Muskoka memories : sketches from real life

Presented to the
LIBRARY of the

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO

by

ESTATE OF THE LATE

PROFESSOR J.R.

COCKBURN

HATHAWAY'S BAY.

MUSKOKA MEMORIES

Sketches from Real Life

By ANN HATHAWAY

TORONTO

WILLIAM BRIGCS

1904

Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the
year one thousand nine hundred and four, by

WILLIAM BRIGGS,
at the Department of Agriculture.

1048020

DEDICATED

TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED

jfatbet anfc /l&otbcr

WHO WERE AMONGST THE EARLIEST SETTLERS

OF THIS DISTRICT

THE FRUIT OF WHOSE LABORS THEIR
CHILDREN NOW ENJOY

iii

PREFACE.

ONE word, dear reader, before you commence this
book. You will be disappointed if you expect to
find in it stories of thrilling adventures, wonderful
exploits, or hair-breadth escapes ; it contains merely
the record of the every-day life of a hard-working
family. But, as the human race is largely made up
of workers, I hope these pages may interest some of
them. If any of you, like myself, know and love
Muskoka, I hope my little book will afford you
pleasure. If it does this, and also interests some
who have never visited our lakes, it will have served
the end for which it was written.

A. H.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. RETROSPECTION- - - - ... 9

II. FAREWELL TO ENGLAND - - - - - 21

III. OUR SOJOURN IN TORONTO - - - - 33

IV. MUSKOKA THIRTY YEARS AGO - - - 40
V. BET'S BABY - - - - - . . 52

VI. MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSKOKA - -- \r- 66

VII. THE SHANTY AT THE FARM - - *, - 80

VIII. LOVE IN THE WOODS 87

IX. THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE .... 99

X. OUR SUMMER-BOARDERS 114

XI. THE PICNIC TO CLIFF ROCK - - - - 125

XII. THE OLD MAID'S LODGE - - - - - 137

XIII. SETTLERS AND TOURISTS - 143

XIV. TORMENTING TOM - - - - - -157

XV. THE "IMMORTAL WILLIAM" - 169

XVI. Cows AND COW-BELLS 181

XVII. ON CATS! ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS - - 190

XVIII. WINTER IN MUSKOKA 204

XIX. OUR SUPPLY BOATS 218

vii

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

HATHA WAY'S BAY Frontispiece

BET'S BABY - - - 52

LETTO AND TOM - - - 135

OPHELIA AT THE SPRING 160

"TORMENTING TOM," WITH HIS SEVEN ORPHANS - 167
THE "IMMORTAL WILLIAM" IN HIS FIRST PAIR OF

OVERALLS - - ... ... 179

"SPINDLY-TAIL" AND " DUBBY "- - - *• - 200

BEN'S BOY— "THE LITTLE HUNTER" - - - 205

Tiii

MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

CHAPTER I.
RETROSPECTION.

" The Present pales before the Past ;

Who comes with angel wings ?
As in a dream, I stand amidst
Strange yet familiar things.
Enough, so let us go, mine eyes

Are blinded by their tears,
A voice speaks to my soul to-day
Of long forgotten years."

—A. A. Procter.

JANUARY nth, 1903.

FIFTY-FIVE years ago to-day since my dear old
father and mother were married ; fifty-five years
— more than half a century — since the stalwart young
tradesman, Ephraim Hathaway, was married in the
old parish church of St. Mary's, Warwickshire, Eng-
land, to the buxom, rosy-cheeked, black-haired dam-
sel, Susan Crosbie ; and here am I, their eldest-born,

9

10 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

their first Christmas-box — for I was born the Christ-
mas after their marriage — here am I, far away from
the land of my birth, in the wilds of Muskoka, sitting
all alone, pen in hand, gazing sadly at the falling
snow-flakes which are slowly but surely loading the
spreading branches of the pine-trees, till they bend
sorrowfully earthward, and I see beyond them, far as
the eye can reach, the lake, which in summer sparkles
and ripples in the sunlight, now a vast field of ice,
thickly covered with the same fast-falling snow.

The good father and mother, where are they?
Alas ! their bodies are both quietly resting under the
same snowy covering. For long years the talk had
been of their " golden wedding-day " the glad family
gathering we were to have on that great day — parents,
children, grandchildren — but only one short year be-
fore that day dawned the dear mother laid aside all
her earthly toils and cares, and slipped away from the
fond embraces of her loved ones to a fairer land,
with Christ, which is far better. A few more months
and our father joined her there, and we knew for
the first time what orphan meant ; and though it
was late in life to learn the lesson, it came to us
none the easier for that. Keen was the pang, bitter
the knowledge that henceforth we must walk this
world alone — no more wise fatherly counsel, no tender
motherly comfort for us in this life — and though time's
healing hand has gently touched our aching hearts,
the void is still there, and in our hours of trouble and

RETROSPECTION. 11

sadness our spirits yearn for the father and mother
who for a little while have left us behind. Thank
God, only for a little while. But, reader, methinks I
hear you say this is a sad beginning for a book. Ah !
but don't you remember how often tears and laughter
meet in this old world of ours ; so have patience, my-
friend, and I will venture to predict that, if you have
the courage to follow me through the pages of my
story, you shall have smiles as well as tears, jest as
well as earnest, and many a hearty laugh, I hope,
we shall enjoy before we part

And now, why am I going to write this book?
First and foremost of all reasons, to tell you of Mus-
koka. Muskoka ! the land my parents loved, and I
love, too. Muskoka ! which I have chosen for my
home, the place I mean to live in till I die. Mus-
koka ! concerning which I have come to the conclu-
sion (after having travelled in my lifetime north, south,
east and west) that it is the dearest spot on all God's
earth.

No wonder people come from afar to see Muskoka !
No wonder, having once seen it, that they come again
year after year, and never tire of its infinite variety of
beauties. The very air you breathe is as the breath
of life to the weary soul ; it seems fairly to intoxicate
like new wine, and you draw it in (pure, fresh laden
with the breath of the pines) in deep, deep draughts,
for the pure delight of breathing.

Muskoka ! the very name seems a charm. I remem-

12 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

her, some years ago when on a visit to London, Eng-
land, dining at the house of a friend, I chanced to say
in the course of conversation the word Muskoka.
" Oh ! " called out a lady from the other side of the
table, " what a pretty name ; say it again." " Mus-
koka," I repeated, and I heard her after the dinner
was over softly murmuring to herself, " Muskoka."

How much sweeter, then, the name to those who
know and love the place ! Ah ! there is music in the
very sound. But there lies a great gap between the
time when I commence this story and the present
year of our Lord 1903, and as I want to trace the
history of that young couple who plighted their troth
in the old church at Warwick. I must as briefly as
may be acquaint my readers with the most important
facts which filled in the intervening years.

My father was the second son of James Hathaway
and Ann, his wife, who had resided, and their ances-
tors before them, for many a long year at the little
town of Stratford-on-Avon, the home of Shakespeare.
My grandfather was a timber merchant, and his eldest
son joined him in that business, but my father had
been apprenticed to the dry-goods, or drapery, as they
call it there, and after his marriage set up a draper's
shop in the High Street, Stratford. Here I was born,
as I told you before, the Christmas following their
marriage, and was named Ann, after my dear old
grandmother. Here were also born in the order
named, my sisters Bet and Susan, followed by the

RETROSPECTION. 13

first boy, my brother Joe. When I was about six
years old my father was taken very ill, and the doc-
tors who were called in did not appear to be able to
do him much good. For one thing, they could not
agree as to what ailed him, but they all agreed (and
thereby showed their wisdom) that what he needed
was an out-door life, fresh air and exercise. They
declared that shop-keeping did not suit his constitu-
tion, and that if he wished to live out half his days he
had better give it up. Ah, dear me ! what thousands
of people there are in this world who would take a
fresh lease of life by following the simple prescription
of these doctors.

Well, of course, there followed upon this verdict a
lot of family consultation, and after a great deal of
talk it was at last decided that my father should be
made into a farmer. But first he had to learn how to
farm, and it was thought best that he should, in the
first place, take a very small farm and experiment
on that, then afterwards he might go into it more
boldly. Thus it came about that, soon after I had
passed my sixth birthday, we removed from Stratford
into North Wales with all our belongings. The farm
my father had decided upon was near Carnarvon and
close to the seashore ; the house on a hill faced inland,
environed with distant mountains, Snowden with its
white peak plainly visible above the rest. Here we
lived for the next four years, and my father not only
gained a knowledge of farming, but, what was more

14 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

important by far, health and strength for the future.
Here my youngest sister, our pretty little blue-eyed
Winnie, was born, and here, too, I think, was born in
my own heart the intense love I have for Nature in
all her forms. The sea, the mountains, the woods,
the fields, everything around me I revelled in and
enjoyed.

Ah ! the truth of the trite old saying, " God made
the country, but man makes the town." At the end
of the four years for which he had leased the Welsh
farm, my father returned with his family into War-
wickshire and rented a much larger farm, about ten
miles from Stratford, and here we spent the next ten
or eleven years of our lives, bringing me to the mature
age of twenty-one. Here was born my youngest
brother, our little Benjamin, who rejoiced in the
euphonious nick-name of the " Bab " till he was more
than twelve years of age. I must tell you an anec-
dote just here. Not many years ago a gentleman
called to see me in Toronto, a complete stranger, as
I thought, but he introduced himself as the youngest
son of a neighbor of ours in Warwickshire, who had
been a great friend of my father's at the time we
lived there. After some conversation and mutual
enquiries concerning the several members of our
respective families, he burst out with, " and how's
the 'Bab?'"

The old familiar name, which had not been spoken
by any of us for long, long years, brought back a flood

RETROSPECTION. 15

of recollections. " Oh ! " I replied, laughing, " the
' Bab ' is an old married man with lots of ' Babs ' of
his own, away in Muskoka." You may hear of some
of them, my readers, before this story is concluded.

But to return to the original " Bab," our little
"Ben," he was a beauty, but he was also a sadly
spoilt little boy. Father, mother, children, servants,
were all his obedient subjects. He was " king of the
castle " in very truth. A visitor who was staying
with us when the " Bab " was about four years old,
and who was a bit of a wag in his way, astonished
my parents by suddenly asking them at the dinner
table one day why they had not called him Moloch
instead of Benjamin? "And why should we have
done that ? " said mother, looking surprised. " Be-
cause all the children were sacrificed to him," aptly
replied the guest, much to our amusement, though
mother herself did not appear to see much fun in the
joke.

My sister Bet was devoted to the "Bab," and
always constituted herself his special champion and
protectress ; and so, dear old girl, she has remained
until this present day. Though she may in her
inmost heart have occasionally to confess that her
beloved Benjamin is not entirely free from every
human frailty, yet let any one dare to hint such a
thing in her presence, lo! the unhappy individual
is squashed flat as a pancake in a moment ; before you
could say " Jack Robinson," as mother used to say.

16 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Perhaps now would be as good a time as any to give
you a few of the leading characteristics of our family
band ; afterwards you will get better acquainted with
both them and their peculiarities.

To begin with, I have always thought it the great-
est pity in the world that I was born before my sister
Bet, just sixteen months before, to be strictly accurate.
You see, Bet was " born to rule," and rule she did,
by hook or by crook, every man-jack of us. Now, if
she had been born the eldest I should meekly have
submitted to my fate, and have become, in all proba-
bility, a most obedient subject to this queenly " Eliza-
beth " ; and, though meekness is not by any means a
strong trait of the Hathaways, my proud spirit would
have submitted to the yoke without that burning
sense of injustice which the continual brooding over
those sixteen months of seniority caused in my soul.
Anyway, I can only repeat, and all the junior mem-
bers of the family will bear witness to the fact — BET
RULED.

Of course it was for our good, as she will tell you to
this day if the subject is mentioned, and as I grew
older and wiser I quietly gave up the struggle, and
philosophically, or for the sake of peace and quietness,
submitted my will to hers. A remark which our
minister made in his sermon one Sunday morning
greatly helped me to this wise conclusion. He was
speaking of children and of their management. He
said, " If you will take notice, in every family there is

RETROSPECTION. 17

a ' Bismarck.' It may be the eldest or youngest, a
boy or a girl, but you will, find, if you observe care-
fully, there is generally one ruler and the others have
to fall into line sooner or later." Now Bet happened
to be seated next to me in the family pew when this
pointed home-truth was uttered. I gave her a kick
on the near shin with my heel which made her jump,
and she assured me solemnly, as we were walking
home, that she would bear the mark of that kick till
her dying day. There is something else will stick
to her till her dying day, and that is the name
" Bismarck," affectionately shortened by her subjects
to " Bizzy " when very good-humored. This is
enough of Bet for the present.

