some  drag- 
harrowing,  and  later  on  I  disced  an  extra  piece 
of  land  on  which  oats  were  hand  sown,  as  the 
drill  had  been  returned. 

"  But  to  come  back  to  the  breaking— we 
have  four  good  horses  and  a  sulky  plough.  At 
first  Mr.  H.  did  all  the  ploughing,  while  I 
walked  behind,  kicking  down  any  bits  of 
earth  that  had  not  fallen  properly,  and 
eradicating  stones  with  a  pick  or  crowbar. 
But  after  a  time  I  did  a  round  or  two  on  the 
sulky,  and  am  gradually  becoming  more  pro- 
ficient in  the  art  of  driving  a  plough.  It 
certainly  is  an  art. 


1 86  EXPERIENCES   OF 

"  When  you  start  a  furrow,  there  is  a  lever 
to  press  down  with  the  foot.  Then  there  are 
two  other  levers— one  on  the  right  and  one  on 
the  left.  These  have  to  be  manipulated,  and 
there  are  also  the  reins  to  hold,  and  the  whip. 
It  can  therefore  be  seen  that  at  least  half  a 
dozen  hands  are  necessary.  I  have  only  two. 
Then  one  has  to  keep  one's  eyes  on  the  four 
horses,  on  the  furrow  wheel,  on  the  furrow 
itself,  and  on— everything  else. 

"  This  morning  I  have  been  ploughing  alone 

while  Mr.  H went  to  visit  a  neighbour.  In 

the  afternoon  I  cleaned  out  the  well  and  banked 
it  round.  But  to  return  to  the  programme. 

"  At  noon  we  come  in  to  dinner,  first  un- 
harnessing the  horses  and  putting  them  in  the 
pasture.  After  dinner,  I  clean  out  the  stable, 
bring  up  the  horses'  feed,  and  harness  them. 
Then  work  goes  on  until  6  p.m.  At  this  hour 
we  come  in  from  the  fields,  unharness  the 
horses,  and  give  them  oats.  Tea  is  the  next 
item  on  the  programme,  and  afterwards  the 
horses  are  turned  out  and  the  cows  brought 
up  to  the  stable  and  milked.  This  I  usually 
do.  Then  any  odd  jobs  are  done,  and  the 
day's  work  is  over.  I  usually  end  up  with  a 
wash,  and  am  then  ready  for  bed." 


THE    MIDDLE-CLASS    LAD       187 

Our  Willie,  it  will  be  noted,  is  learning  to 
do  things.  Subsequent  pages  contain  these 
items  :  "  I  built  a  pig  pen  of  poplar  poles 
and  turf  "  ;  "  Busy  helping  to  load  the  wagons 
and  stack  the  hay  "  ;  "I  broke  the  axe-handle 
while  chopping  wood  "  ;  "  While  I  was  driving 
the  rake,  something  went  wrong  with  the 
whipple-tree  "  ;  "I  drove  in  to  Bulyea  in  the 
morning." 

Nor  is  evidence  lacking  that  our  young  friend 
was  found  worthy  to  be  left  in  charge  of  the 

farm  :  "Mr.  H ,  Mr.  A ,  and  Jack  went 

stocking  for  B .  I  loaded  and  stacked  the 

remaining  hay-cocks— two  big  loads.  Heavy 
work,  haying  alone  !  I  also  found  it  very  hot, 
and  the  mosquitoes  were  a  regular  nuisance. 
While  hauling  the  first  load  Jolly  and  Bess 
nearly  upset  the  wagon.  The  cows  and  calves 
were  also  very  tantalising.  Marie  ate  up  some 
oats  while  I  was  driving  Codlin  home." 

Next  day  the  distribution  of  labour  was 
apparently  reversed,  for  we  read  :  "  I  went 
and  did  some  stocking  for  B ." 

One  is  relieved  to  find,  from  a  brief  entry 
here  and  there,  that  recreation  was  not  entirely 
neglected.  Several  times  there  is  mention  of 
a  "  jolly  picnic  "  at  one  or  other  of  the  neigh- 


i88  EXPERIENCES   OF 

bouring  farms.  Often  this  item  occurs-:  "  Had 
a  bathe  with  Jack  in  the  big  lake."  Pleasant 
Sundays  spent  with  his  friends  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
R seem  to  have  been  the  rule. 

Five  months  have  now  elapsed  since  Willie 
arrived  in  Canada.  At  about  this  time,  it  is 
clear,  he  recognises  his  fitness  to  earn  proper 
wages .  We  read  : 

"  At  the  end  of  my  three  months'  work 

with  Mr.  H I  left,  and  set  out  to 

get  work  on  a  threshing  gang.  Managed 
to  strike  Johnson's  gang,  Monday,  Sept.  6th, 
and  was  hired  at  two  and  a  half  dollars 
per  day  and  board.  The  first  afternoon 
I  did  pitching.  It  seemed  a  very  long  after- 
noon's work,  and  I  was  pretty  tired  at  the 
finish.  Then  for  two  days  I  drove  a  team. 
.  .  .  Gradually  I  got  more  used  to  the  work, 
although  I  was  about  the  slowest  pitcher  there 
was.  .  .  .  We  dined  in  a  canvas  structure  on 
wheels,  which  was  drawn  from  farm  to  farm 
by  oxen.  There  was  a  sleeping  caboose 
attached  to  the  outfit,  but  most  of  the  English- 
speaking  party  preferred  to  sleep  outside  of 
it." 

Willie  remained  in  the  threshing  gang  long 
enough  to  earn  sixty-three  dollars  (over  £12). 


THE    MIDDLE-CLASS    LAD        189 

"  Then,"  he  writes,  "  I  walked  into  Bulyea  to 
look  for  work  for  the  winter.  I  got  a  job 
at  the  hotel  to  dig  a  cellar  for  one  dollar  a 
day  and  board.  .  .  .  One  night  I  worked  an 
hour  and  a  half  overtime,  and  altogether  I 
earned  13  dollars  37  cents." 

Afterwards,  rather  than  be  idle,  he  became 
porter  at  the  hotel  for  ten  dollars  a  month,  with 
board  and  lodging.  Here  is  his  entry  for 
Christmas  Day  : 

"  As  usual,  I  got  up  at  4.30  a.m.,  and  went 
down  to  the  station.  It  was  a  glorious  morn- 
ing ;  clear  and  frosty  and  moonlight .  On 
returning  from  the  station,  I  lit  the  kitchen 
fire,  drew  some  water,  fetched  in  some  coal, 
and  ground  some  coffee.  Then  I  attended  to 
the  furnace.  At  about  6  o'clock  I  called  Rosie, 
the  cook.  She  did  not  come  downstairs  until 
7.30.  Between  6  and  7.30  I  dozed  before 
the  kitchen  fire.  Between  7.30  and  8.30  I 
got  my  breakfast,  and  then  waited  at  table. 
After  breakfast  I  again  attended  to  the  furnace, 
and  then,  taking  my  broom,  I  commenced  to 
sweep  out  the  two  sitting-rooms,  the  stairs,  the 
hall,  and  the  washroom,  and  afterwards  dusted 
the  furniture  in  these  rooms.  I  then  went 
upstairs  and  cleaned  up.  This  done,  I  fetched 


190  EXPERIENCES   OF 

in  more  coal  and  water.  I  next  took  some 
hot  water  up  to,  my  room  and  had  a  good  wash . 
When  I  came  down,  I  helped  Carl  set  the 
table,  and  then,  when  dinner  was  ready,  we 
both  waited  at  table  and  then  got  our  own 
dinner.  It  consisted  of  turkey  with  cranberry, 
sauce  and  cabbage  salad  and  two  vegetables, 
followed  by  mince  and  apple  pie,  and  '  Char- 
lotte ruste,'  a  Yankee  dish,  very  nice,  but  still, 
not  plum-pudding.  Dinner  over,  I  cleaned  out 
the  dirty  dishes  in  the  kitchen  and  swept  up 
the  crumbs.  Then  I  fetched  in  more  water, 
coal,  and  wood.  My  day's  work  was  now  done, 
and  I  had  got  the  Sunday  off .  .  .  .  On  Sunday 
we  went  to  church  in  the  afternoon.  There 
was  a  big  congregation.  A  baby  was 
christened." 

At  the  beginning  of  the  year,  the  hotel 
proprietor  heard  of  some  one  who  would  act 
as  porter  and  also,  on  occasion,  serve  in  the 
bar  (which  Willie  positively  refused  to  do). 
So  on  Friday,  January  1 4th,  we  find  our  young 
friend  working  in  a  inew  capacity.  He  had  been 
engaged  to  do  shorthand  and  typewriting  for 
five  dollars  a  week. 

"  Typing  seemed  very  strange,"  he  men- 
tions, "  as  I  had  not  practised  it  for  so  long. 


THE   MIDDLE-CLASS   LAD       191 

But  the  shorthand  was  easy,  as  I  had  kept  in 
practice  by  taking  down  the  sermons  in  church 
of  a  Sunday.  I  had  a  very  easy  time.  I 

reached  the  office  at  8  o'clock,  but  Mr.  M 

did  not  arrive  until  nearly  i  o.  So  after  lighting 
the  stove  and  sweeping  the  floor,  I  had  a  lot 
of  time  for  practising  typing." 

On  the  following  Tuesday,  he  wrote  :  "  I 
find  myself  getting  more  proficient  in  typing, 
and  to-day  I  copied  quite  a  number  of 
by-laws.  .  .  . 

'When  my  week  was  up,  Mr.  M said 

he  would  pay  me  one  dollar  a  day  if  I  cared 
to  stay  on.  Well,  I  had  heard  that  there  was 
a  man  wanted  on  the  railway  section,  and  as 
the  pay  was  one  dollar  seventy  cents  a  day, 
I  thought  I  would  take  it  on .  On  Friday  night 
I  saw  the  section  foreman  and  made  arrange- 
ments to  come  on  Monday.  .  .  . 

"  Monday,  24th  Jan.  Started  work  on  the 
line.  It  seemed  very  hard  at  first,  and  the 
wretched  influenza  which  I  thought  I  had 
thrown  off  showed  itself  when  I  began  to  do 
muscular  work." 

Soon  he  sounds  a  more  cheerful  note  :  "  All 
this  month  "  [January]  "  the  weather  has  been 
superb.  In  fact,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 


192  EXPERIENCES   OF 

days,  there  has  been  no  severe  winter  weather 
at  all  as  yet.  These  last  few  days  everybody 
has  been  going  about  without  overcoats  or 
gloves.  Bright  clear  days  with  brilliant  warm 
sunshine." 

Willie  remained  working  on  the  section  from 
January  until  the  day  of  my  arrival  in  Septem- 
ber, when  he  resigned  from  the  gang.  But 
his  long  course  of  strenuous  toil  had  been  inter- 
rupted by  one  short  spell  of  leisure.  Under 
date  of  April  1 5th,  he  wrote  :  "  Got  one  of 
my  fingers  crushed  under  a  rail  and  the 
nail  rooted  out.  So  I  decided  to  take 
a  few  days  off  to  see  if  I  could  find  a  nice 
homestead." 

Following  some  long  tramps,  he  alighted 
upon  a  quarter-section  to  his  liking,  and  paid 
the  customary  ten  dollars  to  secure  it.  How- 
ever, after  he  had  returned  to  his  labours  on 
the  C.P.R.,  a  Government  official  wrote  return- 
ing the  ten  dollars  and  explaining  that  a  mistake 
had  been  made,  since  there  was  an  earlier 
entry  for  that  particular  homestead. 

On  second  thoughts,  Willie  decided  that 
perhaps  it  would  be  premature  for  him  to 
take  up  his  own  quarter-section  ;  and  when  I 
saw  him  he  had  invested  his  savings  (over  £50) 


THE    MIDDLE-CLASS   LAD       193 

in  certain  town  sites  for  which  he  anticipates  a 
rosy  future. 

The  raw  and  weedy  youth  who  left  England 
eighteen  months  before  had  become  a  strong 
and  self-reliant  man.  There  was  only  a  bright, 
wholesome  grin  to  associate  the  new  Willie 
with  the  old  Willie. 

Our  paths  parted  at  Edmonton,  the  hand- 
some and  prosperous  capital  of  Alberta.  It 
was  at  breakfast  that  my  brother  and  I  an- 
nounced our  intention  of  pushing  on.  Willie 
said  he  thought  it  was  about  time  he  started 
work  again. 

'  What  work  will  you  do  here?  "  I  asked. 

"  Don't  know,"  replied  Willie. 

;<  Unfortunately  you  are  a  complete  stranger 
to  everybody  in  this  city,"  I  pointed  out. 

"  That'll  be  all  right,"  replied  Willie. 

'  Well,"  I  suggested,  "  instead  of  coming 
with  us  this  morning,  hadn't  you  better  try 
and  get  in  touch  with  somebody  who  would 
know  of  an  opening?  " 

"  Might  be  as  well,"  agreed  Willie. 

We  met  again  at  lunch. 

"  Did  you  do  any  any  good  ?  "  I  asked. 

;<  Heard  of  nine  jobs,"  Willie  explained. 
4  Don't  know  which  I'll  take  yet.  They  want 

The  Golden  Land.  14 


194       THE   MIDDLE-CLASS   LAD 

somebody  on  a  railway,  survey  party.  That 
looks  the  most  interesting.  But  I  haven't  quite 
made  up  my  mind  whether  to  take  that  or  a 
job  on  bridge  construction,  which  is  ten  dollars 
better  pay." 


CHAPTER    XII 
THE  TWO   ONTARIOS 

Old  Ontario  and  its  origin  —  Toronto  —  Agricultural 
evolution — Peach  orchards,  vineyards,  and  tobacco 
plantations — Dairy  farming  on  a  great  scale — New 
Ontario — Why  it  was  overlooked — Its  timber  and 
minerals — Sudbury  and  Cobalt — My  experiences  in 
Old  Ontario — Enthusiastic  farmers — The  old  Scotch- 
man's experiment — Guelph  College  :  remarkable 
result  of  up-to-date  tuition — Opportunities  for  farmer 
immigrants  —  "Home"  boys  —  Testimony  of  Mr. 
W.  D.  Scott — Inspecting  the  little  apprentices — Inter- 
view with  Mr.  G.  Bogue  Smart — Chat  with  a 
vivacious  lady — Her  Barnardo  Boy  husband — 
Anecdotes  about  Sammy — Old  Ontario's  grievance : 
why  her  sons  go  west — The  Grand  Trunk  Pacific 
line — New  Ontario  and  the  Prairie  Provinces  :  pros 
and  cons — The  Great  Clay  Belt — Development  along 
the  Government  railway — The  right  type  of  settler — 
Adventures  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jack. 