We will now proceed to Sue and Joe. These
were the two who most resembled my mother ;
they were plump and inherited her beautiful rosy
complexion. Sue has never lost her roses, even
now. She was the pretty one of the family, but
a great tease. She had lovers before she entered
her teens, and nearly tormented them to death.
Joe was a tease, too, full of fun. He was of
a heavier build — strong and hearty. Joe and I always
got on well together as children, and I counted it as
a great compliment when he said to me one day very
seriously, " Nan, if you were not my sister I would
marry you."

Next came our little Winnie— our " Welsh woman,"
as we called her, being born at Carnarvon ; as pretty

18 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

and sweet a maid as you would meet in a day's
march, but with a sharp little tongue of her own, and
ever-ready wit, which finds out the weak points in
everyone's armor, and shoots her small darts with
a very sure aim. I don't think I need refer to the
" Bab " again at present.

I must not forget to tell you what mother said
of us, though, that, without exception, we had the
strongest wills of any children she had ever met
with, and such " gifts o' the gab " as we all possessed
she never did see. Poor mother ! she had something
to endure with us in our young days. As for myself,
the eldest of our family group, I think the less said
the better. You know the story of the ugly duckling,
only the swan has never developed in me, maybe
never will.

As we grew older of course my father's expenses
began to increase, and the revenue from the farm did
not increase in proportion, indeed ; though he gained
health by taking to farming, he lost money. The
rents in England at that time were very high, all the
profits appeared to go into the landlord's pocket.
About this time, too, commenced a period of depres-
sion, bad crops, bad weather, which year after year
seemed to get worse. I expect it was this which
first caused my father, like many another, to turn
his eyes in the direction of the " Golden West, where
land could be had for the asking," and where, to
judge by the pamphlets issued by the emigration

RETROSPECTION. 19

companies, and sent broadcast through the land,
" Everything is lovely, and the goose hangs high."
It was now about the beginning of the seventies, and
the tide of emigration from England was setting
strongly westward. " Going to America " was the
common topic of conversation, and so my father
caught the fever like the rest, and continued losses
on the farm helped to feed its flame, till he made up
his mind to cross the ocean and see for himself what
this famous land was like. He was a very cautious
man, and would not think of moving his family till
he had some idea of where he was moving them to ;
besides my mother was very strongly averse to any
thought of change. She and my father were ap-
proaching middle age, and it is as hard as uprooting
an old tree to move anyone in advanced life. How-
ever, he was so strongly bent on at least seeing
the new land that at last a compromise was effected
between them. He should go first alone, and if after
visiting the country he still thought it advisable to
move, mother would give in and we would all go.

This programme was carried out, and in the month
of August, 1870, father sailed from Liverpool for New
York, intending to visit Canada. He spent about
six weeks going around this country. He visited
Niagara, Toronto, Hamilton, Barrie, and came as far
North as the Georgian Bay, but did not settle defi-
nitely on any spot.

He kept a very interesting diary while he was

20 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

travelling around here, and sent it home to us in
England in weekly instalments. Great was the ex-
citement when these arrived. The precious pages,
after being read and re-read at home, were sent
round to friends in the village, and then made a
wider circuit through the post. I have some of them
in my possession still, one with his impressions of
Toronto, which I, when reading, had little thought
would be my home for so many years. He said he
liked Toronto, it was the most comfortable English-
looking place he had struck yet, but he said it was
very flat, " you could see over the whole city if you
stood on an office stool in the street " ; that no one
could lose their way, for the streets were all straight
and crossed each other in squares, making the city
look like a large patch-work quilt ; but it was bright
and clean looking, and had some fine buildings. He
mentions Osgoode Hall and the University amongst
others. Thus was our far-famed city of Toronto
described to us for the first time.

When my father returned, in the beginning of
October, he had fully decided it would be best for
us to emigrate, so he proceeded forthwith to make
arrangements for leaving the farm the following
spring, and starting life anew in the far-off land of
Canada.

CHAPTER II.
FAREWELL TO ENGLAND.

" ' But alas ! that we should go,'

Sang the farewell voices then,
' From the homesteads warm and low,

By the brook and in the glen ;
But woe for that sweet shade

Of the flowering orchard trees,
Where first our children played

Midst the birds and honey-bees ;
But oh ! the grey church-tower,

And the sound of Sabbath bell,
And the shelterM garden bower,

We have bid them all farewell —
Home, home, and friends, farewell ! ' "

— Mrs. Hemans.

WE sailed from England in the month of March,
1871, on board the steamship Peruvian, of
the Allan Line. We had spent the two previous
days in Liverpool while father was looking after our
household effects and seeing them safely stowed
away on board, for though mother had not been
allowed to bring with her one-half of the things she
wished to, there was a pretty mountainous pile of
baggage all the same. Two or three of our friends
came with us to Liverpool to see us off, and, so far as
2 21

22 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

my recollections go, this day or two in Liverpool was
not at all unpleasant. We girls were delighted with
the shops and could have spent all the time looking
in the windows at so many gay and pretty things.
We had not much money to spend, it is true, and
what we had was expended on such small necessaries
as pins, needles, buttons, tapes, cotton, etc., of which
we laid in a stock sufficient to last us for the rest of
our lives, having an idea that we should never be able
to obtain such commodities in Canada. Sue was
most anxious about the hairpins, for it was the time
chignons were worn, and Sue had just started an
enormous one. She had invested all her small capital
in hairpins, but still was doubtful whether she had
sufficient in case she lived to be very old, so the last
evening begged another half-crown from father and
rushed out madly to buy more. How many times we
have laughed together over the funny ideas we had
about this country. We were nearly as bad as the
Irishman you have read of who, when he first saw
New York from the deck of the vessel on which he
had crossed the Atlantic, cried out, to the great
amusement of the other passengers, "That New
York ! Holy Saints preserve us, and sure I thought
New York was a howling wilderness." I think there
are quite a few folks across the water who are about
as ignorant of what awaits them when they come
here.

The morning we sailed was dull and wet. Doesn't

FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 23

it always rain in Liverpool ? Poor Bet, just before
we got on the tender which was waiting to take us
aboard, stamped her foot on the wharf and said with
a touch of pathos, " My last step on English ground."
Strange to say, she is almost the only one of us who
has never returned for a visit to England. I have
been several times, and father and mother both went
back on a visit, so Bet's speech was quite prophetical.

Our voyage was rough, cold and unpleasant. We
were all seasick and miserable the first few days.
After that we revived somewhat, with the exception
of poor Sue, who is a most miserable sailor. She is
one of those unfortunates whom the very sight and
smell of the sea seem to act upon as an emetic. She
is sick before the vessel starts, and continues so till
she reaches land again. Our dear mother bore up
well, and was the comfort and support of the whole
lot. What should we have done without her ?

We landed at Portland, Maine, and went from
thence by rail to Toronto, passing through Montreal
on our way. It was bitterly cold when we arrived,
late in the evening, in Toronto ; everything was frozen
up hard and fast. Poor mother, tired and worn out
with the journey and the care of all the children, de-
clared she would go no farther. " She wasn't going
to the backwoods," she said, " to be devoured by wild
beasts or savage Indians," for we had very vague
ideas then of these northern wilds. We young ones had
read some of Cooper's novels, and the very name of

24 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Indians made our blood curdle. Why one night,
when the " Bab " in his sleep seized hold of Bet's top-
knot, she roused the whole household with her
shrieks of murder, thinking the Indians were scalping
her. So you can imagine, when our minds were thus
filled with terror of the backwoods, how strongly we
all supported mother in her desire to stay in Toronto,
at least for a while. My father perhaps yielded to our
persuasions more readily than he otherwise would
have done from the fact that he was feeling anything
but well himself; the strain had told upon him, and
he had a touch of his old complaint, so I think was
not sorry to rest for a while.

To find a place to rest in, though, seemed as if it
would prove a considerable difficulty. The first night
we had slept at an hotel near the station, but our
expenses had already been so heavy, and the family
purse was growing so light, that cheaper lodgings
must be found, and economy, strict economy, be the
order of the day. So, after beakfast the first morning,
mother, accompanied by Bet and Sue, leaving me in
charge of the younger ones, started off in search of a
suitable boarding-house. Oh ! what a weary quest it
proved. The doors they knocked at, the steps they
climbed, the streets they traversed with no success.
" Just out from England, six in family" ! — slam went
the doors in their astonished faces.

Here I must make a slight digression in order to
dispel an illusion which we, in common, I think, with

FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 25

all newly arrived emigrants, fondly hugged to our
breasts, namely, that the words "just out from
England," act as a magic charm to open every heart,
throw wide every door, obtain instant employment
and insure highest wages. What a fatal mistake !
No words you could utter would so surely destroy all
your hopes. How many times have I seen, since
living in Toronto, as I have been gazing from my
window into the street, the forlorn looking groups
walking along, dragging babies and bundles, with
"just out from England" stamped upon them as
plainly as if it had been done with a branding-iron, so
that all who run could read. How my heart went
out in sympathy to those homeless wanderers in a
strange land. What advice would I like to have
given them, every one, if I only had the chance?
Just this — " Forget, my dear friends, as soon as you
possibly can, the land of your birth, whether it
be England, Scotland, Ireland or Wales! Don't
'make haste' to do so, but 'hurry up.' 'Hustle'
to rid yourself of your ' Cockney twang/ or your
' country dialect/ whichever it happens to be.
Don't, on applying for work, meekly ask in a hang-
dog kind of a way, * Please, can I speak to the
guv'ner ? ' but step up smartly and say, ' Is the boss
in?' Commence 'right away' to call your dinner
lunch and your tea supper ; don't talk of your waist-
coat and trousers — say vest and pants ; don't say
fortnight, it is an unknown duration of time here,

26 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

just say * two weeks.' When your wife visits the
stores, not shops, tell her to ask for a ' spool of thread/
not a ' reel of cotton.' When she wants calico tell
her to ask for cotton, when she wants print ask for
calico. Don't tell your children, when they are cry-
ing, to ' give over and stop roaring,' but yell at them
to 'shut up and quit that squalling.' Don't try to
comfort them by sending for a ' pen'orth of sweeties,'
but five cents' worth of candies. Don't speak of
* buckets,' say pails, and if they unfortunately * run
out ' say leak. Don't, above all, speak of ' pubs,' or
visit them either. Do your level best to give the
letter H its proper place in words to which it belongs,
don't use it as an advance guard before every vowel.
I might go on with "don'ts" unlimited; but even
attention to these few I have mentioned will be of
service, as you will find out if you are not too wise
in your own conceit to give them a fair trial. If I had
attended to them myself when I came a "green-
horn" to this country I might have been saved
considerable trouble and not a few mortifications ; but,
like some others who have come after me, I was full
of conceit and aired my ignorance on every possible
occasion. Well do I remember, when I took a situa-
tion in a store on Yonge Street, the first mistake
I made. I was left in charge while the owner was
at breakfast. A small boy entered and advancing to
the counter asked for a " copper pencil." " What do
you mean ? " I said, looking at him rather disdainfully,

FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 27

and when he repeated his request, " ' Copper pencils,'
I never heard of such a thing ! You must mean a
lead pencil." " No ! " " Colored pencils, red or blue ? "
I suggested. He shook his small head vigorously.
" Well, I give it up," I said, and told him in a rather
high and lofty manner he had better go home to his
mother and ask her to explain what a " copper pencil "
was. The little chap made for the shop door, and I,
following him to see which way he went, overheard
his remark to another small boy, evidently waiting
for him, "The blooming idiot in here don't know
what a copper pencil is," at the same time showing
the cent in his hand. In a moment it flashed across
me what he meant, and, opening the door, I beckoned
him back and gave him the slate pencil he wanted in
exchange for his copper — feeling pretty small, too,
and thankful in my heart there was no one in the
store at the time but myself.