THERE  are  two  Ontarios,  and,  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  settler,  they  have  nothing  in 

common .  The  difference  between  them  roughly 

195 


196  THE   TWO  ONTARIOS 

corresponds  with  the  difference  between  Eng- 
land and  Canada.  One  is  an  old  country, 
already  populated  ;  the  other  is  a  new  country, 
inviting  pioneers.  In  rough  and  ready  speech, 
one  is  referred  to  as  Ontario,  the  other  as  New 
Ontario.  In  more  precise  language,  one  is 
Southern  or  Lower  Ontario,  the  other  is 
Northern  or  Upper  Ontario. 

Originally  settled,  over  120  years  ago,  by 
United  Empire  loyalists  from  the  south,  Ontario 
has  long  been  the  most  British,  the  most 
developed,  the  most  populous,  and  the  most 
prosperous  part  of  Canada.  It  has  made  a 
great  name  for  itself.  It  has  produced 
Toronto,  which  embraces  a  population  of 
350,000  persons  and  of  recent  years  has 
become  one  of  the  finest  cities  in  the  world. 
It  has  passed  through  grain -growing  to  the 
higher  stages  of  agricultural  evolution.  Its 
apple  and  peach  orchards,  and  its  plantations 
of  other  fruits,  cover  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  acres.  Its  vineyards  (fancy  "  Our  Lady 
of  the  Snows  "  having  vineyards  I)  yield  more 
than  40,000  tons  of  grapes  in  a  season.  It 
has  learnt  how  to  grow  tobacco,  and  already 
produces  over  five  million  pounds  of  leaf.  Its 
totals  of  cows  and  horses,  were  I  to  mention 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  197 

them,  would  look  like  sheer  exaggeration  on 
my  part.  It  possesses  more  than  £200,000 
worth  of  hived  bees,  and  it  numbers  its  poultry 
by  tens  of  millions.  It  contributes  two-thirds 
of  the  dairy  produce  of  Canada,  and  Canada 
annually  exports  about  sixty  thousand  more 
tons  of  cheese  than  any  other  country. 

But,  while  achieving  all  this,  Ontario  has 
been  very  remiss  in  one  particular.  Until  recent 
years,  it  completely  overlooked  nearly  three- 
fourths  of  itself.  For  the  Ontario  of  which  I 
have  been  speaking  is  only  that  south-eastern, 
and  boot -shaped,  portion  of  the  province  which 
abuts  on  the  Great  Lakes — a  mere  bit  of  a 
place,  not  much  larger  than  England.  The 
part  of  Ontario  that  Ontario  has  only  just  dis- 
covered, so  to  speak,  is  nearly  equal  in  extent 
to  three  Englands . 

Of  similar  territorial  oversights  the  recent 
history  of  Canada  is,  of  course,  full.  8,000,000 
people  necessarily  cannot  spread  them- 
selves over  a  country  that  is  large  enough, 
and  rich  enough,  to  support  over  100,000,000 
people.  With  two  or  three  hundred  acres 
to  look  after,  the  average  man  can  get 
all  he  wants  in  the  way  of  geographical  ex- 
ploration on  his  own  property.  When  he 


198  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

happens  to  look  at  a  map,  he  naturally  wonders 
what  certain  great  areas  of  land  are  good  for, 
but  he  has  no  time  to  go  and  see. 

Then,  too,  in  the  case  of  New  Ontario,  the 
route  of  the  C.P.R.  has  served  as  a  sort  of 
libellous  advertisement.  In  an  earlier  chapter 
I  referred  to  the  railway  traveller's  sustained 
experience  of  a  country  which  consists  of 
nothing  but  rock.  That  country  is  the  delight 
of  the  occasional  artist  who  sees  it,  and  the 
despair  of  the  thousands  of  practical  men  who 
constantly  pass  that  way.  One  recognises  a 
value  in  forest  land  and  in  open  land ;  an 
expanse  of  water  also  suggests  useful  possi- 
bilities ;  but  rock — more  particularly  disinte- 
grated rock — when  it  covers  the  landscape  for 
hundreds  of  miles,  gives  the  business  person 
a  headache. 

It  was  perhaps  inevitable  that  New  Ontario 
should  be  judged  by  the  sample  in  sight.  But, 
as  the  Canadian  people  now  are  beginning  to 
realise,  the  sample  in  sight  is  no  criterion. 

That  New  Ontario  is  rich  in  spruce,  cedar, 
pine,  and  other  valuable  trees,  has  been  known 
in  the  lumber  world  for  some  time  ;  and  the 
number  of  its  logging  camps,  saw  mills,  pulp 
mills  and  paper  mills  is  large  and  increasing. 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  199 

That  New  Ontario  is  rich  in  silver,  nickel, 
copper,  iron,  and  other  minerals,  has  been  known 
in  the  mining  world  for  some  time  ;  and  the 
fame  of  Sudbury  (as  the  world's  chief  source 
of  nickel)  and  of  Cobalt  (which  yielded  nearly 
£2,000,000  worth  of  silver  in  1908)  needs  no 
emphasis.  That  New  Ontario  possesses  some 
millions  of  acres  as  fertile  as  any  in  Canada 
has  been  known  for  some  time  to  the 
authorities,  but  is  not  yet  known  to  the  public 
at  large.  Therefore  those  acres — which  are 
destined  to  become  New  Ontario's  chief  source 
of  wealth — are  now  obtainable  on  terms  which 
can  only  be  described  as  reasonable.  If  you 
are  single,  you  can  have  one  hundred  acres 
for  nothing.  If  you  are  married,  and  have  a 
child  or  children  under  sixteen  years  of  age, 
you  can  have  two  hundred  acres  for  nothing. 
Any  more  that  you  want  you  must  pay  for, 
the  price  being  two  shillings  and  a  halfpenny 
per  acre. 

No  person  instructed  in  the  facts  can  doubt, 
I  think,  that  we  may  read  the  future  history 
of  New  Ontario  in  the  past  history  of  Old 
Ontario — that  comparatively  small  stretch  of 
territory  embracing  170,000  farms  which,  with 
their  buildings,  implements,  and  live-stock, 


200  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

represent  a  value  of  £200,000,000,  and  which, 
since  1880,  have  supplied  humanity  with 
£400,000,000  worth  of  milk,  butter,  and 
cheese.  Figures  like  that  are,  no  doubt, 
vaguely  impressive,  but  Ontario  statistics  sink 
into  insignificance  when  once  you  have  seen 
the  "Ontario  farms  and  farmers.  I  visited  a 
number  of  British  settlers  at  and  near  Dundas, 
Woodstock,  Brantford  and  Ingersoll ;  and  it 
was  indeed  pleasant  to  meet  them.  They  are 
as  hearty  and  happy  as  our  own  farmers  doubt- 
less would  be  were  it  not  for  landlords,  rates, 
tithes,  and  the  English  climate.  They  are  sur- 
rounded by  varied  scenery  that  put  me  in  mind 
of  Devonshire,  Scotland,  and  the  south  of 
France.  They  are  living  under  skies  which 
give  them,  not  a  monotony,  but  an  abundance 
of  sunshine.  They  are  (and  I  suppose  here 
we  touch  the  chief  cause  of  their  jolly  faces) 
making  fat  livings .  I  think  it  is  a  fair  summary 
of  the  position  to  say  that  they  experience  the 
interests  of  agriculture  without  the  anxieties. 
One  was  overflowing  with  enthusiasm  about 
his  new  field  of  alfalfa  (or  lucerne,  as  we  call 
it).  Another  would  not  give  me  any  peace 
until  I  had  seen  and  admired  the  second  silo 
he  had  just  erected.  A  third  was  eloquent 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  201 

over  the  advantage  of  a  daily  record  of  the 
weight  of  milk  yielded  by  each  cow.  For, 
under  the  fostering  care  of  an  energetic  Pro- 
vincial Government,  and  the  stimulus  of  334 
agricultural  societies,  dairy-farming  in  Ontario 
is  pushing  on  from  a  high  stage  of  excellence 
to  a  higher. 

This  present-day  trend  of  affairs  in  Southern 
Ontario  may  usefully  be  illustrated  by  the  testi- 
mony of  a  modest  and  magnanimous  old 
Scotchman. 

"  I  have  been  on  this  farm,"  he  told  me, 
"  for  fifteen  years,  but  three  years  ago  I  handed 
it  over  to  my  eldest  boy.  It  was  like  this. 
For  twelve  years  I  worked  the  farm  and  did 
well — at  least,  I  was  nicely  satisfied,  and  able 
to  put  a  bit  of  money  in  the  bank  every  year. 
But  there  was  all  this  talk  of  doing  things 
a  different  way  than  everybody  was  used  to — 
how  this  and  that  ought  to  be  altered,  how 
something  else  was  all  wrong,  and  so  forth 
and  so  on.  I  couldn't  see  it  myself.  All  the 
same,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  give  it  a  trial. 
There  was  my  son  Henry  that  I'd  always  in- 
tended should  have  the  place  when  I  got  past 
the  work.  I'd  brought  him  up  with  that  idea, 
and  I'd  taught  him  to  do  things  according 


202  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

to  my  way  of  doing  'em.  But  now  I  altered 
my  plans.  I  made  up  my  mind  he  should  go 
to  Guelph  College — go  right  through  all  the 
courses  ;  and  then,  when  he  came  back,  he 
should  take  over  the  farm,  and  I'd  let  him 
go  his  own  way  without  interfering.  That  'ud 
show  us  which  was  best — the  old  ideas  or  the 
new.  I  told  him  before  he  went,  '  Now, 
Henry,  you're  starting  all  over  again,  mind, 
and  it's  those  college  people  you've  got  to 
learn  from — don't  take  any  notice  of  what  your 
old  Dad  has  taught  you  if  they  tell  you  some- 
thing different.'  Well,  when  he  came  back 
from  Guelph  he  took  charge  here,  and  he's 
had  charge  ever  since.  And  what's  been  the 
result,  do  you  think?  Why,  each  year  he's 
made  just  three  times  as  much  money  out  of 
the  place  as  I  did.  Three  times,  mind  you  ! 
It's  simply  wonderful." 

Small  wonder  that  the  market  price  "of 
well-appointed  farms  in  Old  Ontario  is  about 
£14  per  acre.  They  are  excellent  investments 
for  immigrants  who  have  agricultural  experi- 
ence. They  would  be  unwise  investments  for 
immigrants  who  merely  have  agricultural  aspi- 
rations. The  latter  may,  however,  judiciously 
serve  an  apprenticeship  on  those  farms.  The 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  203 

supply  of  labour,  even  of  unskilled  labour,  falls 
lamentably  short  of  the  demand.  The  "  green  " 
man  who  is  teachable  and  industrious  readily 
commands  £2  a  month,  with  board  and  lodg- 
ing. Of  British  immigrants  whose  agricultural 
aspirations  are  unsupported  by  experience,  the 
great  majority  are  placed  (by  the  Salvation 
Army  and  other  societies)  on  farms  in  Old 
Ontario.  It  is  pointed  out  to  them  that,  when 
they  have  acquired  knowledge,  they  can  push 
west  and  appropriate  their  slices  of  the  fertile 
prairie.  Many  do  so.  Others,  falling  in  love 
with  dairy-farming  or  fruit-growing,  stay  in 
the  populated  province. 

Nor  is  Old  Ontario  a  training  ground  merely 
for  adults.  It  receives  most  of  the  boys  and 
girls  sent  out  from  the  Old  Country  by  various 
bodies — by  Poor  Law  Guardians,  by  Industrial 
School  committees,  and  by .  the  benevolent 
societies,  of  which  Dr.  Barnardo's  is  the 
chief.  These  children — the  most  precious 
of  Great  Britain's  exports — are  known  in 
Canada  as  "  Home  boys  "  and  "  Home  girls." 
My  interest  in  them  had  been  early  aroused 
by  Mr.  W.  D.  Scott,  the  Superintendent  of 
Immigration. 

"  Of  all  the  people  your  country  sends  to 


204  THE    TWO   ONTARIOS 

Canada,"  he  said  when  visiting  me  in  the 
steerage  of  the  Empress  of  Britain,  "  the 
children  are,  from  many  points  of  view,  the 
most  valuable.  They  have  nothing  to  unlearn. 
We  receive  them  at  the  impressionable  age, 
with  their  characters  still  unformed.  Their 
ideas  receive  the  Canadian  stamp.  They 
become  Canadians  from  the  start." 

Each  boy  is  apprenticed  to  a  farmer,  and 
is  periodically  visited  by  a  Government  in- 
spector, who  sees  that  the  little  chap  is  properly 
clothed  and  fed,  that  he  attends  school 
regularly,  and  that  the  farmer  treats  him  with 
kindness.  Dr.  Barnardo's  Homes,  and  the 
other  institutions,  have  their  own  independent 
staffs  of  inspectors,  whose  sole  function  is  to 
pay  surprise  visits  to  the  little  agricultural 
apprentices . 

At  Ottawa  Mr.  Scott  introduced  me  to  his 
Chief  Inspector  of  British  Immigrant  Children 
and  Receiving  Homes,  Mr.  G.  Bogue  Smart, 
than  whom  I  never  met  a  Government  official 
who  took  a  more  enthusiastic  interest  in  his 
duties. 

"  It's  the  most  wonderful  work  of  the  age," 
he  declared.  '  Think  how  handicapped  the 
poor  little  fellows  would  be  if  they  remained 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  205 

in  the  Old  Country.  And  see  how  splendidly 
they  turn  out  in  the  new  country.  No  other 
class  of  immigrants  shows  anything  like  the 
same  ratio  of  successes.  More  than  95  per 
cent,  of  these  boys  prove  quite  satisfactory. 
What  is  more,  fully  7  5  per  cent,  of  them  remain 
on  the  land.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  say  so, 
but  really  I  feel  that  the  present  system  of 
inspection  is  immensely  valuable.  It  shows 
a  parental  interest  on  the  part  of  the  State, 
and  that  not  only  has  a  fine  influence  on  the 
boy,  but  it  impresses  his  employer  with  the 
necessity  to  take  care  of  him.  In  rare  cases 
a  farmer  is  tyrannical,  and  the  lad  is  at  once 
removed  ;  but  the  great  majority  of  farmers 
and  farmers'  wives  treat  the  boys  like  their 
own  sons.  Here,"  he  added,  taking  up  a  docu- 
ment, "  is  a  recent  return  dealing  with  1,719 
boys  visited  by  our  inspectors,  who  report  that 
1,671  were  in  '  very  good  health,'  40  in  '  good 
or  fair  health,'  and  only  8  in  '  indifferent  or 
unsatisfactory  health.'  ' 

"  And  you  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  good 
homes  for  all  the  children?  "  I  asked. 

Mr.  Smart  smiled. 

"  Why,"    he    exclaimed,    "  the    supply    falls 
ludicrously  short  of  the  demand.      Here  are 


206  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

some  precise  figures  :  During  the  past  nine 
years  we  received  19,034  child  immigrants, 
and  during  that  period  we  received  130,825 
applications  for  children.  Obviously  there  re- 
mains very  little  prejudice  against  these  young- 
sters. That  prejudice  was  based  upon  theories 
of  heredity  and  of  the  influence  attributed  to 
early  environment ;  but  the  whole  fabric  of 
fallacies  is  knocked  to  smithereens  by  the  facts . 
Take  this  one  fact,  for  instance  :  during  the 
past  three  years,  from  among  all  the  British 
Poor  Law  boys  under  the  care  of  this  Depart- 
ment, there  has  only  been  one  who  was  charged 
with  a  criminal  offence.  What  other  class  of 
the  community,  I  should  like  to  know,  could 
show  as  clean  a  record?  " 

In  an  earlier  chapter  I  spoke  of  State-aided 
immigration  from  our  cities  as  a  promising 
Imperial  experiment.  The  immigration  of 
these  youngsters  may  be  described  as  a 
triumphant  Imperial  achievement.  For  the 
British  Government  defrays  the  cost  of  the 
periodical  inspection  carried  out  by  the 
Canadian  Government. 

Into  the  life  of  a  "  Home  "  boy  in  his  early 
teens  my  wanderings  yielded  an  insight. 

Among   the   prosperous   Ontario   farmers    I 


LOADING   UP   PUMPKINS  :  ON   A   FARM   IN   OLD  ONTARIO. 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  207 

visited  was  one  of  whom  I  gained  some 
particulars  from  his  wife. 

"  Yes,  it's  a  pretty  farm,  isn't  it  ?  "  she  said, 
in  hearty  endorsement  of  my  praise.  "  It 
cost  700  dollars,  which  seemed  a  lot  of 
money  at  the  time,  but  my  husband  felt  sure 
it  was  good  value.  He  was  right,  too,  for 
we've  been  able  to  pay  off  the  last  instal- 
ment a  year  before  it  was  due.  That  makes 
it  so  nice  now  we  know  everything  is  paid  for. 
My  husband  just  hates  being  in  debt,  and  I 
don't  think  it's  very  nice  either.  I  expect  him 
in  directly — I'm  sure  you'd  like  to  meet  him. 
He's  not  a  great  talker,  but  he  does  like  seeing 
any  one  who  comes  from  England.  Not  that 
he  remembers  as  much  about  it  as  I  do.  But 
of  course  I  came  out  with  my  people  several 
years  after  he  did,  and  he  was  only  a  little 
boy  when  he  left." 

'  The  joke  was,"  this  vivacious  young 
woman  was  presently  remarking,  "  everybody 
said  I  was  silly  to  marry  him .  My  two  brothers 
and  some  cousins  of  ours  made  quite  a  fuss 
about  it.  Just  as  though  it  was  any  business 
of  theirs,  too  !  They  said  I  ought  to  do  better 
than  marry  a  Barnardo  boy,  as  he  was  sure 
not  to  be  steady.  That  is  so  funny  if  you 


208  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

know  Charles,  especially  if  you  also  know  the 
young  gentlemen  who  were  so  free  with  their 
advice.  They  all  smoke — though  I  don't  think 
much  of  that — but  two  of  them  have  been 
known  to  drink  rather  more  than  is  good  for 
them;  and  that's  very  different.  Charles 
doesn't  do  either  ;  and  anybody  who  has  seen 
their  places,  and  then  comes  and  sees  ours, 
wouldn't  have  much  doubt  who  was  the  best 
farmer." 

"  I  suppose  they  are  more  reconciled  to  your 
marriage  now?  "  I  ventured. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  laughed  the  lady.  '  They  and 
Charles  are  the  best  of  friends,  and  they  all 
look  up  to  him — they  can't  help  doing  so.  But 
it  always  amuses  me  to  think  of  what  they 
used  to  say.  -As  for  my  brother  Fred — he's 
come  to  believe  there's  no  living  creature  to 
equal  a  Barnardo  boy.  He's  got  one  on  his 
farm,  and  every  Sunday,  when  my  brother  and 
his  wife  come  to  dinner,  we  are  sure  to  hear 
something  fresh  about  their  wonderful  little 
Sammy.  He  certainly  seems  to  be  quite  a 
treasure  of  a  boy.  When  my  brother  is  doing 
a  bit  of  carpentering,  or  any  other  odd  job, 
Sammy  is  sure  to  be  by  his  side,  ready  to  help. 
And  he  helps  in  the  right  way  ,  too — Fred 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  209 

doesn't  have  to  tell  him.  One  day  my  brother 
was  up  a  ladder,  putting  some  new  boards 
on  the  side  of  the  stable,  and  he  couldn't  get 
a  nail  out ;  so  he  was  just  coming  down  to 
find  the  pincers — but  there  was  Sammy  holding 
them  up  for  him  !  He  knew  what  Fred  wanted 
almost  before  Fred  did. 

"  Sammy  doesn't  talk  much,"  she  prattled 
on,  "  but  he  is  so  wonderfully  thoughtful.  It 
really  used  to  be  a  most  untidy  house — I  can't 
help  saying  so — but  Sammy  has  altered  all  that. 
My  sister-in-law  is  rather  absent-minded,  you 
know,  and  it  was  nothing  unusual  for  her  to  be 
half  the  afternoon  hunting  high  and  low  for 
something  she  had  mislaid.  Now  all  she  has  to 
do  is  to  ask  Sammy — he  always  knows  where 
everything  is.  But  the  best  joke  was  when  my 
brother  forgot  to  shut  the  stable  door.  It 
wasn't  until  next  morning  he  remembered  that 
he  didn't  do  it.  Off  he  went  in  a  great  state, 
because  he  knew  the  calves  would  be  sure 
to  be  out,  and  most  likely  he'd  find  them  tramp- 
ling down  the  oats.  But,  to  his  surprise,  the 
stable  door  was  shut  all  right.  Sammy  had 
seen  to  that.  Then  it  came  out  that  every 
night,  after  my  brother  has  finished  work  and 
gone  into  the  house,  Sammy  makes  it  a  rule 

The  Golden  Land.  15 


210  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

to  go  round  all  the  out-houses,  just  to  satisfy 
himself  that  everything  is  all  right.  Poor  Fred 
— how  we  do  chaff  him  !  It  does  show  such  a 
lovely  want  of  confidence  on  the  boy's  part. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  they've  both  come  to  rely 
so  much  on  Sammy  that  goodness  knows  what 
they  would  do  without  him.  He's  such  an  old- 
fashioned  little  chap,  and  so  unselfish.  They 
are  always  saying  how  much  they  would  like 
to  adopt  him,  but  I  say  it  would  be  more 
reasonable  the  other  way  round.  Sammy 
ought  to  do  the  adopting.  I'm  sure  he's  quite 
a  mother  to  both  of  them." 

These  little  glimpses  of  domestic  life  have 
perhaps  assisted  the  reader  to  realise  the 
advanced  condition  of  the  greater  part  of  Old 
Ontario.  Her  adventurous  young  men,  indis- 
posed to  pay  local  prices  for  developed  farms, 
have  for  some  time  been  migrating  to  terri- 
tories where  they  could  acquire  land  for 
nothing,  or  nearly  nothing.  And  in  this  con- 
nection Ontario  has  a  genuine  grievance  against 
fate. 

The  fame  of  the  Prairie  Provinces  had  been 
trumpeted  to  the  world.  All  Canada  was  ring- 
ing with  details  of  the  magnificent  opportunities 
awaiting  industrious  men  away  in  the  West. 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  211 

On  the  other  hand,  the  agricultural  possi- 
bilities of  New  Ontario  were  not  known,  or,  at 
any  rate,  not  appreciated.  Information  on  the 
subject  was  scrappy,  and  what  facts  were 
accessible  had  not  yet  been  diffused.  The 
great  project  of  the  Grand  Trunk  Pacific  trans- 
continental line — which  was  to  pass  right 
through  the  heart  of  New  Ontario — had  not 
yet  been  carried  out.  People  were  slow  to 
grasp  the  significance  of  the  Provincial  Govern- 
ment's line — the  Temiskaming  and  Northern 
Ontario  Railway,  which  runs  from  North  Bay, 
on  the  C.P.R.,  to  Cochrane,  on  the  new  Grand 
Trunk  Pacific  route,  a  distance  of  252  miles. 
In  a  word,  New  Ontario  had  not  been  boomed, 
and  the  Prairie  Provinces  had  been  boomed. 
Hence  it  has  come  about  that  the  adventurous 
young  men  of  Old  Ontario,  instead  of  migrat- 
ing to  the  northern  sections  of  their  own 
province  (which  would  have  involved  a  com- 
paratively small  cost  for  transportation,  and 
a  comparative  proximity  to  the  homes  and 
friends  they  were  leaving  behind),  have  joined 
the  ever  -  increasing  stream  of  immigrants 
pouring  across  the  continent  to  Manitoba, 
Saskatchewan,  and  Alberta. 

Some  comparison  between  New  Ontario  and 


212  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

the  Prairie  Provinces  becomes,  at  this  point, 
inevitable.  It  is  not  easy  to  make  that 
comparison.  Where  conditions  are  various, 
generalisations  are  apt  to  be  dangerous .  There 
are  many  different  sorts  of  prairie,  and  there 
are  many  different  districts  in  New  Ontario. 
But  certain  broad  facts  may  be  stated  as  having 
a  general  application. 

The  clearing  of  the  ground,  as  a  prelim- 
inary to  cultivating  it,  is  a  much  slower,  more 
arduous,  and  more  costly,  operation  in  New 
Ontario  than  on  the  prairie.  For  New  Ontario 
is  heavily  timbered,  whereas  much  of  the 
prairie  is  only  covered  with  scrub.  On  the 
other  hand,  there  are  better  wage-earning 
opportunities  in  New  Ontario  than  on  the 
prairie  ;  that  is  to  say,  men  who  have  taken 
up  land  in  New  Ontario  can  finance  themselves, 
during  the  earlier  years,  by  occasionally  work- 
ing for  a  few  months  in  the  mines,  the  log- 
ging camps,  the  lumber  mills,  or  the  numerous 
factories . 

A  comparison  between  New  Ontario  and  Old 
Ontario  is  also  inevitable.  The  former  cannot 
hope  to  compete  with  the  latter  in  vineyards, 
peach  orchards,  and  tobacco  plantations.  But 
as  fine  grain  and  vegetables  can  be  grown  in  the 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  213 

one  as  in  the  other.  There  are  shorter  winters 
in  the  south,  but — to  compensate  for  this — 
there  are  longer  days  in  the  north.  In  latitude 
and  climate,  northern  Ontario  roughly  corres- 
ponds to  southern  Manitoba. 

For  the  rest,  the  agricultural  possibilities  of 
New  Ontario  have  been  triumphantly  demon- 
strated by  the  pioneer  farmers  who  have  reared 
crops  and  herds  in  that  country,  and  who,  by 
the  way,  are  finding  a  good  market  for  their 
produce  in  the  mines,  the  mills,  the  factories, 
and  the  camps. 

The  Great  Clay  Belt— a  tract  of  land 
running  400  miles  east  and  west  through 
New  Ontario,  and  embracing  about  1 6,000,000 
acres — is  proving  of  exceptional  fertility,  and 
giving  remarkable  results  in  peas,  beans, 
clover,  lucerne,  and  the  other  leguminous 
crops.  That  Belt  is  tapped  by  the  Government 
line  and  by  the  section  of  the  Grand  Trunk 
Pacific  that  is  already  constructed.  It  follows 
that  in  this,  the  south-eastern,  corner  of  New 
Ontario,  settlement  is  already  far  advanced. 

In  one  district  traversed  by  the  Government 
line — the  district  of  Temiskaming — there  are 
already  more  than  60,000  inhabitants.  Among 
the  towns  that  have  sprung  up  along  the  line 


214  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

are  New  Liskeard  (with  a  population  of 
3,000),  Haileybury  (with  a  population  of 
4,000)  and  famous  Cobalt  (with  a  population 
of  5,500).  The  Federal  Government  has 
established  an  experimental  farm  near  the 
Grand  Trunk  Pacific  junction,  and  it  is  officially 
reported  that  "  fine  samples  "  of  wheat  have 
been  produced  there,  and  that  apples  and  other 
fruits  are  now  receiving  attention. 

I  was  discussing  that  district  with  a 
Canadian  who  knows  it  well,  and  he  said : 
"  New  Ontario  is  a  splendid  country  for  a  type 
of  Englishman  who  is  found  in  all  classes  of 
society.  I  mean  the  man  who  is  robust  in 
body  and  in  spirit — the  man  who  relishes  a 
spice  of  adventure  in  his  life — the  man  with 
pioneering  blood  in  his  veins — in  one  word, 
a  sport." 