But we are leaving mother and Bet too long on
those doorsteps, so let us return to them. After two
or three days spent in trudging around in the snow
and sleet, the March winds howling round the bleak
street corners (which it does with a more special
vim in Toronto than anywhere else, I think), mother
succeeded in coaxing a good-natured Irish woman,
named Derrigan — who kept an untidy looking board-
ing house near Yonge Street — to take us in till my
father was better and able to look round and decide
what we should do. She could only let us have two

28 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

bedrooms, so we were packed like sardines in a box
(the eight of us). Still we were thankful to get even
this and wisely determined to make the best of it.
Fortunately we were all young and vigorous, and
the Hathaways are blessed with an inexhaustible
supply of humor. You remember George Macdonald
calls it " the God-given sense of humor," and I quite
agree with him, for what is there helps us so much
when things go wrong and everybody seems at
loggerheads as to be able to see the funny side of it
all and meet our troubles with a laugh instead of a
frown. I believe at this time my father and mother
would have become quite homesick and despondent
had it not been for our lively appreciation of every-
thing going on around us, our unceasing questions,
and the fun we took out of even the unpleasant things.

Oh ! such discussions as we used to have about
what we were each one going to earn towards replen-
ishing the family exchequer. Bet and Sue had a fancy
for millinery. They had always been very successful
in adorning themselves, why shouldn't they adorn
others ? Joe, who was now a strong, good-looking
lad of sixteen, wanted to go into the country to
some farmer and learn more of Canadian ways of
farming. I was fondly hoping to get a situation as
daily governess, as I had received a fairly good
education and a smattering of accomplishments.

Alas for all our talk and plans, nothing but dis-
appointments awaited us.

FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 29

Bet and Sue, after a hard week's work tramping
around the city, returned one afternoon in high glee.
They informed us triumphantly that they were both
engaged on trial, and to go the next morning to a
wholesale millinery place. They came back at dinner
time next day not quite so jubilant, in fact we
remarked amongst ourselves after they had returned
to their work for the afternoon, " they both looked
rather depressed." Shortly after six they once more
arrived home, this time with very sad countenances,
eyes red, noses ditto.

They soon poured the story of their woes into our
sympathizing ears. The forewoman of the trimming
department had given them, in the morning of their
arrival, a dozen cheap straw hats, and one trimmed
as a pattern. They had faithfully and laboriously
copied this, and in their estimation the copies looked
even better than the original; but when the fore-
woman came around on her tour of inspection at the
end of the day, and Bet ventured meekly to ask what
remuneration they might expect per dozen for trim-
ming, she savagely took hold of one of the hats, said
their work was no good, tore off the trimming, stormed
away at them for some time and then ended up by
saying, " You'll have to come two or three months
and then we'll talk about paying." Poor girls! we
did our best to comfort them, and they didn't go
back.

More tramping followed, then another engagement ;

30 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

this time at a factory with sewing-machines run by
steam power. Here they might have stayed awhile
had not an accident happened to one of the young
girls employed there. She had a beautiful head of
hair, which she wore hanging over her shoulders, and,
by some terrible mischance, it got caught in the
machinery, winding up until her scalp was nearly
torn off. The effect of this accident was to make the
other girls very nervous, and a few days after, some
small article dropping between the revolving wheels
caused them to make a loud rattling noise. The girls
at work, startled by this, and afraid of another acci-
dent, all made a wild rush for the narrow stairway.
Crazed with fear as they were, their wild stampede
would no doubt have ended disastrously for many of
them, had it not been for the presence of mind of the
foreman, who rushed in front of the opening to the
stairway and caught hold of the two foremost girls,
one of whom was my sister Sue, telling them to go
back to their work, and explaining the reason of the
noise. My sister always says this man saved her
life, for really she meant to throw herself down the
stairs, and the others would have surely followed her.
This scare was enough for my tender-hearted mother,
so thus ended the factory episode.

Meantime, I had not been idle ; I had spent my
last cent in advertising for the governess situation,
and most of my time in searching the papers and
answering any advertisements I thought suitable. No

FAREWELL TO ENGLAND. 31

one seemed to want a daily governess in Toronto.
There were lots of servants wanted, though, just as
there are now ; but don't forget, I was " just out
from England " and full of English ideas, or I might
easily have got a situation as a nurse, and been better
off, and better paid, than as a governess. However,
just at this time when money was getting scarce
and things looking rather black for us, " Providence
opened a door," as dear mother said, and we made a
fresh start in another direction.

I told you we were boarding at the house of a Mrs.
Derrigan, but there was also a Mr. Derrigan, and
that's where the trouble came in. He was fonder of
whiskey than either water or tea, and in consequence
matrimonial squabbles were not infrequent, and what
you might call lively at times.

Mrs. Derrigan, who often confided her troubles to
mother, told her one day that at last she had made
up her mind to give up housekeeping. She had got
sick and tired of these continued outbreaks on Mr.
Derrigan's part, and would return to her friends
until he returned to his senses. Now, when my
mother heard this she conceived the plan, and brave-
ly made up her mind to execute it, namely, to rent
the house herself when Mrs. Derrigan vacated it, and
start a boarding-house on her own account. She
reasoned it out in this way : If father did go to
Muskoka, and take up a government grant of land,
it would be some time before he had a clearing made

32 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

and a house put up on it, and in the meantime what
were we to live on ? Whereas, if she started a
boarding-house in Toronto, we girls could do the
housework, and she could keep us at home under her
wing, and yet we should be earning a living. She
had seen enough during the few weeks we had
boarded with Mrs. Derrigan to convince her that,
with proper management, money might be made in a
boarding-house ; and if we were provided for in this
way it would leave my father at liberty to take up
the land, and start preparing our future home.

Thus it was settled, and it proved to be a wise move
on mother's part ; for though we had our ups and
downs, on the whole the venture turned out well — as
you will hear.

I think from my present standpoint I can appre-
ciate more than I was able to do in the past the
fortitude and courage displayed at this time by my
dear mother. She perforce of circumstances was
compelled to take the helm in her own hands, and it
was her perseverance and industry that brought our
barque safely thro' those troubled seas of difficulty
and danger.

CHAPTER III.
OUR SOJOURN IN TORONTO.

11 And though thou art busiest with small things,

Though menial thy labor may be,
Do thy utmost in that, and in all things

Thou still shall be noble and free.
Be to every man just, and to woman

Be gentle, and tender and true ;
For thine own do thy best, but for no man
Do less than a brother should do."

—Jean Ingelow.

OH ! what a cleaning, scrubbing, and general
grubbing out of holes and corners we had after
the departure of Mrs. Derrigan and all her possessions.
Did I say all her possessions ? Well, that's not so, for
she left enough old rubbish to fill twenty dust-bins ; we
girls thought we would never finish carrying out the old
shoes, old clothes, bushels of old papers, and dozens
of empty bottles, she left behind her. Then we
started cleaning ; father did the painting, mother
unpacked her stores and brought out curtains and
covers, cushions and tablecloths. We madewashstands
and dressing tables out of the old packing-cases
covered with muslin. We tried to spread out our
belongings to their farthest extent, yet, do our utmost,
we had to buy some furniture before we could get

33

34 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

boarders, and where was the money to come from, for
we had reached the bottom of our purse.

Mother's resources were not exhausted yet, though.
She had made the acquaintance, through buying some
small articles at his store, of a furniture dealer on
Queen Street West. He was an Englishman, but had
been in Canada many years and got on well. To
this man mother resolved to go and, laying the case
before him, ask if he would supply the needed furni-
ture and accept payment for it in monthly instalments.
There was no Adams Furnishing Company in those
days and it was very hard for strangers to obtain
credit, but I feel sure mother's honest face made such
an impression on the man that he quite willingly
acceded to her request, and once more the Hathaway
family were on their legs, and started on a fresh race
for fortune. We soon got our first boarders. Most of
those we did get stayed, and in the fall we had a party
of young men students come, five of them, who
remained with us all winter, part of them returning
the next year.

Amongst one of our first boarders was a fine intelli-
gent looking young Englishman, in whom my father
was particularly interested, for he had just come
from Muskoka. His name was John Roberts. He
had come out from England two years previous with
some friends of his, a young couple named Barton,
who had taken up land on the shores of Lake Joseph
and built a decent log house there. Unfortunately

OUR SOJOURN IN TORONTO. 35

Mr. Barton had the seeds of consumption strongly
rooted in his constitution before leaving England, and
though he had picked up for awhile in the pure air
and pine woods of Muskoka, it was too late to do more
than prolong his life, and now he had become so sick
that, bringing his young wife and child with him, he
had come to Toronto to die. They had engaged
rooms and were now living not many doors from
us, and, naturally, we all soon became very much
interested in them and their sad story.

Mr. Roberts was often with his sick friend, and
took my father to see him, and, to make a long
story short, in the course of a few weeks an arrange-
ment was made between my father and Mr. Barton
by which his house and land on Lake Joseph
were rented to my father for three years, the agree-
ment being that so many more acres — I think it was
five — should be added to the clearing every year.
My father thought by taking up some of the adjacent
lots for himself he would be enabled to make a small
clearing and build a shanty on his own land before the
expiration of the three years.

My father did not intend going to Muskoka till
the following spring, so we had the winter altogether
in our new home with the exception of my brother
Joe, who had gone to a farmer's in the country.

Shortly before Christmas I was fortunate enough to
obtain a good situation in a store on Yonge street,
and here I remained for many years, and was able to

36 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

be of some little help to my dear father and mother
in several ways. I was always at home on Sundays,
and very happy times we had. The memory of
those Sunday evenings in the old boarding-house will
never pass away. As for mother's boarders, we can
truly say we were brought into close contact with
"all sorts and conditions of men," bad, good and
indifferent. It is rather hard on our own sex to say
that after a little experience mother preferred gentle-
men to ladies as boarders. I believe, too, from what
I have heard since, that this preference is very wide-
spread ; so, ladies, you must look out for your laurels ;
it will never do to let men get ahead of us in that
style.

We found out something else, too, by experience,
and that was the fact that far worse than people
" just out from England " are those who are always
" expecting money from England." I can only warn
the unwary, if there are any of this class round town
nowadays, " of such beware, they are fooling thee."

My sisters being young, lively, and good-looking,
it naturally followed that they soon had their ad-
mirers amongst the young men, and there was lots of
fun. Sue, who was always reckoned the beauty of
the family, was also the greatest flirt, and the way
she pulled the strings to make those manly puppets
dance was a caution. She made good use of them,
too. She had her wits about her. Their fetching
and carrying powers were made to lighten her share

OUR SOJOURN IN TORONTO. 37

of the domestic work in more ways than one. I
was considerably amused at the way they ran around
for her — up and down stairs, with coal-scuttles, pails
of water, armfuls of wood, tending their own stoves,
riddling their own cinders ; I believe in one or two
badly-gone cases 4t even went as far as making their
own beds, all this in the hope of winning one smile or
word of thanks from the fair Sue. They brought her
flowers in the summer time, too; they took her
skating and sleigh-riding in the winter ; they fairly
fought amongst themselves for her favours, like the
lion and the unicorn fighting for the crown, but so far
the motto of the lovely Sue had been, " A fair field
for all and favors to none."

It was otherwise with Bet, and from the appearance
of things her heart was in great danger of passing
out of her own possession into that of a young
Englishman who had boarded with us all winter.
He was alone in Canada, and I think it is when in
distant countries we meet one of our own land the
tie of nationality seems the strongest, and our hearts
go out in good-fellowship towards our fellow exiles.

It struck us as very remarkable, when we first
arrived here, how the different societies were formed
by the different countrymen — " Sons of England,"
" Orangemen," " St. George's Society," no end of them.
This is all very well, but I think where the newly-
arrived in this country make their mistake is in so
continually bragging up their own land and disparag-

3

38 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

ing Canada. Have they not come here (generally
speaking) because they could not succeed at home,
and were in hopes by coming they would better their
condition, which they nearly always do? Why, then,
should they so disgust the " Canucks " with their con-
tinual growling and grunting about this "blawsted
country " and all it contains.

I think it is greatly owing to this grumbling spirit
on their part that the feeling I was speaking of pre-
viously against new arrivals has arisen.

" They do blow so," I have heard Canadians say,
"and are so dead struck on themselves and their
own way of doing things that we can make nothing
of them."

Well, I don't want you to suppose that Bet's young
man was of this stamp. He seemed made up of
nothing but good temper and jollity. No cloud ever
seemed to overshadow his sun. He was always
bright and happy. He was earning a good livelihood,
and the affair between him and Bet looked as if it
might end seriously. As for my dear mother (I must
say a few words of my mother again here), nothing, I
suppose, pleased her so much as to see her daughters
appreciated. We were all swans to her, dear soul,
though to others we may only have appeared the
commonest of ducklings. How true the saying that
a mother lives her own life over again in that of her
daughters, and takes more pleasure in seeing their
happiness than ever she did in her own.

OUR SOJOURN IN TORONTO. 39

But spring was coming. My father was in better
health and spirits with the budding of the leaves.
His longing to be up and doing returned in full force.
We had come through the first winter in Canada and
conquered many of the hardships which are insepar-
able from the lot of the stranger of straitened means
on first arriving in this land. But now father was
looking forward, with renewed health and spirits, to
the time when he should possess a home and farm of
his own. Little Ben, now twelve years old, was wild to
go with him, and mother at last consented. So pre-
parations were made and in the month of May they
started for the north. Muskoka, at last, say my
readers ; yes, after this long preamble and explana-
tion, Muskoka at last.

CHAPTER IV.
MUSKOKA THIRTY YEARS AGO.

" We will give the names of our fearless race
To each bright river whose course we trace ;
And will leave our mem'ry with mounts and floods,
And the path of our daring in boundless woods ;
And our works unto many a lake's green shore,
Where the Indians' graves lay alone before."

— Mrs. Hemans.

IT is hardly possible to believe that only thirty-five
years ago this part of Muskoka was almost an
unknown country. I have just been reading a
little pamphlet published a few months ago by Mr.
A. P. Cock burn, who may rightly be called the father
of the Muskoka Navigation Company. In it he
says that in 1865 none of this region had even been
surveyed by the Government.

The first work of any importance done here was
the construction of the locks at Port Carling, which
connected Muskoka Lake with Rosseau. This was
followed by the canal being cut and bridged at Port
Sandfield, connecting Lake Joseph with Rosseau,
thus completing the direct route from Gravenhurst to
Port Cockburn. The first boat on Lake Muskoka
was the Wenonah, launched at Gravenhurst in June of

40

MUSKOKA THIRTY YEARS AGO. 41

1866. The old Nipissing followed in 1871 — this is
the boat which was burnt in 1885.

At the time my father started for Muskoka, May
1873, tne Northern Railway ran no farther than
Washago. Thence our travellers had to go by stage
to Gravenhurst, a long drive and over very rough
roads, so that they were thankful to see Lake Mus-
koka and the welcome steamboat awaiting them.
They came on this as far as Port Carling, on the
Indian River, and from here they had to trust to
their own devices for further progress. Mr. Roberts
had, however, given them some pointers before leav-
ing Toronto, and as there were a few English settlers
already in this neighbourhood, they were fortunate
enough to obtain accommodation for the night, and
a rowboat in the morning with which to proceed
to their destination ; they also received numberless
instructions as to the route. "Dale End" was the
name of Mr. Barton's place ; it might have been the
"world's end" from the distance it seemed to the
occupants of the boat before they reached it. They
had been directed to go up the Joseph River into
Lake Joseph, the distance being considerably shorter,
but as they rounded point after point, passed island
after island, the course became almost bewildering,
and they were nearly giving themselves up for lost.
It was a lovely day, Nature just bursting forth in all
her spring beauty — the water sparkling in the sun-
shine, the woods with the vivid tints of the fresh

42 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

young leaves contrasting with the sombre hues of the
hemlocks and pines. The Joseph River struck them
as being particularly beautiful ; indeed, I think many
of my readers who are familiar with these lakes will
bear me out in saying that on a calm summer even-
ing the reflections on this river are quite equal to
those on the far-famed Shadow River at Rosseau.

My father was delighted with the scenery, and
then and there fell "head over heels," as you may
say, in love with Muskoka. This love never changed
through all the labor, care and troubles of the suc-
ceeding years, it only grew stronger as long as his
life lasted. They found near the passage from the
river into Lake Joseph a very narrow channel ; only
by pushing on the rocks with their hands could
they get the boat through at all. These rocks have
since been blasted out and the passage made more
navigable.

It was late in the afternoon when our travellers
arrived at their destination. The first glimpse of
" Dale End " pleased them, for it was a better house
than some they had seen at Port Carling ; indeed at
that time it had the reputation of being quite a fine
house. It possessed a bedroom, divided from the
living room, and also a big loft overhead, to which
you climbed by a ladder. Then there was a shed —
one could hardly dignify it by the name of barn — a
good-sized clearing, and an attempt at a garden.

On entering the house they found that it contained

MUSKOKA THIRTY YEARS AGO. 43

a rusty cooking-stove, a rough table or two, and some
chairs ; in the other room, a home-made bedstead
and mattress. These, with a few kitchen utensils,
completed the furniture.

The house stood not many yards from the lake, so
they soon hauled up their little stock of provisions,
bedding, and sundries from the boat and proceeded
to make themselves at home. They lit a fire and
made some tea, after which refreshment they went
outside again to view their surroundings. So far as
my father could judge, the place fully realized his
expectations, so, after exploring in various directions
until night came on, they returned to the house, made
up their bed, and retired to rest in quite a happy
frame of mind.

Next morning they were up bright and early,
and ready to start work, for father was anxious
to get some seeds in the ground as soon as pos-
sible. Things did not go so badly with them at
first ; it was toward the end of the month, and after
there had been a few hot days, their troubles began,
for the mosquitoes arrived in force. Oh ! the mos-
quitoes in those days ! We think them bad at certain
times of the year now, but if we listen to the stories
of some of the old settlers we shall soon discover
they were a hundred times worse then. Of course,
my father and poor little Ben were new arrivals, too,
and in that fact lies the road to the special favor
and attentions of these bloodthirsty hordes.

44 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

They dote on fresh blood. They attack every
stranger with a most lively zest, and " forsaking all
others, cling only unto him " with a most exasperating
tenacity. In vain did father and Ben make use of
every known remedy. They nearly blinded them-
selves with "smudges." They anointed themselves
all over with pork fat and carbolic, till between the
smoke and the grease they looked like nothing else
so much as a couple of " Yarmouth bloaters." They
tried sleeping in the loft, then out on the lake in the
boat, then under the boat on the shore, all to no pur-
pose. The pesky things continued to draw their life
blood at a most alarming rate ; even when eating
their meals the smudge pot had to be smoking under
the table, or the enemy would have been so aggres-
sive they would never have been able to eat.

One morning, early, my father had to row to Port
Carling, which was the nearest post office. He had
written his letters the evening before, and as soon as
breakfast was over he made a start. An hour or two
later, Benny, who was at work in the field, saw father
madly rushing across the clearing to the house, a
cloud of mosquitoes in his wake. Ben, quite alarmed,
ran to see what had happened. He found poor Dad,
quite exhausted, wiping the perspiration from his
face, which was covered with inflamed knobs as big
as marbles, and gave him a somewhat comical ap-
pearance. " My eyes, sk ! " he broke out (this is an
old English expression, and a favorite expletive of

MUSKOKA THIRTY YEARS AGO. 45

my father's when at all excited), " I've had a fearful
fight ! The mosquitoes wouldn't let me go to the
post. I did my best, and got as far as the river, but
there they met me in swarms, and, though I made a
dead stand at first, laid down my oars and fairly
fought them, it was no good ; the minute I took hold
of the oars again they made another set on me, and
at last I had to give in and come back as soon as
I could. Never saw anything like it. They followed
me all the way home ! " I think this adventure was
the climax. Perhaps this victory satisfied them for
awhile ; anyway, to the great relief of father and Ben,
a strong breeze sprang up, the weather got cooler,
and the mosquitoes took a rest. t

Now a word or two about the fare which these
pioneers enjoyed. There was certainly not much
variety about it. They had some salt pork, and
father baked bread ; then they had all the fish they
could catch, and soon became quite expert fishermen.
This was the evening amusement for them both.
And you all know the taste of Muskoka bass ; " it
can't be beat." The bnly difficulty was the bait. It
was much easier in those days to catch the fish than to
catch the worm. Every worm meant a fish, so they
were valuable and, like other valuables, extremely
scarce ; but there were minnows to be had, and these
served their purpose, or sometimes they tried a strip
of fat pork. Then, several times during the summer,
we sent up a box from Toronto stuffed full of gro-

46 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

ceries and provisions of various kinds. We found we
had to be careful what we put in the box, though, for
there was no " Muskoka Express " in those days to
bring you fruit gathered in Toronto in the morning
and other dainties in time for your six o'clock tea.
No ! the box was often a week on its way, and I have
a letter by me now from my father, written about
this time, in which he says, "The box arrived on
Monday, but it had been so long on the way that the
meat had gone bad, and all the other things spoilt in
consequence. Ben almost cried over the big plum
cake, it smelled so bad. He is baking it anew in the
sun to see if it will sweeten it. We have spread out
the tea, too, and hope we may be able to use it."

We felt as sorry as they did when we got this letter,
for we knew what a disappointment it would be to
them, poor things, living on such hard fare, but it
made us more careful for the future.

My father worked hard during this summer. At
times he hired one of the settlers for a few days to
help him, and before he came down to Toronto in the
fall he made arrangements to have the five acres
chopped, ready for clearing up in the spring. He
had also decided on certain lots, not far distant,
which he meant to apply for to the government grant
agency, when he returned to Toronto. He was very
anxious mother should pay him a visit and see the
spot he had chosen, but this pleasure had to be
deferred until the following spring. He returned to

MUSKOKA THIRTY YEARS AGO. 47

Toronto about the end of September with Ben, who
had grown so tall and looked so well mother could
do nothing the first evening but feast her eyes on his
dear face. My father, too, was looking first-rate.
We all were delighted to have them back, and I think
the tongues of the Hathaways never wagged faster
than they did that night. How interested we all
were in everything that had befallen them. We could
not ask enough questions about this lovely Muskoka,
and all looked forward with longing eyes to the day
when we should see it for ourselves.

We had also many things of interest to tell father.
One very important piece of information was whisp-
ered blushingly into his ear that first night — " Bet
was engaged." Her sweetheart (the young English-
man I told you of) was very anxious, too, that the
wedding should be soon. He wanted to have it at
Christmas. We girls, of course, were very much
interested, as this would be the first marriage in the
family. We all felt it was the right thing that
Bet's should be first ; " wasn't she always first in
everything ? " And so, with my father's and mother's
consent, Christmas Eve was fixed upon as the happy
day, and preparations began in earnest.

We made all the modest trousseau ourselves except
the wedding dress ; we were rather scared of tackling
that, so entrusted it to a dressmaker. We all had a
hand, I think, in concocting the wedding cake. I
know I did the decorative part, and very handsome

48 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

we all thought it looked when finished. Sue and
Winnie were the bridesmaids. I think we fixed upon
Christmas Eve for the wedding because all the
students who were boarding with us would be gone,
and also Mr. Baylis would have some holidays and
be able to take Bet away for a few days. The wed-
ding was quiet, but pretty, and took place in the
parlor, which at that time seemed very strange to
our English ideas. The only contretemps occurred
towards the end of the ceremony.

Winnie, it appears, had been teasing the bridegroom
for some days beforehand by boasting of her deter-
mination to secure the first kiss from the bride. He
was equally as determined that prize should be
his own, so they were both watching for the first
chance, and, being a little too eager, when the clergy-
man made a slight pause in the service, thinking
he had concluded, they fell simultaneously upon the
bride's neck. We never knew which was first, both
positively claiming the victory, but the minister put
an end to the dispute by saying with a very grave
face, "Pardon me, my friends, but if you will kindly
allow me to complete the ceremony first you can
then perform the kissing."

We were slightly abashed, and Winnie was after-
wards called out of the room by mother and told
that her "conduct was simply disgraceful"; but
scoldings had no more effect on Miss Winnie than
water on a duck's back. After the wedding breakfast

MUSKOKA THIRTY YEARS AGO. 49

rather supper — the happy pair took their depart-
ure, first to Hamilton and then Niagara, but they were
to return before January nth, as that would be our
mother's and father's silver wedding day and we were
to have a party.

The students were back again, and the bride ap-
peared in her wedding-dress. We demolished the
rest of the wedding cake and drank to the health of
the " two bridal couples," as we persisted in calling
them, everybody assuring dear mother she looked
nearly as young as her daughter. We finished off
with " Sir Roger de Coverly " in grand style. And
so ended our wedding festivities, and we returned to
the prose of everyday life. Bet's new home was not
far away, and we went often to see her, and she came
to our assistance when there was any extra work on
hand.

I forget whether I told you Ben started to go to
school again in the fall, and was working hard to
make an extra good showing in the spring, so that
there might be no excuse to prevent him returning to
Muskoka with father. However, as soon as naviga-
tion opened father went alone, and Ben was comforted
by the promise of being mother's escort a month
later, when she was to pay her first visit to her future
home. Bet offered to come and stay with us while
mother was away, and we were by no means dull, I
can assure you.