I  like  that  word.  It  is  a  little  slangy  per- 
haps, but  it  applies.  Certainly  the  intending 
emigrant  to  New  Ontario  should  ask  himself 
the  question,  "  Am  I  a  sport?  "  To  make  the 
position  clearer,  I  will  give  an  actual  instance 
of  a  man  who  is  a  sport,  and  whose  wife  is 
another . 

Mr.  Jack  looked  very  haggard  for  so  young 
a  man,  especially  in  comparison  with  Mrs. 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  215 

Jack,  who  inclines  to  be  plump.  They  made 
the  stranger  welcome  with  a  seat  by  the  stove. 
Yet  I  was  not  entirely  a  stranger,  since  I  came 
from  London  and  knew  West  Ham.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Jack  came  from  West  Ham.  They 
offered  me  the  choice  of  beer  or  milk,  and 
then  Mr.  Jack  explained  why  there  was  no 
plaster  on  the  laths. 

"  I've  had  eleven  months  of  misfortune,"  he 
said.  "  Been  on  my  back  with  some  sort 
of  rheumatism.  And  that's  why  these  walls 
never  got  finished.  There  I've  laid  helpless 
as  a  baby,  and  so  weak  I  had  to  be  fed  with 
a  spoon.  I  dunno  what  sort  of  rheumatism 
they  call  it.  But  it's  a  sort  that  nearly  settles 
you." 

"  When  they  brought  him  in  here,"  chirruped 
his  wife,  "  I  made  sure  he  was  going.  I  told 
my  next-door  neighbour  so.  '  Jack's  come 
home,'  I  said,  '  but  he's  only  come  home  to 
die.'  And  Christmas  Day,  too  I  " 

"  I  quite  thought  the  same,"  he  said.  "  I 
couldn't  move,  and  I  hollered  out  if  any  one 
touched  me — the  pain  was  so  bad.  But  here  I 
am,  all  right  again — at  least,  nearly  all  right. 
It's  left  my  muscles  terribly  stiff,  and  that's  why, 
in  starting  to  work  again,  I've  begun  with  a 


216  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

whitewashing  job.  It  pays  out  my  arms  a 
treat,  but  I  fancy  it's  getting  the  cramp  out 
of  'em." 

"  Funny  to  have  Jack  back  at  whitewash- 
ing I  "  soliloquised  his  laughing  wife.  She  was 
evidently  very  much  amused.  I  did  not  quite 
see  the  point. 

We  were  at  Earl's  Court,  the  Toronto  suburb 
whose  English  inhabitants,  as  I  indicated  in 
a  previous  chapter,  work  in  factories,  and  at 
other  jobs  appropriate  to  city  toilers.  What 
was  there  so  funny  in  Mr.  Jack,  late  of  West 
Ham,  turning  his  hand  to  house-decorating? 

"  It's  the  trade  I  followed  in  the  Old 
Country,"  he  said  apologetically.  "  And,  after 
doing  nothing  for  a  twelvemonth,  I'm  satisfied 
to  be  back  at  work,  no  matter  what  it  is." 

Which  remark  did  not  make  the  position  any 
clearer  to  me. 

"  And  who  do  you  think,"  broke  in  the 
vivacious  lady,  "  was  the  breadwinner  while 
Jack  was  on  his  back?  I  was  !  Oh,  yes — I 
can  earn  my  nine  dollars  a  week  house-clean- 
ing down  in  the  city.  What's  more,  I  enjoyed 
it." 

"  If  Liz  hadn't  turned  to,"  Mr.  Jack  un- 
grudgingly confirmed,  "  goodness  knows  what 


THE   TWO  ONTARIOS  217 

would  have  become  of  us.  Fortunately,  we'd 
paid  for  the  land  and  house,  and  didn't  owe 
a  cent.  But  my  money  from  the  last  camp 
didn't  keep  us  going  for  more  than  three 
months,  what  with  doctor's  bills  and  one  thing 
and  another." 

"What  camp  was  that?"   I  asked. 

"  Logging  away  north  of  Cobalt,"  he  ex- 
plained. "  And  before  that  I  was  with  a 
mining  gang.  That's  the  sort  of  life  !  When 
I  first  came  out  I  started  in  the  radiator  shop, 
the  same  as  one  might  do  in  the  Old  Country. 
But  as  soon  as  I  heard  of  New  Ontario  I 
pricked  up  my  ears  ;  and  it  wasn't  long  before 
I  started  off  to  try  my  luck  out  there.  It  just 
suited  me.  The  cities  are  all  very  well  for 
those  who  like  'em,  but  give  me  the  lakes 
and  the  forests.  It's  better  money  for  one 
thing  ;  but  what  I  like  about  it  is  the  freedom. 
Wait  till  I  get  my  joints  in  working  order  ! 
I'll  soon  be  back  there." 

"And  I  shall  go  with  him,"  Mrs.  Jack 
averred . 

"  Yes,  I  had  Liz  with  me  in  one  camp,  and 
she  quite  took  to  the  life.  Of  course,  we've 
always  got  this  home  to  come  back  to  when 
we  want  a  change." 


2i8  THE   TWO   ONTARIOS 

'  You  wouldn't  believe  what  he's  gone 
through,"  exclaimed  the  exuberant  lady,  as  she 
eyed  her  husband  with  unmistakable  pride. 
"  He  could  tell  you  something — sleeping  on 
the  coffin  of  a  murdered  man,  and  I  don't 
know  what  all  !  Tell  him  some  of  the  things, 
Jack.  Go  on — tell  him  about  the  Mace- 
donian." And  her  high-spirited  shudder 
served  to  whet  my  curiosity. 

"  Oh,  that  was  a  poor  fellow  who  was  help- 
ing to  blast  rocks  for  the  new  railroad,"  Mr. 
Jack  modestly  narrated.  "  He  had  a  leg  and 
half  his  face  blown  away  ;  and  when  he  was 
dead,  one  of  his  mates  got  to  work  on  a  box 
to  put  him  in.  But  he  made  it  too  small, 
which  caused  a  lot  of  trouble  ;  and  I  shall 
never  forget  seeing  them  row  out  with  it  to 
the  island.  There  was  no  clergyman,  so  they 
couldn't  have  a  proper  funeral ;  and  when  they 
got  to  the  island  the  ground'  was  all  rocks. 
But  the  strange  part  was  that  this  poor  Mace- 
donian hadn't  any  relations  or  friends  in 
Canada,  and  nobody  knew  what  his  proper 
name  was  or  anything  about  him,  so  they 
couldn't  put  up  any  tombstone." 

"  And  now  tell  him,"  came  Mrs.  Jack's  eager 
suggestion,  "  about  your  journey  from  North 
Bay." 


THE   TWO   ONTARIOS  219 

"  Well,  you  must  know,"  began  her  com- 
pliant lord,  "  that  the  winter  set  in  just  as 
I  was  taken  bad,  and  there  I  lay  in  camp,  all 
swollen  and  inflamed,  with  shooting  pains  all 
over  me.  The  lake  had  just  been  frozen  when 
a  lot  of  snow  fell,  and,  you  see,  that  made  a 
sort  of  warm  blanket  to  prevent  the  ice  getting 
thicker.  So  I  was  there  for  three  weeks,  wait- 
ing for  the  lake  to  bear ;  and  it  would  have 
been  longer  still  if  my  mate,  with  another, 
hadn't  gone  across  and  beaten  out  a  trail,  to 
give  the  frost  a  better  chance.  Even  then 
it  wasn't  safe  for  a  horse,  so  my  mate,  with 
that  other  chap,  took  and  dragged  the  sledge 
themselves . 

'  What  with  the  cold  and  the  bumping,  I 
shan't  forget  that  journey  as  long  as  I  live  ; 
and  I  don't  suppose  the  other  two  will  either. 
It  took  a  long  time  getting  over  the  lake,  and 
I  don't  know  how  many  more  hours  before  we 
reached  the  railway  for  North  Bay.  My  mate, 
who  had  been  nursing  me  night  and  day  before 
then,  was  fairly  played  out,  and  the  moment 
he  got  on  the  train,  he  just  bent  over  and 
went  off  to  sleep  like  a  log.  It  being  Christmas 
time,  the  car  was  jambfull  of  passengers,  most 
of  them  pretty  lively.  I  told  the  conductor 


220  THE   TWO  ONTARIOS 

how  it  was  with  me,  and  I  begged  him  to 
find  me  a  corner  where  I  could  lay  down  and 
be  quiet.  So  he  and  another  train -man  took 
hold  of  me  between  them,  and  got  me  along 
to  the  mail-van.  But,  owing  to  all  the  Christ- 
mas letters  and  parcels,  that  was  about  as  full 
as  it  would  hold.  I  just  fell  down  on  a  heap 
of  mail-bags,  and  soon  I  felt  several  more  bags 
come  tumbling  over  on  top  of  me.  Not  that 
I  minded  about  that ;  but  the  next  I  remember 
was  a  couple  of  fellows  lifting  me  out  of  there. 
They  said  they'd  find  me  a  place  where  I'd 
be  out  of  the  way,  if  I  didn't  mind  sleeping 
on  the  coffin  of  a  murdered  man.  Then  they 
lifted  me  up,  and  next  minute  I  was  lying 
on  something  hard  and  level.  I  knew  who  was 
underneath  me — the  poor  chap  that  had  been 
killed  down  the  line ;  for  the  news  had  come 
to  our  camp  before  we  left.  But,  the  way  I 
felt  it  didn't  make  any  difference  to  me 
whether  I  was  on  a  coffin  or  anything  else. 
But  I  couldn't  help  feeling  it  was  a  funny 
way  to  be  spending  Christmas  Eve." 


CHAPTER    XIII 
WOMEN  SETTLERS 

Grumblers  and  optimists — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Y and  their 

untidy  shack — A  paralysed  pig  and  broken  plough — 

The  lady's  lament — Mr.  and  Mrs.  C from  Chelsea 

— Persian  rugs  and  old  oak  on  the  prairie — An  artist's 
strange  experiences — Left  with  the  baby  on  a 
snowed-up  train — Farming  without  knowledge — 

Crop  failures  and  dying  stock — How  Mrs.  C saved 

the  situation — A  head  waitress  and  her  story — Con- 
fessions of  a  cultured  lady — Quaint  preparation  for 
Canada — Girls  I  interviewed  at  Vancouver — Testi- 
mony of  an  ex-school  teacher — Canadian  children  : 
a  nursemaid's  impressions — The  dressmaker  and  her 
mother — My  visit  to  their  cosy  flat — Immigration 
experiences  of  a  pet  dog — Why  the  old  lady  attends 
Salvation  Army  services — A  girl's  appreciated 
draughtsmanship — Shopping  in  England  and  Canada : 
a  comparison — Questions  I  put  to  servant-girls — 
Reasons  for  their  contentment — Abrupt  proposals 
of  marriage. 

OUT    on    the    prairie    I    met    many    English 
housewives.      If    asked    to    classify    them,    I 


222  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

should  be  tempted  to  say :  a  small  minority 
are  grumblers  ;  a  large  majority  are  optimists. 

As  to  the  former,  one  could  only  regret  that, 
in  the  interests  of  all  parties,  they  did  not 
remain  in  the  sedate  suburban  world  where  the 
milkman  calls  twice  a  day.  The  latter  are 
making  Central  Canada  what  Central  Canada 
is  rapidly  becoming — a  country  of  attractive, 
prosperous,  and  happy  homes. 

I  have  already  introduced  into  this  book  a 
typical  example  of  the  right  sort  of  woman  for 
Canada.  Her  name  is  Mrs.  Fisher,  and  you 
will  find  her  in  Chapter  IV. 

Let  us  now  glance  briefly  at  a  sample  of  the 
wrong  sort. 

On  a  beautiful  quarter-section  of  rich  soil 
in  Southern  Alberta  I  beheld  a  shack  that  was 
very  amateurish  in  construction.  Obviously 
the  people  who  lived  there  were  still  at  the 
stage  of  struggle  and  stress. 

I  found  out  all  about  them. 

A  dissatisfied  chemist  in  England,  and 
scarcely  knowing  a  horse  from  a  cow,  Mr. 

Y ,  on  arriving  in  Canada  at  the  age  of  40, 

made  the  mistake— alas  I  so  common— of  at 
once  taking  up  his  own  homestead.  He 
should,  of  course,  have  hired  himself  for  the 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  223 

first  season  to  an  established  settler,  with  whom 
he  would  have  acquired  a  practical  knowledge 
of  Canadian  farming.  He  thought  he  knew 
what  he  did  not  know,  and  acted  on  his  ignor- 
ance, with  the  inevitable  result  that  several 
years  have  been  wasted  in  costly  bungling. 

Then,  too,  while  Mr.  Y-  -  obviously  has  a 
great  love  for  farming,  he  seems  to  have  little 
natural  aptitude  for  it.  He  is  this  sort  of  man  : 
he  bought  a  pig  that  proved  to  be  paralysed  ; 
he  bought  an  ox  without  suspecting,  until  too 
late,  that  it  was  dying  of  tuberculosis.  I  found 
him  mourning  over  his  plough.  It  seemed 
that,  having  broken  the  wheel,  he  had  sent 
for  another  one  (forgetting  to  state  dimen- 
sions). He  was  two  days  trying  to  fit  the  new 
wheel  before  he  discovered  that  it  was  of  the 
wrong  size.  And  by  that  time  he  had  broken 
the  plough. 

In  fairness  to  Mrs.  Y I  mention  these 

facts,  by  way  of  illustrating  her  environment. 
For  the  rest,  she  shall  speak  for  herself. 

;'  Here's  a  nice  sort  of  place,  isn't  it,"  she 
remarked,  "for  a  lady  to  live  in?  And,  you 
know,  I'm  not  accustomed  to  this  sort  of  thing. 
It  might  be  different  for  anybody  who  had 
been  brought  up  just  anyhow.  But  my  father 


224  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

was  in  a  bank,  and  I  was  always  used  to  0. 
respectable  home,  with  a  servant  and  every- 
thing. But  this— oh,  it's  too  dreadful." 

Now  she  came  to  mention  it,  I  was  bound 
to  admit  (to  myself)  that,  of  the  many  shack 
interiors  I  had  seen,  this  was  the  most  untidy 
and  dirty.  Wallpaper  patched  with  newspaper, 
two  skirts  hanging  from  a  nail  that  also  held 
a  picture,  boots  and  books  in  a  pile  on  the 
sofa— things  like  that  certainly  lent  colour  to 
the  lady's  criticism. 