We did one daring deed during her absence, Miss

50 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Winnie being the prime instigator. Mother had an
occasional boarder, an actor, who had given her a lot of
trouble, for she could never get any money from him
and he would return time after time, whenever he was
acting in Toronto, and, with the greatest assurance in
the world, bamboozle my good-natured mother in a kind
of free and easy style into once more taking him in.
He always contrived to get the best of everything
going and was a natural dead-beat.

Well, it happened one day during mother's absence
the boarders had finished dinner, and we girls were
just sitting down to finish what they had left, when
in stalked this Mr. Orlando Hawkins, with two fellow
actors, and, proceeding straight upstairs to the room
which he generally occupied, sent word down by one
of the other boarders ordering "dinner at once for
himself and two friends," Now this seemed carry-
ing things in rather too high-handed a way, and
raised our ire, for he already owed us over fifty dollars,
which we felt sure we should never get ; so we held a
hurried consultation and came to the decision that now
was the time to do the deed — we had the reins of
government in our own hands, and we would give
this gentleman his walking ticket. We sent Bet
upstairs as spokeswoman, she being the most valiant,
and she scored a victory after a short but severe com-
bat.

Winnie and I, peeping from the lower windows, saw
to our delight the trio departing, bag and baggage, in

MUSKOKA THIRTY YEARS AGO. 51

high dudgeon, shaking the very dust from their feet
with indignation.

" Bless you, Bet ! forever bless you ! " cried Winnie,
throwing her arms around Bet's neck, as she came
downstairs, " You have done a brave deed this day,
have routed the enemy from his stronghold, and it
shall be recorded in future history to your worthy
praise." Well, here's the record, anyway, so her
words have come true.

Before I close this chapter I must tell you that
mother returned from her visit to Muskoka more than
delighted with all she had seen. She preferred the
position of father's land to that of Dale End ; it lay
surrounding a beautiful bay, gently sloping to the
edge of the lake. She never tired of describing it to
us, our home of the future, " Hathaway's Bay."

CHAPTER V.
BETS BABY.

Oh ! what is happiness when fear

Starts like a pale unbidden ghost,
That steals across the banquet hall

And spills the draught we long for most ?

For when I look at her it comes —
The fear that she may leave us soon ;

So perfect in the morning light,
How can the blossom last till noon ?

The soft and shining baby hair

Seems but a nimbus round the brow ;

The sweet amazement of the eye
Asks 4 what they do in heaven now.'

I marvel what they do there, too,

Without her in that far still land ;
I tremble lest I turn and see

Great angels in the sunbeam stand.

Great angels, whose departing wings

Shall spread a shadow in the air,
Since having earth so bright, I fear

Heaven be not heaven without her there.

I THINK the arrival of the first grandchild is one
of the most important and exciting events in the
everyday life of the world, especially when (as in
our case) the young mother is one of a large family

52

BET'S BABY.

BET'S BABY. 53

of brothers and sisters, and the grandparents them-
selves still only in ripe middle age.

See what a host of new relationships are formed by
the advent of that tiny morsel of humanity : "Father,"
" mother," dearest of all earthly names, " grandpa,"
"grandma"; strange do these titles sound when
uttered for the first time. Then the tribe of young
uncles and aunts. Fancy our little Ben an uncle !
When he realized his new dignity the fond name of
" the Bab " dropped from him forever more, like the
mantle of Elijah the prophet. There was a "new
baby " now. She arrived early one Sunday morning,
and you know the old rhyme :

" The child that's born on the Sabbath day
Is lucky, and bonny, and wise, and gay."

Late on the Saturday night, just as mother and I
were going to bed, tired out after a hard day's work,
Bet's husband violently rang the door-bell, and in a
state of great excitement demanded our immediate
presence at his home. His impatience would not let
him stay while we hurriedly made ready, but he
departed in hot haste, leaving us to follow. We
found when we reached there the house all astir,
doctor and nurse already in attendance.

We none of us slept that night, and, as I told you,
in the early morning we heard the first faint wail of
our little " Blossom." She was a very fragile blos-
som, though, and only the greatest care and most
4

54 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

loving watchfulness in those first days availed to keep
her with us. But love can work wonders, and our
little maid has grown to tall and lovely womanhood,
the joy of all our hearts.

She was named after me, for this had been a com-
pact between Bet and I since our childish days ; her
first daughter was to be Nancy, and mine was to be
Bet. Well, she fulfilled her half of the bargain, any-
way, and my small namesake, at the mature age of
three weeks, took her first outing in my arms. Bet
and her husband were to come to our house to tea,
bringing the baby, so I went over early to fetch them
— really, that I might have the supreme pleasure of
carrying my small niece. Bet wrapped her up, before
delivering her to me, in so many garments — cloaks,
veils, shawls, etc. — that I was in mortal dread that she
would suffocate before we reached our destination;
and every few steps I had to stop and, resting my
knee against a telegraph pole, open the bundle
sufficiently to assure myself that the small creature
who formed the kernel was still living and breathing.
However, she arrived all right at her journey's end,
and was safely transferred to her grandmother's arms.

Bet told us the night after the nurse departed, when
she and her husband were left in sole charge of the
baby, they had a terribly anxious time ; not that there
was anything wrong with the child, but they both,
being young and ignorant of the ways and manners
of babies, sat up all night watching her and worked

BET'S BABY. 55

themselves up into such a state of nervous anxiety
that they both shed tears together. In the first place,
they had no idea that the respiration of an infant was
so much quicker than their own, and they arrived at
the conclusion that it was a symptom of high fever.
Then, every time the child screwed up her little
mouth, or smiled, they imagined convulsions coming
on. You know there is a romantic old legend that
says, " When a babe smiles in its sleep it is an angel
whispering sweet things in its ear." But all the old
nurses scorn this story and say, " It's the wind, just
wind." But of this Bet had no knowledge, and in
her case "ignorance was not bliss." How mother
laughed at them ! I can fancy I hear the echo of that
merry laugh now. But we did have a real scare the
next day, and that I will tell you about.

I heard when I went home at noon to dinner that
the baby was not very well, and so, as soon as I could
get away from the store in the evening, I hurried over
to Bet's. When I opened her bedroom door I saw
mother in a low rocking-chair at the foot of the bed,
with the baby in her arms, and Bet kneeling before
her, lamp in hand, anxiously scanning the tiny
features. On catching sight of me mother burst forth
in a loud voice, " Now, you've done it between you ;
you've killed the child ! " I stood aghast and horror-
stricken for a moment ; then, gazing at Bet's scared
face, I knew what she meant. The day before at the
tea we had the first cucumber of the season, nicely

56 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

sliced, with pepper and vinegar, eked out with onions,
and sending forth a most inviting smell. Mother
strictly ordered Bet not to think of tasting this
dainty under the most severe penalties. But Bet
took the opportunity, while mother went out to
replenish the teapot, of abstracting a portion of the
forbidden dainty, and hastily swallowing it, at the
same time slyly winking at me to keep mum. When
the baby was taken sick next day, Bet, alarmed,
confessed her crime to mother, and, oh my ! what a
dressing down she got — both of us, in fact ; Bet as
principal transgressor, I as accessory to the fact. But
I am thankful to say we were spared further punish-
ment and remorse, for after we had suffered two or
three hours of anxiety, and after the administration
of several minute doses of catnip, the baby recovered
and we breathed freely once more.

When Baby Nan was two months old she was still
so delicate that the doctor advised my brother-in-law
to send mother and child to Muskoka for the rest of
the summer. So Bet went off to father at Dale End,
carrying her treasure with her. Winnie went with hen
too, for she was hardly able to take the journey alone
with the baby, and though Winnie could only remain
a week or two, she was very anxious to take her first
peep at this lovely Muskoka. They had by no means
a pleasant journey, for when they reached Severn
Bridge, and had mounted the stage, they found a
long bridge on the way, which they had to cross, had

BET'S BABY. 57

been burnt by bush fires, so all the passengers had to
alight and walk two miles while the stage went some
round-about way through the bush and rejoined them
farther on. Bet said they never could have carried the
baby over the burnt bridge, they were so nervous,
had not some kind man, a fellow-passenger, taken her
from them, and, going ahead, with encouraging words
and kindly aid, landed them all safely on the other
side. The roads of those days must have been terribly
rough, for Winnie told us a most laughable story
which happened on her return journey, a week or two
later.

A man boarded the stage at Gravenhurst car-
rying, very carefully, a large stone jar, holding two or
three gallons, the top tied over with paper. He
landed it with some difficulty on to the floor of the
stage, and then sat down, thinking he could hold it in
an upright position with his feet. Vain hope. As
soon as the horses started and the rude vehicle began
to rock wildly in every direction, a steady stream of
dark crimson syrup stole from the jar and spread itself
insidiously around. The owner of the jar began to
look rather uncomfortable, and the lady sitting next
him, feeling something sticky round her feet, raised
her skirts, and was amazed to find them dyed a rich
claret color. At the same moment a terrific lurch sent
the jar wildly careering to the other side of the stage,
the soaked paper cover gave way, and a fat baby calmly
asleep on its mother's knee was suddenly baptized

58 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

with two or three quarts of luscious huckleberry jam,
full in its face. The commotion that followed, the
gasping, half-strangled cries of the child, the indigna-
tion of the mother, and the stifled but almost uncon-
trollable mirth of the other passengers, drew the
attention of the driver, who dismounted and came to
the back of the vehicle to find out the cause of the
confusion.

Winnie said, though every passenger, more or less
was what you might call " jammy," and she herself
was laughing till the tears rolled down her cheeks, she
could not help feeling sorry for the poor unfortunate
owner of the jar. The driver, when he saw the con-
dition of things, commanded the man to hand over
his precious jam to be emptied out on the roadside.
In vain did the poor fellow try to avert this sacrifice
by telling how he had toiled in the hot sun gathering
the berries, the difficulties he had overcome in order
to obtain the necessary sugar, the distance he had
carried the jar that morning through the bush, the
disappointment awaiting the children in Toronto,
whose little mouths were even now watering in anti-
cipation of the expected treat — his eloquence was all
wasted on the hard-hearted driver. The fate of the
jar was sealed, it was carried forth to destruction.
What a libation ! Every neck was stretched forth to
see the sacrifice ; even the much aggrieved baby
stopped his screaming, and opened his eyes to take a
peep, while his little iongue, stretched to its farthest

BET'S BABY. 59

extent, was licking in the sweetness still adherent to
mouth and nose.

" It took us some time before we all settled down in
peace and quietness again," said Winnie, " and even
then there were occasional outbursts of merriment
from the more juvenile passengers." The poor
"huckleberry man," though, wore an air of the
deepest dejection, even until Toronto was reached.
But this is "episodin'," as Samantha Allen would
say, so we will return to Bet and her baby.

They stayed at Dale End till September, and by
this time little Miss Nancy had got so plump, and
had gained such a healthy color with being out
of doors all day in the fresh air of Muskoka, that
when I went to the station to meet them, the night
of their return to Toronto, I could not believe it was
the same baby. Honestly, I suspected Bet of playing
a trick on me by exchanging babies for awhile with
some other passenger on the train. Our little delicate
Blossom developed into that pudgy creature, with a face
as broad as it was long, and hardly able to see out of
her eyes for fatness. I was fairly amazed. " What
is there Muskoka cannot do ! " I said, and often since
have I found occasion to repeat the exclamation.

Well, the baby continued to grow and flourish all
through the following winter and spring ; by the time
she was a year old she was one of the sweetest chil-
dren you ever looked upon — her large violet eyes,
golden curls, and gentle expression, made her quite a

60 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

picture, and people would turn round in the street
and gaze at her with admiring looks.

She was very quiet — almost too good, for you know
there is an old nurse's superstition about very good
babies, "too good to live." The old doctor who
attended Bet when she was born was profoundly
astonished that she survived at all, he never thought
she would ; he said it was nothing short of a miracle,
and when he met any of us on the street would ask,
" How is that miraculous baby ? "

Her troubles were to come, though ; the second
summer of her life proved to be a very trying one.
The weather was hot and sultry, the city fairly stifling ;
the child seemed to wilt like a faded flower, and again
her mother was ordered to take her off to Muskoka.
This time, indeed, it was touch and go with our dar-
ling. I don't know whether she had been kept too
long in the hot city, or whether, as people say here,
the second summer is the most trying one of a child's
life, it is certain that she became very ill after her
arrival at Dale End, and for a few days her life hung
by a thread.

Winnie again accompanied Bet, and I know that we
in Toronto were terribly anxious, and it was so hard to
get news. However, one morning — it was Saturday,
I never forget the day — I received a letter from father
saying the child was dying and Bet's husband had
better go up at once. You can imagine how we felt ;
and the worst of it was that he could not start on his,

BET'S BABY. 61

journey till Monday morning ; there was only one
through train then, and Sunday intervened. What
might not have happened before he could get there ?
I remember how I walked frantically about the house,
for I fairly worshipped the child, and the hardest part
of it was that I could do nothing ! nothing !

To me, now looking back on the past years of my
life, the most agonizing moments, the worst extremi-
ties, have been when it has been forced upon my
inward consciousness, " there was nothing more could
be done." Oh, how the echo of these words seems to
pierce the very soul ! One can bear up and put on a
brave face while there is hope, and something to be
done ; but when brought face to face with that awful
nothing then is the time when we need comfort
which it is beyond the power of man to give.

I remember, as I was pacing up and down the
room after reading father's letter, for it seemed im-
possible for me to keep still, my eyes happened to
fall on a tiny white sock of the baby's, carelessly
thrown on the top of my work-basket. I snatched it
up and pressed it to my lips, and then the tears burst
forth, and I fell on my knees beside a chair and
prayed as I had never done before that God would
spare the life of the child.

Did He not hear me ? Yea, verily, I say He did.

Oh ! what a long Saturday that was, and Sunday
too. All I could do was to collect everything I could
think of that would be useful to Bet and the child, if

62 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

she should be still living when her father reached her.
I went to the station with him on Monday morning,
and he promised to send us news as speedily as pos-
sible. We had not to wait so long, though ; our
dreadful suspense was nearly over. The next morn-
ing we received another letter from father saying
the child was better. He knew what our anxiety
would be and hastened to send us the good news.

It appears, from what I learned afterwards, that the
day father wrote the letter to me Bet had passed a
dreadful night with the little one. She was in a burn-
ing fever, and in the early morning as she lay on her
mother's lap with half-closed eyes, her little mouth
opening with a faint gasp at every breath, my father
thought nothing less than that her hours, nay even
her very minutes, were numbered. He could not bear
the sight, and, knowing what Bet's despair would be if
the worst came to pass, he made up his mind to fetch
Mrs. Spencer, a kind-hearted neighbor, to stay with
her, and go on himself to Port Carling in order to
write to us and send the bad news. It was in this
way we received the letter from him which threw us
into such a state of despair.

Knowing father so well, we were fully aware that
he would not have written us like that unless he had
given up all hope — and so he had, for he actually
believed her dying when he went for Mrs. Spencer.
She, good-hearted soul, started off at once to Bet's
assistance, but to her intense relief found on her arrival

BET'S BABY. 63

at the house that the baby had taken a turn for the
better.

Winnie said that after father left the child's head
and face were so burning hot that Bet took a sponge
and, dipping it in cool water, held it on the little
brow. A few drops trickled down from the sponge
and the baby eagerly sucked them in. This made
Winnie, who was kneeling in front of Bet and watch-
ing the child, suggest putting her in a warm bath,
which they proceeded to do. This must have been
the turning point, for almost directly after she broke
out into a profuse perspiration, her breathing became
more natural, she fell into a sweet sleep, and, " thanks
be to God," her life was spared.

Poor father, though away at Port Carling, knew
nothing of this happy change, and as he rowed home,
full of the most gloomy forebodings, he dreaded to
approach the house. As he landed he stood still and
listened. What was that he heard ? A moan, no, it
was Winnie's merry laugh. The relief brought by
this sound, and the reaction from his sad forebodings,
seemed to take all his strength away. He managed
to get up to the door, but when the girls saw his
ghastly face they thought something dreadful must
have happened, and they called out, " Oh ! what is
the matter?" They thought perhaps Benny was
drowned, but he reassured them and was soon all
right again.

The baby, by the time her father arrived late on

64 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

the Monday evening, was very much better and able
to smile at her own " dada" and enjoy the things he
had brought her. We in Toronto were overjoyed
when we heard the glad news and could not be
thankful enough.

Have you not noticed when some heavy blow
seems about to fall upon us how every smaller trouble
and worry sinks away into nothingness; we wonder
to ourselves how such trifles could ever have caused
us to complain. Yet, I am afraid, no sooner shall God
have turned our sorrow into joy than we shall still go
on and worry once more over all the petty annoy-
ances we have to encounter in this mortal life.

My sister Bet never had any more children, so
little Nancy grew up as the very apple of her eye.
When she was just entering her teens she lost her
good father, and Bet the most loving of husbands.
This was a most terrible blow, the first break in our
happy family band, and we felt it very keenly both
for poor Bet's sake and our own. My brother-in-law
had always been of such a bright, happy disposition.
He made many friends, but never an enemy. He was
a thorough John Bull, both in looks and ways, jovial
and good-hearted. The gap he made in our family
circle has never been filled up. Cut off in the prime
of his life, leaving his devoted wife a widow and his
dearly loved child an orphan, it was hard to say
" Thy will be done."

But God gives strength in the hour of need.

BET'S BABY. 65

Nancy did her childish best to comfort and cheer her
mother's loneliness. They seemed to live for each
other. She has grown now into lovely womanhood,
and as good as she is lovely. Bet returned to
us to be the stay and comfort of my father's and
mother's declining years. She never left them again.
She was daughter, mother, sister, all in one, and I
have no words with which to praise her. I can only
quote what father said in a letter written to us, to be
read after his death, " As for Bet, the Lord will
reward her."

CHAPTER VI.

MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSK OK A, TWENTY-FIVE
YEARS AGO.

" God gives us with our rugged soil

The power to make it Eden-fair,
And richer fruits to crown our toil
Than summer-wedded islands bear.

Who murmurs at his lot to-day ?

Who scorns his native fruit and bloom ?
Or sighs for dainties far away

Beside the bounteous board of home.

Thank Heaven instead that Freedom's arm

Can change a rocky soil to gold,
That brave and generous lives can warm

A clime with northern ices cold."

— Whittier.

I WILL pass lightly over the next two or three
years. There were no great changes in our
family circle. My father had left Dale End and
had removed to his own clearing in Hathaway's Bay,
where he had built a rude log shanty for present
use, intending to put up a better house after a time.
Ben had left school — was indeed growing quite a
man — and now spent his time entirely with father in
Muskoka. My brother Joe was married to a Scotch-
Canadian girl, a farmer's daughter, and had one little

66

MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSKOKA. 67

daughter, also named after me. This " baby Nancy,"
though, was a complete contrast to her cousin ; she
was a dark-haired little gipsy. I used to call them
my blonde and brunette beauties. My sister Sue
was on the high road to matrimony, and even our
little Winnie was beginning to follow in her foot-
steps,— but more of this later.

We had been now six years living in Toronto.
Five of these I had been employed in the same
store, and I had never yet had an opportunity
of visiting Muskoka. In all these years I had
been given no holidays, with the exception of
the days set apart as public holidays. This was
before the time of early closing — the stores were
open from eight in the morning till nine or ten at
night, even later on Saturdays. Think of that, you
lucky employees of Eaton's and Simpson's, and I
hear even you indulge in an occasional grumble.
Thank your stars you are now in the twentieth
century. On the public holidays, of course, we had
taken all the pleasure we could ; we had been to
Niagara Falls two or three times, to Grimsby camp
grounds once, and many times for quiet family
picnics up the Humber River. This was all I had
seen of Canada so far, but this summer I was to see
Muskoka.

I had leave of absence for two weeks. Four-
teen days to revel in country freedom. Think of
it, and try to imagine my feelings. Winnie was

68 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

already up there staying with father at his shanty
on the farm, and now my turn had come at last.

Now, you must not think because I had not yet
seen this country with my mortal eyes that I was in
a state of ignorance as regards it. No ! Muskoka
had been talked of, described, explained, by every
member of our family who had seen it, till I had the
whole thing in my mind as plainly as if it were
drawn on a map ; indeed, " after-dinner maps," as
you might call them, were continually being drawn
on our tablecloths illustrating the Muskoka lakes
and the position of the Hathaway domicile. We
used to take the cruet for a starting place, the sugar
bowl for the terminus, the salt cellars for islands,
a meandering stream of bread crumbs for the boat's
course, and in this manner I became so familiarized
with the geography of the lakes that I believe I
almost could have steered the vessel myself from
Gravenhurst onwards. So don't think for a moment
that I came as a stranger to Muskoka, for I was
most intimately acquainted in one sense.

The Muskoka Navigation Company had by this
time advanced so far as to send one of their boats — I
think it was the old Nipissing — twice a week to the
head of Lake Joseph. This boat passed through the
cut between the two lakes at Port Sandfield, and this
was now the nearest point to my father's land, some
miles nearer than Port Carling ; so thither I was to
go. We had written father the week previous, telling

MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSKOKA. 69

him which day I was coming, and Ben was to meet
me with the rowboat Notwithstanding this, I was
given minute directions by both mother and Bet in
case there should be any misunderstanding and I
found nobody awaiting me; all of which extra pre-
cautions came in most usefully, as you will hear.

It was a lovely morning near the end of July when I
set forth, Bet and Sue walking with me to the little
station behind the Market, from which the Northern
trains used to start. We were all three laden like
pack-horses, with baskets and bundles of every size
and shape. I had an axe-handle and rake for father,
a fishing-rod and trawl for Ben, a big cake and plum
pudding from mother, some pots of jam and half a
ham from Bet, besides sundry other articles in the
edible line contributed by myself. These, with my
clothes and some belongings of Winnie's, made quite
a formidable pile. Still we could not resist the temp-
tation, as we passed the Market, of adding two or
three other little dainties to our store.

" Such a treat to them, poor things," we murmured
in excuse, " they don't get much up there." The girls
came in the car with me, and after all my proper-
ties were disposed of, between and under the seats,
bade me a fond farewell, wishing over and over again
that they were going with me, and sending countless
messages to those already there.

I found plenty to interest me after the train
started in looking out of the windows, for the
5

70 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

country was all new to me. I could not help, too,
contrasting the convenience of the cars here with
the old third-class carriages in England ; but -they
have improved upon them since those days. As
we approached Barrie I became more interested, as
mother had often described the beautiful bay there,
and the way in which Allandale and Barrie were situ-
ated opposite to each other. I was also interested
because I had been told that here I could procure a
cup of tea, so I opened my lunch basket, for I had
been too excited in the morning to eat much break-
fast.

Hearing the conductor, as we slowed up, call out,
" Twenty minutes for refreshments ! " I dismounted,
and went into the little station. It was rather a poor,
dismal-looking place in those days. The "refresh-
ment room " had one bare counter, and a few plates
of eatables, very uninviting looking, were scattered
about on its surface.

A pert-looking girl behind it (who was busily
engaged in flirting with one of the train hands)
responded to my modest request for a cup of tea by
thumping down in front of me a very thick cup,
about half rilled with a dark-colored, strongly-smell-
ing fluid supposed to be tea. I added some milk
and swallowed the decoction, meanwhile handing her
a quarter in payment, meekly waiting, when I had
finished, for my change ; but the maid, taking no
further notice of me, still continued her flirtation.

MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSKOKA. 71

I ventured after awhile to interrupt her by saying
"There is fifteen cents coming to me, I believe."

" No ! there ain't anything coming to you," she
replied, " the tea is a quarter."

"Oh ! but," I said, "look at the card on the wall
behind you," where in large letters was printed on
the list, " Cup of tea, ice."

" Well," she said, "that means it's ice. when you
buy your lunch here, and 25c. when you don't."

For a moment I was struck dumb with amazement,
then my indignation arose and I once more demanded
my change, instantly, for the train was going. All to
no purpose, for with an insolent smirk she still refused
to hand out the money. I hated to go after being so
gulled and leave her triumphant, yet I knew I must ;
but my glance happened to fall on a dirty-looking
pumpkin pie, and snatching it up, I said, " Well ! I'll
have this instead of change, anyway," and made a
rush for the cars, already starting to move, regained
my seat and had the immense satisfaction of smashing
up the pie and throwing it out of the window as we
left the station. I hope no poor dog was poisoned
with the remnants.

To this day I never pass Allandale station but I
laugh at the recollection of this adventure, though at
the time I was in anything but a laughing mood.