"  When  Herbert  came  over  to  England  and 
married  me,"  she  went  on,  "  I  never  dreamt 
I  was  coming  out  to  anything  like  this.  It  isn't 
fair.  And  such  a  dreadful  wild  country,  too, 
with  no  proper  society." 

"  Have  you  no  neighbours  ?  "  I  asked  in  my 
innocence . 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  but  I  don't  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  them,  thank  you  !  They  are 
not  at  all  the  sort  of  people  I  should  care  to 
know.  If  my  elder  sister  hadn't  been  able  to 
come  out  and  be  a  little  company  for  me,  I'm 
sure  I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done. 
She  doesn't  think  it's  a  nice  place  to  live  in 
either  !  I  expect  she'll  be  in  soon— she's  gone 
out  to  give  baby  an  airing." 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  225 

That  interior  assumed  a  new  interest  with  the 
discovery  that  there  were  two  ladies  to  look 
after  it.  But  my  attention  was  called  in 
another  direction. 

"  Have   you   seen  our  fowls?"   Mrs.  Y— 
suddenly  asked. 

I  felt  it  was  rather  an  embarrassing  ques- 
tion, for  I  had  seen  the  poor  things. 

'  Well,  can  you  say  what's  the  matter  with 
them?  "  she  asked  triumphantly.  '  There  they 
are,  moping  and  hanging  their  heads  and  dying 
off  one  after  the  other  ;  and  as  for  eggs— well, 
we  haven't  seen  such  a  thing  for  nearly  six 
months." 

I  had  a  very  definite  idea  what  was  amiss 
with  those  unhappy  birds  ;  and,  as  gently  as 
possible,  I  was  entering  into  particulars 
when 

"  Oh,  no  ;  it  can't  be  that,"  corrected  the 
lady,  a  trifle  haughtily.  '  They  receive  every 
attention.  No— I  think  it  must  be  the  climate. 
People  are  able  to  keep  fowls  all  right  in 
England." 

"Do  you  do  any  gardening?  "  I  asked,  to 
change  the  subject. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  haven't  time,"  Mrs.  Y-  -  ex- 
plained. '  You  see,  there's  baby." 

The  Golden  Land.  \Q 


226  WOMEN   SETTLERS 

So  much  for  the  two  extremes—  Mrs.  Fisher, 
the  ideal  prairie  housewife;  and  Mrs.  Y  --  , 
who  ought  to  be  deported. 

Of  course,  many  of  the  optimists,  while 
taking  everything  very  good-naturedly  from 
the  outset,  are  some  time  before  they  adapt 
themselves  to  the  conditions  of  life  in  Canada. 
In  this  connection  I  recall  the  case  of  Mrs. 


I  was  sitting  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C-  -  in  that 
charming  room  of  theirs  which,  with  its  Persian 
rugs,  Dutch  dresser,  Delft  pots,  and  old  oak 
chairs,  was  such  a  surprising  place  to  find  in 
Southern  Saskatchewan;  and  Mr.  C—  -  asked 
me,  rather  abruptly  : 

"  Have  you  ever  realised  that  you  have  made 
an  absolute  ass  of  yourself?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon?  "  I  stammered,  won- 
dering to  which  particular  episode  in  my  life 
he  was  referring. 

"  Because  I  have,"  Mr.  C—  -  went  on,  re- 
vealing a  purely  egotistical  application  to  his 
inquiry.  "  Listen,  and  I'll  tell  you  about  it. 
Five  years  ago  I  was  a  harmless,  respectable 
artist  living  in  Chelsea,  and  making—  well,  a 
comfortable  living  by  illustrating  books  and 
magazines.  Art  was  my  profession,  I  had 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  227 

worked  at  it  all  my  life.  I  knew  nothing  of 
any  other  trade  or  calling.  Now  note.  A 
friend  of  mine  used  to  drop  into  my  studio  and 
talk  about  Canada.  He  was  an  enthusiast. 
I  suppose  he  had  caught  the  back-to-the-land 
fever  about  as  badly  as  a  man  can  catch  it. 
Not  content  with  talking,  he  lent  me  books  and 
pamphlets.  What  was  the  result?  I  decided 
that,  as  an  ordinary  measure  of  prudence  and 
worldly  wisdom,  I  must  at  once  sell  up  my 
small  possessions  and  start  farming  in  Canada. 
As  for  Milly— well,  womanlike,  and  anxious  at 
all  costs  for  adventure,  she  was  only  too 
willing." 

"  Come,    now,    I    do    like    that  !  "    laughed 

astounded  Mrs.  C .   "Why,  he  was  positively 

crazy  about  it— could  talk  and  think  of  nothing 
else— used  to  lie  awake  at  night  trying  to  decide 
how  he  should  spend  all  the  money  he  was 
going  to  make  in  Canada.  Of  course,  I  had  to 
consent." 

Mr.  C-  -  waved  aside  his  wife's  interrup- 
tion as  irrelevant.  '  The  only  fact  of  import- 
ance," he  said,  '*  is  that  we  came.  We  came 
with  a  matter  of  £2,000.  Now,  how  did  I 
apply  that  money?  " 

"  But   you've   forgotten   about   the   baby  !  " 


228  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

broke  in  Mrs.  C .     "  Surely  the  baby  is  a 

fact  of  importance  ?  " 

"  In  a  way— yes,"  Mr.  C-  thoughtfully 
admitted.  "  I  apologise  for  omitting  the  baby 
from  my  narrative.  It  was  like  this.  In  our 
eagerness  to  get  here  by  the  spring,  we  arrived 
before  the  winter  was  over.  Our  train  got 
snowed  up— badly  snowed  up.  We  were  only 
fifty  miles  from  our  journey's  end,  but  there 
we  were— stuck  fast.  Three  days  went  by,  and 
the  position  began  to  be  serious.  There  was 
no  more  food  on  the  train  !  However,  com- 
munication was  opened  up  with  neighbouring 
farmers,  who,  with  great  hospitality,  invited 
the  passengers  to  dinner  and  sent  sleighs  to 
fetch  them  in.  Milly  and  my  little  daughter 
went  off  with  one  of  the  parties,  and  I  stayed 
behind  with  the  baby.  A  quarter  of  an  hour 
afterwards  the  train  started  !  Now,  I  don't 
know  whether  you  have  ever  been  cut  off  from 
feminine  assistance  when  you  have  a  baby 
literally  on  your  hands.  I  confess  that,  for 
one  lucid  second,  the  question  passed  through 
my  brain, — '  How  came  I  to  be  in  such  a  pre- 
dicament out  on  that  great  white  landscape  ; 
what  in  the  world  was  I  up  to  ?  '  But  the  train 
stopped,  Milly  returned,  and  that  momentary 
misgiving  was  forgotten . 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  229 

"  And  so,"  continued  Mr.  C—  — ,  "  I  come  to 
the  farming.  How  did  I  begin?  Did  I  inquire 
for  an  agricultural  college  where  I  might  pick 
up  a  smattering  of  my  new  profession?  No. 
Did  I  engage  myself  to  a  farmer  in  order  to 
acquire  some  little  practical  experience?  Cer- 
tainly not.  Did  I  begin  with  a  modest  quarter- 
section  that  had  about  forty  acres  broken  ?  No, 
sir.  A  humble  start  like  that  might  be  all  very 
well  for  the  English  farmer  who  came  out  with 
us;  but  my  ambition  was  of  wider  range.  I 
bought  four  adjoining  cultivated  quarter- 
sections— that  is  to  say,  I  bought  a  solid  square 
mile  of  farm  land.  Well,  of  course  certain 
accessories  were  necessary — horses,  ploughs, 
pigs,  and  things  like  that ;  so  I  arranged  with 
some  firms  to  supply  whatever  was  usual.  Also 
I  engaged  two  young  fellows  to  help  me  with 
the  work.  Then  I  began— painting  during  the 
morning,  farming  during  the  afternoon.  I 
expect  you  can  guess  the  rest." 

"  Poor  Teddy  !  "  murmured  Mrs.  C ,  with 

a  laugh  that  was  half  a  sigh. 

'  Yes,"  he  agreed  ;    "  and  poor  Milly  !  " 

'You     did    not     succeed    very    well?"     I 
hazarded . 

"  I'm  afraid  not,"  she  said.     "  You  see,  our 


230  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

hired  girl  did  not  get  good  results  with  the 
dairying,  and  I  was  much  too  ignorant  to 
correct  or  direct  her.  The  two  young  men 
were  obviously  both  incompetent  and  idle,  but 
Teddy  was  hardly  in  a  position  to  supply  their 
deficiencies." 

"  The  crops  all  failed,"  groaned  Mr.  C . 

"  Horses  died,"  supplemented  Mrs.  C-  — . 

"  I  overheard  neighbouring  farmers  speak  of 
me  as  '  that  dear  old  duck,'  '  deplored  the 
gentleman. 

"  On  the  children's  behalf,  I  began  to  get 
anxious,"  confessed  the  lady. 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  C ,  "  occurred  the  grand 

transformation.  It  was  all  due  to  Milly.  She 
came  to  me  one  day  and  said  she  was  going 
round  to  Mrs.  Shotter's  for  her  first  lesson  in 
butter -making.  She  also  said  Mrs.  Franklin 
had  promised  to  teach  her  how  to  milk  a  cow. 
I  further  gathered  that  she  was  looking  to  some 
other  neighbour  for  hints  on  poultry  manage- 
ment. At  first  I  was  more  amused  than  any- 
thing else.  But  when  Milly  produced  the  first 
pound  of  butter  she  had  made,  its  excellence 
set  me  thinking.  And  when  I  found  her  de- 
tecting all  sorts  of  egregious  mistakes  in  our 
pig  department,  I  did  more  than  think. 


ARRIVAL   AT  QUEBEC  OF   A    PARTY  OF   WOMEN    IMMIGRANTS  CONDUCTED 
BY  THE   SALVATION   ARMY. 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  231 

Realising  for  the  first  time  that  I  knew  nothing 
whatever  about  farming,  and  that,  in  point  of 
fact,  I  had  been  behaving  like  an  absolute 
ass,  I  set  humbly  to  work,  a  la  Milly,  to  learn 
things." 

"  He  has  been  so  splendid  !  "  exclaimed  his 
wife.  "  You  should  see  him  manage  the 
horses.  We  are  never  late  now  with  the 
ploughing.  Teddy  has  built  a  stable  that 
people  say  is  as  strong  as  a  church.  And  we 
are  beginning  to  make  such  a  lot  of  money  ! 
We  had  bumper  crops  last  year  ;  our  wheat 
graded  No.  i,  and  we  took  a  first  for  oats.  I 
suppose  I  ought  not  to  say  '  we,'  "  she  added 
in  a  merry  parenthesis,  "  though  I  did  lend 
a  hand  with  the  stocking.  And  this  year  the 
crops  look  even  better." 

'  Yes,  they  don't  call  me  '  that  dear  old 
duck  '  now,"  said  Mr.  C . 

So  much  for  the  prairie  housewives— perhaps 
the  most  valuable,  and  valued,  class  in  Canada. 
I  also  took  note  of  another  class  that  is  held 
in  high  esteem  throughout  the  Dominion- 
women  immigrants  who  work  for  wages. 

A  slight  toothache  was  the  means  of  intro- 
ducing me,  at  Revelstoke,  in  British  Columbia, 
to  two  interesting  and  typical  cases.  During 


232  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

dinner  I  shifted  from  a  table  near  the  open 
window  to  one  less  exposed  to  draught,  and 
the  head  waitress,  not  unnaturally,  wanted  to 
know  what  I  did  it  for.  A  simple,  good- 
hearted  soul,  she  tarried  awhile  to  gossip  with 
a  fellow-Cockney,  the  conversation  shifting 
from  myrrh  and  chloroform  to  the  fine  oppor- 
tunities Canada  affords  for  persons  who  don't 
mind  work. 

The  part  of  London  she  came  from,  it 
seemed,  was  Battersea,  where  her  receipts  from 
mangling  served  but  inadequately  to  fill  the 
void  that  occurred  when  her  husband,  who  was 
a  carman,  could  not  get  employment.  So  he 
preceded  her  to  Canada,  the  pay  from  his  job 
in  a  Revelstoke  brewery  enabling  her  to  follow 
him  three  months  later. 

'  Then  the  manager  here  saw  Tom  one  day," 
narrated  my  new-found  friend,  "  and  asked  him 
if  he'd  care  to  be  hotel  porter,  and  he  should 
have  the  same  wages  as  he  was  getting  at  the 
brewery.  But,  as  Tom  said,  he  was  well  off 
where  he  was,  and  the  people  seemed 
satisfied ;  so  he  was  much  obliged,  but 
he  thought  he'd  sooner  stay  where  he 
was.  But  the  manager  spoke  to  him  again 
after  that,  and  said  there  was  his  rooms 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  233 

he  was  paying  for  and  all  his  food,  and  if  he 
came  to  the  hotel  he'd  have  the  same  money 
and  his  bedroom  and  board  thrown  in.  So 
Tom  told  him  he'd  have  to  keep  his  lodgings 
all  the  same,  seeing  I  was  on  my  way  out  to 
join  him.  And  that's  what  settled  it,  because 
the  manager  said  they  would  take  me  too  ;  and 
if  I'd  give  a  hand  in  the  kitchen,  just  for  an 
hour  every  morning  to  clean  the  forks  and 
spoons,  that'd  cover  my  meals." 

For  the  rest,  husband  and  wife  had,  it 
seemed,  risen  quickly  from  one  sphere  of 
service  to  another,  until  now,  after  being  two 
years  in  the  establishment,  she  was  head 
waitress  and  he  was  in  charge  of  the  bar,  the 
salary  of  each  being  more  than  twice  as  much 
as  they  were  jointly  earning  in  the  Old 
Country.  Since,  moreover,  they  no  longer  had 
to  pay  for  board  and  lodging,  they  were  faced 
with  the  pleasant  problem,  for  the  first  time 
in  their  lives,  of  deciding  how  accumulated 
savings  could  most  advantageously  be  invested. 