Mr. Roberts told me a more laughable story still,
of this same station. He was going down to Toronto
from Muskoka with two friends, and they were very

72 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

hungry when they arrived at Allandale. One of the
friends entered the waiting-room first and approached
the afore-mentioned counter to find out what he
could get. Seeing three or four sausage rolls under
a glass cover, he lifted it and took one, bit a piece
off, spat it out in his hand and made for the door.
Mr. Roberts, meanwhile, knowing nothing of this,
entered and was also tempted to take a sausage roll.
He acted exactly as his friend had done, whom he
met at the door returning after disposing of his too
savory morsel.

The third friend at this moment approached, and
the two winked at each other and waited to see the
fun. Number three innocently approached the
counter, spied the sausage rolls, smacked his lips,
lifted the lid and took one. After biting it, however,
he did not act as the others had done ; he quickly
popped it back again under the cover and walked off
in an unconcerned way, pretending to whistle till he
could find an opportunity of ejecting the piece in his
mouth.

At this moment the attendant (a man this time, per-
haps the proprietor) returned with the tea which num-
ber one had ordered on entering. He immediately
spotted the mutilated roll under the glass, and de-
manded, in thundering tones, " Who bit that roll ? "

The other two denied the charge, but satisfied him
by paying for the three rolls, and returned to the
train as hungry as ever, but wisely agreeing, after

MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSKOKA. 73

having a hearty laugh over it, to wait till they reached
Toronto before attempting another feed. (N.B. — The
rolls must have been under the cover a month.) But
I must return to my story.

After passing Orillia and Lake Couchiching, it did
not seem long before we arrived at Muskoka Wharf
and saw the Nipissing awaiting us. Here I had, for
the first time, though by no means the last, the
pleasant experience of travelling back and forth, five
or six times, between the cars and the boat, with my
numerous belongings, before I got them all safely
aboard. This was due, I dare say my readers will
say, to my condition of single blessedness ; but I
fancy, nay, am even sure, I have seen ladies who are
the proud possessors of husbands occasionally doing
the same thing.

The Navigation Company's boats, at this time, used
to travel first up the river to Bracebridge and back,
then go on up Lake Muskoka to Port Carling; so this
afforded me an opportunity of seeing the windings of
that pretty river which I had so often heard mother
enthusiastically describe. I enjoyed this part of the
journey very much. About half way up the river we
passed the Muntz homestead, and in this I was
interested, for they were an old Warwickshire family;
Once, when I was a child, I went on a visit to an
uncle in Birmingham, who was a warm personal
friend of their family. It was the time of the elections,
and Mr. Muntz was the Liberal candidate. I rode in

74 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

the carriage with my uncle to the polling place. I
remember there was a tremendous crowd around, and
while I was waiting outside I heard them cheering. I
said to uncle, when he came out, " What were they
cheering for ? " and he replied, " Oh ! that was when I
said ' Plump for Muntz.' " A very mysterious saying
to me, but he afterwards kindly explained its mean-
ing. Now the next time I come across the name is
far away in the wilds of Muskoka. The world is not
so wide after all, as I often remark.

After we had passed through the locks at Port
Carling and were out on Lake Rosseau, I began to
look out for the " Sandy Portage," as we used to call
it in those days ; and when we sighted the high black
bridge (now a vanished landmark of the past) my
heart beat high at the thought that now I should see
a familiar loved face, either father's or Benny's, per-
haps both. But, alas for the vanity of earthly hopes !
when I had been dumped unceremoniously out into
the sand-bank on the side of the cut, with all my
baggage surrounding me, I saw no boat, no friendly
face — in fact, no face at all was there, except my own
disconsolate visage, which lengthened considerably as
I gazed after the rapidly disappearing steamer.

What was to be done ? I sat down on my biggest
bundle to think. After thinking — which brought
small comfort — I got up and began to look around.
I walked up to the Rosseau end of the cut, and
there, moored out in the middle of the bay, I saw a

MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSKOKA. 75

small fishing yacht. It was apparently deserted,
but as I looked at it my spirits rose and courage
returned. If there were fishing yachts in the neigh-
borhood there must be fishermen, and I was not, as
I had imagined for a few minutes past, in quite as
bad a plight as Robinson Crusoe, singing, " Oh
solitude, where are thy charms?" I pursued my
investigations. I walked to the other end of the
canal — Lake Joseph — and here, to my delight, I saw
a rowboat pulled up on the sandy shore, and a little
farther away a party of young fellows fishing.

Now, to go back to those parting instructions
which I told you had been given me before leaving
Toronto, if it should happen that I found no one to
meet me on arriving at Port Sandfield, I was to try
and get someone with a boat to raw me across the
bay on the Lake Joseph side, to a farm house, which
was plainly visible from the bridge, wherein dwelt a
man known to my father, who would row me up
to Hathaway 's Bay. I at once acted on these
directions, and boldly approached the fishing party.
" Excuse me," I began, " but I was expecting my
brother to meet me here with a boat, as I have to go
quite a distance up Lake Joseph. I am afraid my
friends cannot have received my letter, as there is no
one here ; but if I could only get across to that house
(pointing to it with my finger) there is a man lives
there who would take me up the lake. I see you
have a boat ; will one of you be good enough to row

76 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

me across ? " They looked at one another and there
was a hurried consultation, then one of the party
stepped forward and offered his services. £ thanked
him and said I had a whole lot of packages lying
under the bridge, so he proceeded to empty the boat
of their own belongings before filling it with mine.
I noticed they were well stocked with provisions, for
he took out big lumps of plum cake, wedges of
cheese, boxes of soda biscuits and various bottles,
besides a big tea-kettle.

After the exchange had been effected, and we had
pushed off, I had, as I was seated in the stern
and facing him, for the first time a full view of
my companion's face. I said, "Pardon me, but
is your name Harrington ? " He said, " Yes." I
said, " Have you a sister named Nellie Barrington ? "
and again he said, " Yes," looking at me with surprise
(he was a good-looking young fellow, tall and fair).
" Well," I said to him, u I know your sister very well ;
we attend the same church, and I have once or twice
seen you ; perhaps you have heard her speak of Ann
Hathaway." Yes he had, so in this way we soon
became friendly and were chatting away quite pleas-
antly before we had crossed the bay. He left me in
the boat on our arrival at the shore and went up to
the house to make enquiries. Another disappoint-
ment— the man was away with his boat- and would
not be home till late at night.

Fortunately, however, I had one more string to my

MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSKOKA. 77

bow. I said to Mr. Harrington, " Will you mind
taking me about a quarter of a mile farther on. There
is an old fisherman named Noble, who knows father
well, and who has boats, too, and I think he would
take me up." So we started a second time ; but when
we reached the old fisherman's wharf we were foiled
again. Mr. Barrington went up to his little shanty,
but the door was fastened and no soul around the
place. This was a worse dilemma than ever.

I told Mr. Barrington he had better land me and my
bundles on the little wharf and leave me there, for I
did not feel like imposing any more on his kindness.
I assured him the old fisherman would most likely be
home soon, and that I should be all right. But he
would not consent to this arrangement at all. He
asked me how much farther it was to my father's
place, and I told him as nearly as I could. He then
good-naturedly said he would take me all the way.
I protested, but with no effect, so I had to give in,
and again we made a start.

The only thing which bothered him was that his
companions could not get back to their yacht, he
having the boat away. But he settled the matter by
saying, " I am not going to desert a lady in distress,
and I shall be back again before dark." I had the
inward satisfaction of knowing that his comrades
would not starve, anyway, with all the eatables on
hand which I had seen removed from the boat, so
said no more.

78 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

I soon discovered my companion to be a fine
oarsman. Our boat fairly danced over the water.
Many times have I gone over the same course since,
but I think he did it that evening in about half the
time we have ever accomplished the same distance in.
As we got farther up the lake he was inclined to
argue with me about the route — even as good as told
me I knew nothing about it. But I stuck to my guns
like a Trojan, and when we rounded the last point
and came in full view of the beautiful bay, I cried,
" There it is ! what a picture ! " Just as mother had
described it — the cleared land lying all round the
shore, planted with oats, which were so high and
green they had completely hidden the disfiguring
old stumps, so that it looked like one large field of
waving green.

My companion, though, still remained incredulous,
and was even rather unwilling to turn the boat
down the bay. But just at this moment I espied
another boat in the distance, two figures in it, one
rowing, the other trawling. I had a strong suspicion
who they were, and asked Mr. Barrington to shout to
them. Then I lowered the parasol I was carrying
completely over my figure, so as to surprise them
when they drew closer. My companion called out,
"Is this Mr. Hathaway 's place?" They looked
round and started to approach us. Sure enough, it
was Winnie and Ben. I did not let them see me till
the boats touched ; then what joyful exclamations,

MY FIRST VISIT TO MUSKOKA. 79

followed by explanations. They had never received
my letter. Port Carling, then the nearest post-office,
was a long way off, and they had all been busy with
the hay. We could see my father hurrying down to
the landing-place to see who his visitors were. But
after he had put me ashore nothing would induce Mr.
Barrington to stay and have tea with us before start-
ing on his return journey ; he hurried off as if to
escape from our thanks.

And now, for fear any of my young lady readers
should grow rather suspicious and imagine this to be
the opening chapter of a romance, I may as well,
here and now, dispel such illusions by asserting the
fact, undeniably true, from that day to this I have
never again set eyes on that kind young man. I
hope he is still alive ; he may perchance see this
story and recognise himself as its hero. If so, he will
at least know that his kindness to a stranger has
not been forgotten.

CHAPTER VII.
THE SHANTY AT THE FARM.

And what is home, and where ? but with the loving ;
Happy thou art, who can'st so gaze on thine."

— Mrs. Hemans.

OVER and over again, when father came down
to Toronto, had I asked him to describe to me
the shanty on the farm. I longed to get a picture of it
in my mind. Once he said, laughingly, in reply to my
persistent questioning, " Go out into the back shed,
then look around, fancy it a little rougher and a little
smaller and there you have it."

Many times after he said this I stood in that
shed and gazed round it, doubting, incredulous.
Surely he must be joking ; they could not be
living in a place like that. But I discovered now
there was not much exaggeration in his remark.
The shanty (I fancy I see it now as we walked
up the hill from the lake) was built on the side
of a little bluff facing the mouth of the bay, and
commanding a lovely view. It was a square low hut
built of rough logs, chinked with moss and mud, the
floor of uneven rough boards. A few boards on poles
at the back formed a shelter for the cooking-stove.

80

THE SHANTY AT THE FARM. 81

There was one small window. I don't think it had any
glass, but a piece of netting tacked over to keep out
the mosquitoes. The entrance was a low square door-
way in front, which it was impossible for any one
above medium height to pass through without either
ducking down or bumping his head ; so that most of
the visitors had rather a rueful expression of counten-
ance as they gazed round its interior for the first time.
However, as there are two sides to every question,
there were certainly two sides to that doorway, and
the strangers forgot their bumps and stopped rubbing
their bruised craniums to exclaim with delight when
they turned round and saw the picture which that door-
way framed. Never shall I forget how I feasted my
eyes on its beauty that first evening. How I longed to
be a great painter, that I might transfer ,that lovely
scene to canvas so that all the world might have an
opportunity of admiring.

It was near sunset, the sky one mass of glowing
tints, a lovely little wooded island lying in front of the
bay bathed in the glorious light, the water like a sea
of glass, reflecting every tint of the sky. But what
are words ? How could I describe it ? I just feasted
my soul, gazing silently on its loveliness till my eyes
filled with tears and I had to turn away. Oh, Mus-
koka ! rough thou may'st be, uncultivated, rude
and wild, but yet for thy magic charm of nature in
all her beauty thou stand'st alone, without a peer.

Now to return to the inside of the shanty. There

82 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

was a table made from a packing-case, two or three
benches to match, two mattresses on one side of the
room with rough home-made frames instead of bed-
steads, a sheet hung between them to act as screen.
On a big shelf, overhanging the beds, was stowed all
the heavy old lumber, barrels, shingles, tools, nails,
odds and ends of all kinds collected by my father
for years, enough to fill a second-hand store. This
shelf with its miscellaneous contents proved to be
quite a bugbear to me during my stay. Perhaps it
would be more correct to say nightmare, as I often lay
awake at night in mortal dread that the shelf would
give way and its whole ton or so of contents precipi-
tate themselves upon the luckless heads of poor
Winnie and myself, bringing death and destruction
in their train. Father and Ben did not seem at all
alarmed, though sleeping under the same incubus, and
their peaceful snoring in sweet harmony (alto and
bass) had a calming and reassuring effect on my
nerves and would soothe me off to sleep again.