The  hotel  management— I  ventured  to  point 
out— had  secured  two  very  capable  persons. 
But  she  would  not  hear  of  such  a  thing. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  was  eager  to  assure  me ; 
"  it's  the  same  with  everybody  else  in  this 


234  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

country.  I  don't  mean  those  who  won't  work, 
and  won't  put  themselves  to  any  trouble  about 
anything.  They're  no  good  here  or  anywhere 
else.  But  anybody  that  isn't  quite  a  fool,  and 
has  got  enough  sense  to  know  you  can't  have 
anything  in  this  world  if  you  don't  work  for 
it— that  sort  can't  help  doing  well  in  Canada. 
To  know  that,  you've  only  got  to  see  the  way 
everybody  gets  run  after.  In  London,  where 
there'd  be  work  for  one,  you'd  find  twenty 
trying  for  it.  Out  here  it's  all  the  other  way— 
there's  twenty  jobs  waiting  for  everybody  that 
wants  to  work.  I  could  go  from  here  to- 
morrow to  more  hotels  than  one,  if  I  wasn't 
satisfied,  and  get  jest  as  good  money  ;  so  could 
my  husband.  There's  nine  places  out  of  ten 
where  they  wouldn't  look  at  any  one  else  if 
they  could  get  somebody  from  England.  They 
know  you  can  depend  on  them.  Of  course, 
having  been  used  to  nice  ways  in  the  Old 
Country,  they're  more  careful  to  keep  the  place 
clean  than  any  one  else  might  be.  The 
manager  of  the  hotel— he's  Canadian,  but  he 
always  tells  me  to  get  English  girls  if  I  can. 
The  last  one  I  got  is  an  English  lady  born— 
any  one  can  see  that.  She  is  so  very  nice,  and 
so  cheerful  over  her  work,  and  you  never  have 


WOMEN   SETTLERS  235 

to  ask  her  twice  to  do  anything.  From  a  word 
now  and  again  that  she's  dropped,  I  can  see 
she's  been  used  to  have  servants  wait  on  her. 
You  can  know  she's  had  plenty  of  money  by 
all  the  countries  she  and  her  mother  used  to 
go  to.  They  must  have  travelled  half  over  the 
world— jest  to  pass  the  time.  But  from  what 
I  can  understand,  when  the  mother  died  some- 
thing happened  to  all  the  money,  so  the 
daughter  was  left  without  a  penny  and  had 
to  turn  to  and  earn  her  own  living." 

My  curiosity  was  aroused  ;  and  later  in  the 
evening,  by  arrangement,  the  head  waitress 
brought  her  assistant  to  the  drawing-room,  that 
she  might  meet  the  gentleman  from  England 
who  was  going  to  write  a  book. 

Miss  R ,  a  middle-aged  lady  of  culture 

and  education,  gave  me  supplementary  details 
about  herself. 

;<  Unfortunately,"  was  her  smiling  way  of 
putting  it,  "  I  had  never  learnt  to  do  anything 
useful.  I  did  not  realise  my  deficiencies  until 
one  day  I  found  that,  for  the  future,  I  must 
earn  my  own  living.  It  was  most  humiliating 
to  find  myself  so  unprepared  for  the 
emergency.  The  women  writers,  the  typists, 
the  dressmakers,  the  shop  assistants— how  I 


236  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

envied  the  knowledge  and  training  that  enabled 
them  to  play  a  useful  part  in  the  world,  while 
I  was  an  utterly  incompetent  and  superfluous 
person.  I  even  found  myself  looking  with  a 
new  and  strange  respect  at  a  girl  who  was 
cleaning  a  doorstep. 

"  However,  I  got  a  post— as  companion  in 
a  clergyman's  family  at  Manchester.  But  it 
was  not  at  all  satisfactory.  It  did  not  surprise 
me  that  the  clergyman  and  his  family  could 
not  accept  me  as  an  equal.  I  hardly  expected 
they  would;  and  I  knew  how  thoroughly  I 
deserved  their  dignified  aloofness.  For  in  days 
gone  by  I,  too,  had  looked  down  upon  com- 
panions and  persons  of  that  class.  What  made 
the  position  unendurable  was  the  attitude  of 
the  servants.  I  did  think  I  was  entitled  to  be 
received  by  them  on  a  footing  of  equality  and 
good  feeling.  But  no  ;  they  treated  me  with  a 
sort  of  spiteful  respect,  as  though  I  were 
a  superior,  but  one  who  was  rather  con- 
temptible. Between  the  two  I  felt  completely 
ostracised." 

"  And  so  you  decided  to  come  to  this 
country?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  smilingly  replied.  "  And  how 
do  you  think  I  prepared  myself  for  Canada? 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  237 

Why,  I  attended  a  cookery-class,  and  learnt 
how  to  make  dainty  cakes,  with  sugar-icing 
and  all  manner  of  recherche*  embellishments. 
It  really  was  a  dreadful  insult  to  the  Canadian 
people,  wasn't  it?  But  it  never  occurred  to 
me  that  they  would  be  too  busy/  and  much  too 
sensible,  to  want  to  eat  things  like  that.  I 
have  been  in  the  country  three  months  now, 
but  three  days  were  enough  to  show  me  that, 
instead  of  wasting  my  time  over  fancy  cookery, 
I  ought  to  have  learnt  milking  and  butter- 
making,  or  something  else  really  useful." 

'  You  arrived  only  three  months  ago  I  "  I 
exclaimed.  "  Please  let  me  know  what  ex- 
periences you  have  had." 

'  I'm  afraid  there's  not  much  to  tell.  I 
came  out  through  Miss  Lefroy  and  the  British 
Women's  Emigration  Society.  I  didn't  s,top 
anywhere  until  reaching  Calgary,  and  as  soon 
as  I  got  there  the  agent  asked  me  if  I  wanted 
an  engagement.  I  said  '  Yes.'  Then  she  said 
some  one  was  required  in  a  hotel  at  Banff, 
and  did  I  think  that  would  suit  me?  I  said  I 
really  hadn't  any  definite  preferences.  Well, 
could  I  go  at  once?  she  asked.  Yes— I  thought 
I  could.  So  the  end  of  it  was  I  caught  the 
next  train  to  Banff,  and  the  same  evening  was 


238  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

duly  initiated  into  my  new  duties.  I  was 
placed  in  charge  of  a  number  of  rooms,  and 
all  I  had  to  do  was  to  keep  them  clean  and 
tidy  and  make  the  beds." 

'  Did  you  find  the  drudgery  very  irksome  ?  ' 
I  asked. 

"  Not  at  all,"  Miss  R heartily  testified. 

'  In  fact,  I  enjoyed  the  work,  and  soon  began 
to  regard  my  smooth  coverlets  and  my  polished 
mirrors  with  the  pride  of  an  artist.  Then,  too, 
after  the  merely  nominal  remuneration  I  re- 
ceived in  the  clergyman's  family,  it  was  very 
satisfactory  to  be  earning,  not  only  my  board 
and  lodging,  but  £i  55.  a  week  in  addition, 
for  the  pay  was  25  dollars  a  month.  But  what 
I  appreciated  most  was  the  unaffected  friendli- 
ness of  everybody,  and  the  fact  that  one  was 
not  looked  down  upon  for  doing  menial  work. 
That,  I  think,  is  the  great  charm  of  this 
country— every  one  treats  every  one  else  as  an 
equal.  It  comes  as  such  a  delightful  surprise 
after  the  social  distinctions  and  class  barriers 
that  exist  in  England." 

I  asked  Miss  R—  -  why  she  left  beautiful 
Banff. 

"  It  was  only  a  temporary  engagement,"  she 
explained,  "  as  the  hotel  is  closed  in  the  winter. 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  239 

One  of  the  girls  told  me  of  the  vacancy  here, 
and  as  the  salary  was  the  same  and  this  hotel 
is  open  all  the  year,  I  applied  for  the  post. 
I  have  fewer  rooms  to  look  after  than  at  Banff, 
though  occasionally,  at  times  of  pressure,  I 
help  wait  at  table.  But  I  always  have  the 
afternoons  to  myself,  and  I  really  believe  I 
never  enjoyed  better  health  or  found  life  more 
interesting  than  I  do  now.  There— that,  I 
think,  completes  my  revelations." 

"  And  your  work  is  in  every  way  con- 
genial?" I  persisted. 

1  Well,  perhaps  that  would  be  going  a  little 
too  far,"  was  her  laughing  rejoinder.  "  For 
instance,  once  or  twice,  when  I  have  gone  into 
a  room  to  make  the  bed,  I  have  found  a  tipsy 
man  there.  But  one  learns  how  to  act  in  these 
unpleasant  little  emergencies ;  and,  on  the 
whole,  I  assure  you  I  am  having  a  very  good 
time.  Of  course,  the  novelty  of  it  all  has  not 
yet  worn  off.  Don't  you  consider  the 
Canadians  very  ingenious  and  interesting? 
One  thing  that  amuses  me  very  much  is  their 
practice  of  moving  houses  bodily  from  one 
street  to  another.  I  was  in  the  habit  of  going 
to  a  book -shop  and  drug-store  here  ;  but  one 
day,  when  I  went  there,  it  had  mysteriously  dis- 


24o  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

appeared.  I  happened  to  turn  round,  and,  to 
my  utter  amazement,  there  was  the  shop  going 
down  the  road  !  You  can't  imagine  a  thing 
like  that  happening  in  London .  Fancy  meeting 
one  of  the  Bond  Street  shops  on  its  way  to 
Trafalgar  Square  !  " 

So  ended  our  chat ;  and  I  afterwards  found 
myself  wondering  how  far  Miss  R 's  ex- 
periences and  impressions  were  shared  by  her 
wage -earning  compatriots  in  Canada.  At 
Vancouver  I  put  that  issue  to  a  test.  Staff- 
Captain  Wakefield  told  me  of  the  hundreds  of 
girls  and  women  annually  transplanted  from 
Great  Britain  to  that  city  by  the  Salvation 
Army,  and  I  said  I  should  like  to  meet  some 
of  them.  So  he  dictated  the  first  two  dozen 
names  and  addresses  he  found  on  his  cards  ; 
and  I  set  off  on  a  house-to-house  visitation. 
It  kept  me  busy  for  two  days  and  an  after- 
noon. 

At  tea-rooms  in  the  centre  of  the  city  I  intro- 
duced myself  to  Miss  W ,  who  had  been  a 

teacher  in  Glasgow,  and  whose  typical  Scotch 
face  reflected  sweetness  and  common  sense. 

"  There's  no  comparison  between  Canada 
and  the  Old  Country,"  she  declared  with  un- 
patriotic enthusiasm.  '  Wages  are  much 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  241 

higher  here  and  hours  are  shorter.  Take  my 
own  case.  I  am  receiving  nine  dollars,  or 
thirty-six  shillings,  a  week,  which  is  a  good 
deal  more  than  I  got  for  teaching.  Then,  too, 
I  don't  have  to  pay  for  meals,  which  used  to 
make  a  heavy  inroad  on  my  wretched  Glasgow 
salary.  I  share  very  nice  lodgings  with 
another  girl  in  a  rooming  house,  and  we  each 
pay  two  and  a  half  dollars,  or  ten  shillings, 
a  week  for  them.  Of  course,  one  could  get 
cheaper  quarters  than  that,  but  we  both  feel 
comfort  is  worth  paying  for.  I  am  only  on 
duty  for  eight  hours  a  day,  and  the  times  are 
arranged  in  shifts.  This  week,  for  instance, 
I  come  on  at  eleven  and  leave  at  seven  ;  next 
week  I  begin  earlier  and  get  off  at  three.  So 
one  has  quite  a  lot  of  time  to  oneself.  Besides, 
everybody  on  the  staff  has  a  full  day's  holiday 
once  in  three  weeks." 

'  Then,  on  the  whole— may  I  assume— you 
do  not  regret  coming  to  Canada  ?  " 

"  I  wouldn't  go  back  for  anything,"  was  Miss 
W-  -'s  emphatic  reply.  '  This  country  is  fine. 
I  like  the  people,  and  I  simply  love  the  climate. 
It  is  so  delightful  to  have  a  real  summer  and 
a  real  winter.  Of  course,  everything  has  its 
drawbacks.  At  first  I  very  much  missed  the 

The  Golden  Land.  17 


242  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

home-life  I  was  used  to.  And  I  still  miss  the 
mental  side  of  my  old  work.  As  a  teacher 
one  has  to  do  a  lot  of  reading.  The  work  of 
a  waitress  is  rather  too  remote  from  that  sort 
of  thing  to  satisfy  me  entirely.  However, 
Canada  offers  plenty  of  openings,  and  when  I 
am  tired  of  being  a  waitress  I  can  do  some- 
thing else." 

Strolling  to  the  delightful  residential  suburb 
of  English  Bay,  I  called  at  the  house  where 

Mary  P acts  as  housemaid.     Showing  me 

into  a  handsome  sitting-room,  the  conscientious 
girl  explained  that  she  could  not  spare  many 
minutes  as  she  had  a  lot  of  work  to  do. 

"  It  costs  you  more  to  dress  in  this  country," 
she  pointed  out.  "  But  look  how  much  more 
money  one  earns .  I  was  getting  £  I  a  month  in 
Scotland,  and  I'm  getting  £3  a  month  here. 
There's  plenty  to  be  done,  mind  you.  Houses 
that  would  have  three  servants  in  the  Old 
Country  often  have  only  one  here.  But  a  girl 
doesn't  mind  working  hard  if  she  is  nicely 
treated  ;  and  in  Canada  a  servant  is  made  to 
feel  herself  quite  one  of  the  family." 

'  You   have   plenty   of   time   to   yourself  ?  ' 
I  asked. 

"  Yes,  and  I  could  have  more  if  I  wanted  it. 


WOMEN   SETTLERS  243 

When  I  came,  it  was  arranged  that  I  should 
have  Sunday  afternoons  off  and  three  evenings 
a  week.  But,  you  see,  I'm  with  the  children 
so  much,  on  the  beach  and  in  Stanley  Park, 
that  I  really  don't  want  so  many  evenings  out, 
and  I  mostly  prefer  to  stop  at  home,  especially 
if  there's  something  to  be  done,  and  Mrs.  Hunt 
would  have  to  do  it  alone  if  I  wasn't  there  to 
help." 

I  asked  for  her  opinion  of  Canadian 
children . 

'  They  are  not  any  different  from  other 
children,"  said  Mary.  "  Our  four  are  pretty 
lively,  but  very  nice.  They  don't  seem  to  have 
toys  much  in  this  country,  but  they  love  to 
play  at  romping  games—especially  when  they 
pretend  to  be  Red  Indians.  They  are  very 
cute,  and  just  now  it's  a  great  joke  with  them 
that  they  are  getting  to  be  Scotch  children 
through  eating  the  Scotch  scones  I  make  them. 
They  go  about  the  house  singing,  '  Mary,  my 
Scotch  Lassie  '  !  " 

Miss  T ,  when  I  saw  her  at  the  Hudson 

Bay  Stores,  could  not  spare  time  for  a  chat ; 
but  she  told  me  where  she  lived,  and  said,  if 
I  cared  to  call,  she  and  her  mother  would  be 
pleased  to  see  me. 


244  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

That  evening,  at  their  cosy  little  £40  flat, 

Miss  T showed  me  into  a  room  where  I 

found  a  gentle -mannered  old  lady  and  a  little 
dog  which,  being  so  obviously  anxious  to  bite 
my  leg,  had  to  be  banished  to  the  kitchen. 

I  had,  it  seemed,  happened  upon  one  of  four 
sisters  who,  unaided  by  male  relative  or  private 
means,  had  to  support  themselves  and  their 
invalid  mother.  This  had  not  been  too  easy 
when  they  lived  at  Maida  Vale  ;  and  so,  ten 
months  before,  they  had  emigrated  to  Canada— 
they  and  their  dog  and  their  piano,  with  certain 
prized  chimney  ornaments. 

The  old  lady  still  spoke  of  that  great  adven- 
ture with  bated  breath  and  a  devout 
thankfulness. 

'  Wans't  it  wonderful — not  one  of  the  vases 
got  broken  !  But  poor  Joe  did  have  a  bad 
time  on  the  voyage.  He  had  to  be  kept  in  a 
part  of  the  ship  right  away  from  us.  Only 
they  very  kindly  let  us  see  him  every  day,  and 
the  girls  sometimes  took  him  for  a  run  on 
deck.  The  railway  journey  was  the  worst 
though.  He  wasn't  allowed  to  come  with  us  ; 
he  had  to  travel  all  by  himself  in  a  freight 
train.  Poor  Joe  ! — you  can  imagine  how 
terribly  he  fretted." 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  245 

But  the  little  brute  had  not  gone  the  right 
way  to  work  to  engage  my  sympathies  ;  and 
so,  offering  no  comment  on  his  immigration 
experiences,  I  inquired  how  the  old  lady  had 
fared  on  the  journey. 

"  Oh,  everything  was  very  nice,"  she  replied. 
'  I  quite  enjoyed  it— especially  on  the  train. 
And  I  had  been  so  dreading  it  all  !  I'm  sure 
everybody  was  most  kind.  And  as  for  Staff- 
Captain  Wakefield,  he  has  indeed  proved  a 
friend.  Being  strange  to  the  city,  I  don't  know 
what  we  should  have  done  without  him.  In 
all  our  difficulties  we  turned  to  the  Army,  be- 
cause they  said  that's  what  they  were  there  for, 
and  we  needn't  mind  how  much  we  bothered 

them.  And  do  you  know,"  Mrs.  T. went  on, 

lowering  her  voice  confidentially,  "  we  are  not 
connected  with  the  Army  in  any  way.  I  told 
them  so— I  really  felt  bound  to  ;  but  they  said 
that  didn't  make  any  difference— they  had 
brought  us  out,  and  they  wanted  to  see  us 
comfortably  settled." 

And  even  as  she  spoke,  my  eyes  chanced 
upon  the  Bishop  of  London's  photograph  in 
its  neat  gilt  frame  on  the  piano. 

"  But,"  continued  the  gentle  old  lady,  "  I've 
made  a  point  of  going  to  one  or  two  Army 


246  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

services,   for,   after   they've   been   so   good  to 
us,  I  feel  that's  the  least  I  can  do." 

I  asked  if  all  the  girls  were  dressmakers. 

"  No  ;  one's  a  nurse,  and  another  is  a  tele- 
phone operator,"  Mrs.  T-  -  explained.  "  Then 
my  eldest  girl  does  draughtsmanship.  She 
was  the  only  one  who  didn't  get  an  en- 
gagement as  soon  as  we  arrived.  You  see,  it 
was  new  in  Canada  for  a  girl  to  do  work  like 
that.  The  Vancouver  surveyors  were  quite 
amused  about  it  at  first.  But  one  firm  agreed 
to  give  Milly  a  trial,  and  they  are  so  very 
pleased  with  her.  They  say  hers  are  by  far 
the  best  plans  that  are  done  in  the  office." 

"  And  are  your  girls  satisfied  with  the 
salaries  they  receive  in  this  country  ?  '  I 
asked. 

"  My  word  !  "  answered  the  old  lady,  as  she 
threw  up  her  eyes  and  her  mittened  hands. 
"  I  never  heard  of  such  salaries  for  girls  to 
be  getting.  Why,  they  are  all  earning  more 
than  twice  as  much  as  they  were  earning 
before.  But  the  great  thing  is  that  it's  steady 
employment  all  the  time.  In  London  there 
was  usually  one,  and  often  two,  out  of  a  berth. 
That  is  what  used  to  trouble  them— posts  were 
so  very  hard  to  get." 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  247 

For  the  country  as  a  whole,  and  for  Van- 
couver in  particular,  Mrs.  T had  nothing 

but  praise.  I  found  that  she  also  liked  the 
people  and  the  weather.  But  my  inquiries  at 
last  touched  upon  a  matter  regarding  which, 
in  the  old  lady's  opinion,  Canada  is  far  behind 
her  native  land. 

"  I  must  say  you  don't  get  the  same  attention 
in  the  shops,"  she  mildly  deplored.  "  I'm  not 
saying  the  Vancouver  assistants  may  not  be 
just  as  polite  in  their  way,  but  they  don't  take 
the  same  pains.  They'll  bring  you  what  they 
think  you  want,  and  that's  the  end  of  it— you 
can  take  it  or  not,  just  as  you  please.  They 
don't  give  themselves  the  trouble  really  to  show 
you  what  they've  got  in  stock,  so  that  you  can 
have  several  things  to  choose  from,  and  per- 
haps in  the  end  find  something  to  suit  you  that 
is  quite  different  from  what  you  first  asked 
for." 

"  No,  mother  dear,"  interposed  the  Hudson 
Bay  machinist,  "  they  haven't  the  same  fear 
of  what  may  happen  if  a  customer  doesn't  buy 
anything." 

I  afterwards  interviewed  several  girls  who 
had  exchanged  domestic  service  on  one  side  of 
the  Atlantic  for  domestic  service  on  the  other 


248  WOMEN    SETTLERS 

side.  They  laid  but  minor  stress  on  their  im- 
proved wages.  What  they  liked  most  about 
Canada,  they  told  me,  was  that  they  were  con- 
sidered as  good  as  other  people,  and  if,  when 
their  work  was  done,  they  wanted  to  run  out 
and  post  a  letter  or  get  something,  they  hadn't 
got  to  ask  permission. 

A  girl's  chances  of  finding  a  congenial 
partner,  and  settling  down  in  life,  accounted, 
I  found,  for  a  large,  if  somewhat  frivolous, 
element  in  the  interest  they  took  in  the  country 
of  their  adoption.  Such  embarrassment  as 
they  experienced  in  this  connection  arose,  so 
far  as  I  could  understand,  from  a  super- 
abundance, rather  than  from  any  dearth,  of 
opportunity. 

'  I  never  saw  such  a  daft  lot  of  fellows," 
declared  a  laughing,  pretty  Cumberland  lass. 
"  I  can  hardly  go  a  day  without  one  of  the 
great  big  sillies  wants  to  marry  me.  With 
some  of  them  it's  almost  the  first  word  when 
they're  introduced.  And  so  solemn  they  are 
over  it,  too  !  They've  got  farms  in  the  country, 
they  say,  and  they  are  doing  nicely  ;  but  they 
want  a  wife  to  look  after  the  house— did  you 
ever  hear  such  impudence  ?— and  be  a  little 
company  for  them,  poor  dears  !  " 


WOMEN    SETTLERS  249 

I  ventured  to  probe,  at  my  next  interview, 
for  similar  experiences. 

"  Have  I  had  any  proposals  !  "  echoed  the 
astonished  young  lady.  "  That's  rather  a 
strange  question,  isn't  it  ?  " 

However,  she  graciously  decided  not  to  be 
offended. 

'  Yes,  I've  had  a  lot,"  that  alert  London 
girl  avowed,  a  trifle  scornfully.  "  It  began  on 
the  journey,  when  we  were  passing  through 
the  prairie  country — a  farmer  who  came  part 
of  the  way  on  the  train.  I've  no  patience 
with  'em." 

From  another  girl  my  impudent  inquiry  met 
with  a  reception  of  marked  coyness.  She  had 
been  in  Canada  only  three  months.  But  the 
date  of  her  marriage  was  already  fixed. 

'  I  met  him  at  the  Salvation  Army,"  she 
confessed  with  blushing  impetuosity  ;  "  and  he 
is  so  nice." 


CHAPTER    XIV 
EDUCATION 

England  and  Canada  compared — Imagination  and  reality 
— Vigorous  vitality  of  new  traditions — Embryo  towns 
and  the  telephone — Education  in  the  Prairie  Pro- 
vinces— An  enlightened  curriculum —  Object-lessons 
from  Nature — My  visit  to  a  prairie  school — Quotations 
from  the  blackboard — What  the  little  girls  were 
doing — Signalling  in  silence — Interview  with  a 
schoolmaster — Canada's  social  problems — Retired 
farmers  and  their  empty  lives — Educating  the  second 
generation — A  nation  of  optimists — Climate  and 
happiness — Canada's  future. 

A  NEW  country  is  apt  to  be  associated,  in  the 
imagination  of  persons  who  have  never  been 
there,  with  makeshift  social  arrangements.  Its 
conditions  are  assumed  to  be  a  pathetic 
burlesque  of  modern  civilisation.  Life  out 
there  is  understood  to  have  a  primitive,  almost 
a  Robinson  Crusoe,  touch. 

But  such  misgivings  are  baseless.     It  is  a 
250 


EDUCATION  251 

mistake  to  suppose  that  the  new  country  begins 
where  the  Old  Country  began.  It  is  not  even 
true  that  the  new  country  reflects,  in  its  social 
amenities,  the  most  backward  portions  of  the 
Old  Country.  The  village  pump,  the  village 
idiot,  and  doddering  Giles  have  no  counterparts 
across  the  Atlantic.  Central  Canada  is  not 
handicapped  by  any  surviving  relics  of  Feudal 
times,  or  even  of  the  mid-Victorian  era.  It 
is  developing  with  the  vigorous  vitality  of  new 
traditions  that  belong  to  the  North  American 
continent— a  'continent  that  has  already  pro- 
duced one  young  nation  of  colossal  strength 
and  is  now  producing  another. 

In  Canada  I  saw  a  little  embryo  town  that 
was  only  two  months  old.  But  the  houses  were 
fitted  with  telephones  and  electric  light  as  a 
matter  of  course.  For  historical,  aesthetic,  and 
personal  reasons,  I  delight  in  my  native  land. 
But  in  practical  matters  of  social  evolution 
England,  as  compared  with  Canada,  is  a 
museum  of  red  tape  and  paralysing  precedents. 

Yet  I  must  confess  that  even  to  me— who 
had  twice  journeyed  across  Canada,  and  was 
familiar  with  its  spirit— the  Elementary  and 
High  Schools  of  the  Prairie  Provinces  came  as 
a  surprise.  It  was  in  my  mind  that  the  British 


252  EDUCATION 

immigrant  must  surely  find,  in  his  new  sphere, 
some  disadvantage  to  set  against  a  better 
livelihood  and  a  brighter  climate .  As  the  only 
thing  I  could  think  of,  I  pictured  him  with 
impaired  opportunities  for  the  mental  training 
of  his  children. 

Humbly  apologising  to  the  provincial 
Governments,  I  fully  recant  that  ludicrous 
error.  Those  Governments  have  established 
a  system  of  popular  education  that  is  free, 
universal,  unsectarian,  and  so  sound  and 
attractive  that  it  scarcely  needs  to  be  com- 
pulsory. The  system  is  kept  healthy  and 
democratic  by  the  large  measure  of  control 
vested  in  local  trustees  and  meetings  of  rate- 
payers. The  system  is  kept  to  the  highest 
attainable  pitch  of  efficiency  by  the  activities 
and  generous  expenditure  of  Departments  of 
Education,  with  their  ministers,  deputy-minis- 
ters, and  advisory  boards. 

Educational  facilities  are  promptly  pro- 
vided in  newly-settled  districts.  The  presence 
of  ten  children  is  enough  to  justify  a  school. 
Where  a  journey  of  more  than  one  mile  is 
involved,  provision  is  frequently  made  for  the 
free  transportation  of  the  children  from  and 
to  their  homes.  For  the  rest,  having  learnt 


EDUCATION  253 

what  to  teach,  the  teachers  are  taught  how  to 
teach. 

The  school  curriculum  furnishes  abundant 
proof  that  the  authorities,  instead  of  slavishly 
following  custom,  have  had  the  courage  to 
think  things  out  for  themselves.  Thus  the 
subjects  taught  in  the  Manitoba  schools  include 
arithmetic,  purity  of  thought,  history,  reading, 
industry,  writing,  cleanliness,  the  proper  treat- 
ment of  animals,  geography,  and  correct 
breathing. 

I  cannot  resist  quoting  an  item  or  two  from 
the  programme  of  studies.  Thus  :  "  The 
planting  of  a  potato  or  a  potato  section  by 
each  pupil.  Observation  of  growth  from  week 
to  week.  Keeping  a  record  of  this."  Again  : 
'  The  study  of  such  birds  as  live  near  the  water 
or  frequent  the  meadows.  Special  reference 
to  the  red-winged  blackbird,  bobolink,  and 
meadow-lark."  Here  is  a  word  of  admonition 
addressed  to  the  Saskatchewan  teacher  by  his 
employers :  "  He  should  carefully  guard 
against  the  child's  knowledge  of  history 
becoming  a  jumbled  mass  of  useless  and  un- 
related facts.  .  .  .  Training  the  moral  judg- 
ment and  preparation  for  intelligent  citizen- 
ship are  important  aims  in  teaching  this 


254  EDUCATION 

subject."  In  connection  with  Nature  study, 
provision  is  made  for  "  short  field  excursions 
for  purposes  of  observation  "  ;  while  it  is  laid 
down  that,  by  actual  experiment,  pupils  are 
to  be  instructed  in  the  "  methods  of,  and 
reasons  for,  digging,  hoeing,  raking,  watering, 
shading,  planting,  transplanting,  &c.,  in  con- 
nection with  garden  crops." 

Alighting  from  the  train  at  Qu'Appelle  in 
Saskatchewan,  and  taking  a  direction  at 
haphazard,  I  set  out  to  gain  some  personal 
knowledge  of  education  on  the  prairie. 
Presently  meeting  a  long,  box-like  wagon  full 
of  wheat,  I  asked  the  driver  if  he  would  kindly 
direct  me  to  the  school. 

"  Which  school  ?  "  he  asked,  a  little 
reproachfully. 

"  The  nearest,"  I  explained. 

This  was  rather  a  poser  for  him.  If  I  went 
back  two  miles,  he  explained,  I'd  find  a  school 
in  the  town.  Also  I'd  find  one  if  I  went  two 
miles  farther  on.  There  was  another  school, 
it  seemed,  away  to  the  right— a  bit  over  two 
miles,  he  thought  that  was.  Then  again,  there 
was  a  school  away  to  the  left— he  rather  fancied 
that  was  under  two  miles,  though  a  stranger 
might  easily  miss  the  way. 


EDUCATION  255 

I  continued  straight  on,  and  in  half  an  hour 
came  to  a  substantial-looking  stone  building 
standing  by  the  roadside.  It  was  wrapped  in 
quietude  and  there  was  no  one  about.  How- 
ever, swings  in  the  garden  looked  promising, 
and  so,  entering  the  lobby,  I  pushed  open  the 
door  of  one  of  the  rooms  and  peeped  in. 

At  a  table  on  a  dais  stood  a  young  lady  with 
a  pleasant  expression,  a  book  in  her  hand. 
Standing  immediately  before  her  were  three 
little  girls  with  eager,  upturned  faces.  Some 
dozen  or  so  other  little  girls  sat  at  the  desks 
which,  arranged  in  rows,  with  intervening 
gangways,  occupied  most  of  the  floor  space. 

Entering,  I  attempted  to  justify  my  in- 
trusion, and  was  received  with  cordial  courtesy 
by  the  schoolmistress,  and  with  no  little  interest 
by  her  beaming  class.  On  the  understanding 
that  work  should  go  forward  exactly  as  if  no 
stranger  were  present,  I  went  and  took  up  my 
post  of  observation  on  a  back  bench. 

A  line  of  blackboards  extended  across  three 
of  the  walls,  which  were  further  embellished 
by  charts,  maps,  and  bouquets  of  autumn 
foliage.  Some  expert  hand,  employing  white 
and  coloured  chalks,  had  drawn  admirable 
designs,  in  addition  to  birds,  rabbits,  and 


256  EDUCATION 

flowers,  on  areas  of  the  blackboards  not  utilised 
for  poetry,  mottoes,  sums,  and  music  notation. 
Concluding  that  the  verses  had  been  put  there 
to  be  copied,  I  straightway  copied  the  follow- 
ing song  to  the  month  that  had  recently 
arrived  : 


u  Oh,  come  to  the  woods,  the  merry  green  woods, 

While  gaily  the  autumn  leaves  fall, 
Just  look  overhead,  'mid  leaves  brown  and  red, 

Where  squirrels  all  chatter  and  call — 
'October  is  here,  the  Queen  of  the  year.' 

Oh,  out  in  the  woods,  the  merry  green  woods, 

The  fairies  their  revels  will  keep  ; 
Then  when  it  is  dark,  comes  the  Frost  Spirit — hark 

He's  singing  the  flowers  to  sleep." 


I  also  took  note  of  one  of  the  exhibited 
maxims,  namely :  "  Politeness  is  to  do  and 
say  the  kindest  thing  in  the  kindest  way." 

While  thus  occupied,  I  was  watching  the 
proceedings  out  of  a  corner  of  my  eye.  The 
three  pupils  standing  before  the  teacher  were 
receiving  a  lesson  in  attention,  history,  and  the 
use  of  words.  From  her  book  the  gracious 
young  pedagogue  would  read  a  description  of 
some  stirring  episode  in  the  early  French 


EDUCATION  257 

occupation  of  Canada.  Then  one  of  the  pupils 
was  encouraged  to  give  an  account  of  the  affair 
in  her  own  juvenile  vocabulary ;  after  which, 
her  two  companions  were  in  turn  asked  to 
elucidate  certain  facts  that  belonged  to  the 
narrative . 

Meanwhile,  with  apparently  undistracted 
attention,  the  other  little  girls  were  improving 
their  minds  in  various  ways.  Some  were  read- 
ing, others  were  writing,  while  one  was 
dexterously  manipulating  modelling  clay  into 
wh^t  at  first  I  thought  was  going  to  be  a 
balloon,  though  it  rapidly  developed  into  a  very 
creditable  bullfinch.  A  child  somewhat  older 
than  the  others,  and  over  whose  shoulder  my 
position  enabled  me  to  glance,  was  translating 
simple  French  sentences  into  English. 

Each  scholar,  while  she  obviously  had  per- 
mission to  smile  her  full  and  feel  as  happy  as 
she  liked,  was,  I  observed,  under  a  disciplinary 
obligation  to  hold  her  tongue,  save  when  she 
was  spoken  to.  I  wondered  why  in  the  world 
one  healthy  little  mite  had  desisted  from  pen- 
manship to  hold  aloft  her  chubby  arm.  But 
presently,  looking  in  her  direction,  the  school- 
mistress said  : 

"Well,  Frances?" 

The  Golden  Land.  Jg 


258  EDUCATION 

"  Please,  how  do  you  spell  '  tortoise  '  ?  "  in- 
quired the  signaller. 

Books  and  writing  materials  being  laid  aside, 
the  entire  class  participated  in  a  music  lesson. 
The  teacher's  pointer  moved  from  note  to  note 
in  the  scale  on  the  blackboard,  and  the  well- 
trained  young  voices  rendered  the  intervals 
with  accuracy  and  enjoyment.  Then  they  sang 
songs,  other  lessons  following  ;  and  I  left  the 
school  with  a  conviction  that,  if  for  no  other 
reason,  British  parents  should  go  and  settle 
on  the  Canadian  prairie  to  ensure  a  thorough, 
comprehensive,  and  interesting  education  for 
their  children. 

It  was  also  in  Saskatchewan  that  I  inter- 
viewed the  headmaster  of  a  large  town  school. 
I  asked  if  he  observed  any  difference  between 
boys  who  were  born  in  Canada  and  boys  from 
the  British  Isles. 

"  Speaking  generally,"  he  replied,  "  British 
boys  show  a  readier  grasp  of  languages  and 
mathematics,  but  they  lack  initiative.  Now, 
the  Canadian  boy  is  apt  to  have  a  little  too 
much  initiative,"  he  added,  speaking  no  doubt 
with  a  schoolmaster's  bias,  though  certainly 
with  no  national  prejudice,  since  he  was  born 
in  Nova  Scotia. 


EDUCATION  259 

Conversation  turned  on  the  careers  of  his 
former  pupils,  and  I  was  surprised  to  learn  how 
many  follow  the  law,  commerce,  medicine, 
engineering,  and  architecture. 

'  You  see,"  he  explained,  "  the  people 
hereabouts  have  all  made  their  money  as 
farmers,  and  it  gratifies  them  to  spend  some 
of  it  in  turning  their  sons  into  professional  men. 
Another  factor  in  the  case,  of  course,  is  the 
restless  and  enterprising  temperament  of  youth, 
particularly  of  Canadian  youth.  The  lad  has 
been  brought  up  on  the  farm.  It  has  become 
for  him  a  familiar  and  commonplace  world. 
Upon  realms  outside  there  rests  the  glamour 
of  the  unknown.  What  Dad  did  was  all  very 
well  for  Dad  ;  the  youngster  is  set  on  doing 
something  different— something  more  interest- 
ing. To  counteract  these  tendencies  as  far  as 
possible,  the  Education  Departments  are 
fostering  Nature  study  in  the  Elementary 
schools,  developing  biology  in  the  High 
Schools,  and  introducing  special  agricultural 
courses  in  the  collegiate  institutes." 

This  led  us  to  consider  a  strange  position 
of  affairs.  The  social  problems  of  Great 
Britain  tend  to  turn  on  the  difficulty  of  the 
individual  to  gain  a  livelihood.  The  social 


26o  EDUCATION 

problems  of  Canada  arise  rather  from  the  fatal 
facility  with  which  money  is  made  there. 

"  Look  at  towns  like  this,"  said  the  school- 
master—" the  towns  you  find  all  along  the  rail- 
way lines  right  through  the  Prairie  Provinces. 
They  are  full  of  retired  farmers — men  who, 
after  ten  or  fifteen  years  of  grain -growing, 
have  saved  enough  money  to  keep  themselves 
in  idleness  for  the  rest  of  their  lives.  Could 
anything  be  more  pathetic  than  the  spectacle 
of  their  empty  lives?  There  they  sit  about  in 
the  hotels,  not  drinking  (as  a  rule  they  don't 
do  that),  just  glancing  at  the  newspaper  now 
and  again,  talking  a  little  but  not  much,  some- 
times quite  asleep  and  usually  half  asleep. 
When  they  were  at  work  they  paid  periodic 
visits  to  that  town .  It  was  the  one  urban  centre 
of  which  they  had  an  intimate  personal  know- 
ledge. In  that  town,  accordingly,  they 
anchored  themselves  on  selling  their  farms  and 
retiring  on  their  means.  And  I  think  it  is 
correct  to  say  that  they  are  left  with  only  one 
interest— to  meet  the  present-day  farmers  when 
they  drive  in,  and  to  hear  how  things  are  going 
out  on  the  prairie." 

Yes,  I  had  seen  them.  Often,  on  leaving 
my  hotel  after  breakfast,  I  noted  the  retired 


EDUCATION  261 

farmers  in  the  arm-chairs  facing  the  window  ; 
and  on  returning  several  hours  later,  I  would 
find  the  same  men  sitting  in  the  same  chairs. 

"  Why  in  the  world  don't  they  do  some- 
thing?" I  protested. 

"  Ah  1 "  replied  the  schoolmaster .  "  You  must 
remember  that  they  were  pioneers — men  who 
set  out  to  fight  the  world  with  little  schooling 
and  no  literary  culture.  Therefore,  now  in 
their  days  of  leisure  they  have  no  mental 
resources  to  fall  back  upon.  Hence  the  para- 
mount importance  of  education  in  a  new 
country.  By  training  the  mental  powers  of 
the  young  we  ensure  that  the  second  genera- 
tion on  the  land  will  be  men  of  wider 
intellectual  sympathies— men  who,  when  they 
have  made  fortunes  and  it  is  their  turn  to 
retire,  will  instinctively  take  up  with  some 
new  interest,  such  as  service  in  Parliament  or 
on  any  of  the  local  public  bodies." 

Having  criticised  those  retired  farmers  for 
being  idle  (and  having,  by  the  way,  previously 
called  other  rich  farmers  over  the  coals  for 
being  too  busy),  I  feel  bound  to  add  my  im- 
pressions of  Canadians  as  a  whole. 

People  in  England,  before  they  show  each 
other  hospitality  and  friendship,  have  to  be 


262  EDUCATION 

introduced.  Strangers  are  felt  to  be  rather 
suspicious  characters,  who  render  house-dogs 
necessary.  Out  in  Canada  the  idea  seems  to 
be  that  all  men  are  brothers.  The  population 
of  that  country  is  like  a  gigantic  family  of 
8,000,000  friends.  Everybody  goes  about 
with  an  isn't-it-nice-to-be-alive  and  a  you- 
really-must-stop-to-dinner  sort  of  air. 

I  think  the  climate  has  a  good  deal  to  do 
with  it.  It  is  a  lively,  refreshing  climate.  A 
great  majority  of  the  hours  of  sunlight  are 
hours  of  sunshine,  alike  in  the  seven  green 
months  and  the  five  white  ones.  There  is 
nothing  like  sunshine  and  dry  air  for  making 
people  hearty,  healthy,  and  happy.  Those  two 
conditions,  and  the  fact  that  industry  com- 
mands a  sure  and  ample  reward,  have  pro- 
duced in  Canada  a  nation  of  optimists. 

Mr.  Kipling  has  announced  that  the 
Dominion  "  ultimately  must  assume  nothing  less 
than  the  very  headship  of  the  Empire."  Speak- 
ing in  Canada,  Lord  Northcliffe  said  :  '  It  is 
more  than  possible  that,  in  the  perhaps  not 
far  distant  future,  the  force  of  circumstances 
may  cause  the  centre  of  the  British  Empire  to 
come  here."  A  distinguished  literary  Cana- 
dian assured  me  that  the  King  and  the  Imperial 


EDUCATION  263 

Parliament  will  inevitably  some  day  emigrate 
to  Winnipeg. 

Those  are  political  prophecies,  calling  for 
no  comment  from  a  mere  recorder  of  facts. 
But  there  can  be  no  doubt,  I  think,  that  Canada 
promises  to  become,  in  a  few  decades,  the 
most  populous  and  prosperous  part  of  our 
English  Empire. 


THE    END 


Ube  Oreabam  press, 

CNWIN  BROTHERS,  LIMITED, 
WOKINO  AND  LONDON. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  UBRARYFACjUTY 


A     000132470     6