One night we had a terrific thunderstorm. We
were all in bed. The lightning flashes shone through
every crack in the logs and illuminated the room ;
the thunder was dreadful, too, and the rain came
down in torrents. There is no doubt Muskoka is
capable of getting up a good thunderstorm.

The days of my holiday passed all too quickly. So
did the provisions. The butter melted away within a
week — the cakes, jam, pudding, likewise. The half

THE SHANTY AT THE FARM. 83

ham we still held in reserve, and had hung it up high
on the log wall out of the reach of our big dog Rover.
It proved, on being taken down, to have attracted unto
itself enough of the lower forms of animal life, in the
shape of grubs, beetles, ants, etc., to have delighted
the soul of an entomologist. Father said they came
out of the logs, and showed their wisdom in the
choice of the fittest dwelling-place, preferring good
ham to decaying wood. Winnie and I were in no
humor for a joke as we saw our last standby reduced
by one half before it was fit for the pot. Neverthe-
less we had to grin and bear it.

Our bill of fare after this did not comprise much
variety. We eked out the ham as long as we could,
and then we came down to bread and cucumbers.

Luckily father had a prolific cucumber bed, and
the Hathaway family, young and old, dote on cucum-
bers. So we indulged in them ad libitum — not quite,
though, for father thought best to limit us to one
each for breakfast, dinner and tea, for fear the supply
should give out. We had no vinegar, so we just
peeled them down, dipped them in salt, and ate them
like you do bananas. Occasionally we added to our
bill of fare a feast of huckleberries gathered off the
rocks, and we had porridge, but minus sugar or milk ;
tea ditto.

After I got back to the city I was very fond of
propounding to my friends the following conundrum
(all my own invention, mind you) : " Which would

84 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

you rather be, in Muskoka with a tremendous
appetite and very little to satisfy it, or here in the
city this broiling hot weather with every luxury at
command and no appetite to enjoy ? " This was a
poser, and often caused considerable discussion. I
think, though, the first alternative nearly always
gained the day.

Winnie and I spent, I think, about one-third
of our time in the water. There was a fine sandy
shore, shallow for a long way out. We used to
take the old boat and, holding one on each side,
rock back and forth and float around by the hour,
both of us attired in the scantiest of costumes, for
Winnie held stoutly to the theory, " the smaller the
bathing dress the more enjoyable the bathing," a little
strip of old lace curtain being her favorite get-up.
She was also determined that old Rover should share
our daily ablutions, and if he objected at any time,
preferring a quiet snooze in the sun, she would tie her
towel round his neck and bring him down to the
water by main force. I can see her now, in her airy
costume, flying down the rocks, the dog yelping and
barking. If I had only been an artist ! But alas ! as
the poet says, " The loveliest rose is born to blush un-
seen." So Winnie had only poor me for an admirer.

One day father had to row to Port Carling, for we
were out of flour. I was eager to go, too, for I had
learned to row a little ; so he took me with him
instead of Ben. The wind was in our favor as we
went down Lake Joseph, and I remember that father

THE SHANTY AT THE FARM. 85

cut the top off a bushy young tree and fixed it up in
the boat to act as a sail. We went rushing through
the water at a fine rate. We passed Port Sandfield,
the scene of my troubles, and arrived in the Indian
River before noon. Here we called at a friend's
house, an English settler whose daughter had boarded
with mother in Toronto. We had dinner here, and
father left me with them and went on to the Port for
the flour. On his return, about three o'clock, we
started for home. But when we got out into the open
lake we found the wind very strong and dead against
us. At last it became so rough, the water washing
into the boat, that I had to give up my oars and sit in
the stern, leaving poor old dad to battle with it alone.
It seemed for the next hour as if we made no
progress whatever. It took all father's strength to
keep the boat in position. We were between " Fern-
dale " and the " Eagle's Nest," and for about two
hours we were trying to pass a small house which we
could see away on the mainland. We took it as a
landmark, and twenty times, at short intervals, father
kept asking, " Have we passed it yet ? " Indeed it
appeared as if we never should pass it ; but at last I
was able joyfully to announce, " I think it is getting
behind us." I never felt more like saying " Get thee
behind me, Satan," than I did to that poor unconscious
cot. However, we reached, at last, a more sheltered
part, behind an island, and took a rest for a few
minutes, for poor father was quite played out.

By good fortune we had a big can of milk on the

86 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

boat, which our friends had given us to take home,
knowing that we had no cow. This was a godsend,
indeed, just then, for dad drank freely of it — finished
it, in fact, before we reached home, and had to take to
drinking water for the last mile. After we reached
Lake Joseph the wind dropped, the moon rose, the
stars shone out, we forgot our troubles, and the rest
of our journey was calm and peaceful. It was late
when we got home, hungry and tired it is true, but in
a contented frame of mind, and quite ready to do
justice to the supper which Winnie had ready for us.

N.B. — We never mentioned the milk. Dad thought
their disappointment would be too great, and, as he
said, "What the eye didn't see the heart wouldn't
grieve for."

I forgot to tell you that we found letters awaiting
us at Port Carling. A long epistle from Bet, full of
injunctions and cautions, bemoaned her own fate
that she could not be with us. Then I had one from
my employer, graciously giving me leave to stay until
the following Monday, instead of returning on
Saturday ; two more days of bliss for me. Then
Winnie had a letter from Mr. Roberts, who was stay-
ing in Bracebridge, saying he would arrive next day
to stay over Sunday. I suppose I must let you into
the secret here, that Mr. Roberts and our little
Winnie were lovers fond and true, so there was joy
all round, and we went to bed and slept soundly in
spite of the overhanging incubus.

CHAPTER VIII.

LOVE IN THE WOODS.

" Money's worth is house and land,

Velvet coat and vest.
Work's worth is bread in hand,

Aye ! and sweet rest.
Wilt thou learn what Love is worth ?

Ah ! she sits above
Sighing, Weigh me not with earth,

Love's worth is Love."

HAVE my readers ever seen what is called a
" mind autograph album " ? They used to
be quite the rage twenty or thirty years ago, but
are rarely seen now. There is a fashion even in
such things as these. Each page of these albums
contained a number of questions with spaces left for
replies, which the owner of the book asked his friends
and acquaintances to fill in. When all the questions
were answered it was supposed to contain a kind of
mental photograph of the writer — I am afraid not a
very truthful one, for the answers depended so much
upon the mood in which the person happened to be,
merry or sad, contented or the reverse.

I was looking over an old one of my own, which I
came across to-day, rilled in by my relatives and

87

88 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

friends about twenty-five years ago. I cannot help
remarking two or three things. One is, the false
estimate we often put upon ourselves, as the most
indolent of my friends have written industry as the
good quality they most admired ; those with whom
number one was ever first have written unselfishness;
those inclined to be hypocrites have put down truth;
those of rather a niggardly disposition, generosity.
And so, I suppose, if we are to judge these characters
correctly from the book we must go by the rule of
contrary.

The other thing which struck me was that to the
question, " What is the sublimest passion of which
human nature is capable ? " the answers of everyone
throughout the book was invariably the same — Love.
Old and young, saint and sinner, men and maidens,
all have as if with one consent written the word Love.

My dear old grandfather, who filled in the first
page, has indeed written " pure and holy Love " ; and
one friend has put " self-denying Love." But is not
all love that is worthy of being called love, pure, holy
and self-denying. It is all that and infinitely more.
It is not only the " greatest thing in the world " but
the greatest thing out of the world as well, for " God
is Love." Those three words, which I repeated parrot-
like as a child, with a very faint, if any, conception of
their true meaning, have become to me in later years
the very sheet-anchor of my faith and my greatest
comfort ; for if God is Love what can we poor sinners

LOVE IN THE WOODS. 89

expect from Him but love. Can we possibly look
forward with fear, after death, to an eternity of Divine
Love ? Does not Christ Himself try to encourage us
by likening His own great Love to us to the most
tender of earthly relationships, " Like as a father
pitieth his children " ; " If an earthly father giveth
good gifts, how much more ? " etc. But I am afraid
you will think this is too much like sermonizing, so
will proceed to tell you something of Winnie and her
lover, who are proving the truth of the old song, " Oh,
'tis love, 'tis love, 'tis love that makes the world go
round."

My sister Winnie was one of those few and happy
individuals who marry their first and only love. A
child in years when she first met Mr. Roberts, five
years before, her love had grown with her growth ;
starting as the opening bud of girlish romance, it had
blossomed with time into the full-blown rose of
woman's love. John Roberts, her betrothed, was just
the man to win a young girl's fancy. In the first
place, he was considerably older than she was, and as
every one knows, juvenile maidens detest boys as
lovers ; then he had a distinguished-looking air, a
bright, intelligent face, was well educated, and unusu-
ally well informed, for he had travelled considerably
in his time. He was of a very hopeful disposition,
which inclined him, as Winnie said, to be very fond
of " counting his chickens before they were hatched";
but he was the possessor of the most varied stock of

90 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

information I think any human brain could contain.
He had always been a great reader, and is to this day
the universal referee for the whole district. No
matter what subject one wishes to be informed upon,
" ask Mr. Roberts," he can always tell you.

Of course he is an Englishman ; strange to say,
my sisters have all married Englishmen. His en-
gagement to Winnie was now of some months'
standing, though any hint of marriage had so far been
strictly tabooed by mother. She dreaded to part
with her little ewe lamb. However, as from time im-
memorial mothers have had to resign themselves to
such partings, Miss Winnie's marriage, in the not
too distant future, was a foregone conclusion. When
father was taking up the government grant land for
the farm, Mr. Roberts had secured a piece adjoining it
of about fifty acres, and on this he intended to build a
nice little house of which Winnie would be mistress.
His arrrival next day, as promised, was a pleasure to
us all. It was by no means his first visit to the
farm, and as on all former occasions he had made
himself exceedingly useful, father gave a grunt of sat-
isfaction when he saw him, and remarked, "Ah, sir !
glad to see you ; just in time to help us with the oats.
We'll start in as soon as you've had a bit of some-
thing to eat" Poor Mr. Roberts! But father was
not quite so bad as his word ; he gave them a little
grace by taking forty winks after dinner, and while I
washed the dishes the lovers escaped for a ramble

LOVE IN THE WOODS. 91

through the woods; and all the oats cut by Mr.
Roberts that afternoon, as Benny jokingly remarked
at the tea table, " could be put in your eye."

As night drew on a serious difficulty presented
itself to my mind. " Where was our visitor going
to sleep ? " It was impossible for him to come under
le "incubus." We had no other place except the
little shed over the cook-stove at the back. I called
Winnie aside and consulted her on the matter. " Oh,"
she said, "he won't mind sleeping outside; the weather
is warm." " Outside ! " I cried ; " what ! on the bare
ground ? " No," she said, " on a board. He has often
done it ; he would as soon sleep outside as inside."
And so it proved, for soon after ten o'clock that
night he politely wished us good-night and retired
to the open. Next morning, on looking out, I saw a
long plank with one end resting on a stump. " What
is that?" I asked. "Oh," said Winnie, laughing,
" that is Mr. Roberts' bed. Doesn't it look comfort-
able ? " However, as he stoutly declared, on being
questioned, that he had slept well and been extremely
comfortable, I forbore further comment.

My happy holiday was now drawing rapidly to
a close. When Sunday came, father said he would
take me, after dinner, through the bush some three or
four miles to see Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, who had
been his nearest neighbors when he was at Dale End.
So far I had not done much walking through the
bush. Winnie and I had contented ourselves with

92 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

short excursions into the woods bordering our clear-
ing. Father warned me before starting not to put on
anything which would tear, and to wear my thickest
boots, but little did I dream what I was going to
encounter. We crossed the clearing in the burning
sun and then entered the woods, glad of the welcome
shade. We had not gone far before we came plump
upon our lovers, seated upon an old log, Winnie look-
ing as pretty as a picture in her blue print dress, for
all the world like a bunch of forget-me-nots against
the dark green moss ; Mr. Roberts, hat thrown aside,
gazing at her with admiring eyes. Father's signifi-
cant " Humph ! " and my sly laugh brought the color
into both their faces, but ours was only a momentary
intrusion ; we left them to their bliss and soon dis-
appeared from sight.

Father went ahead of me, partly to clear the way,
and I did my best to struggle on in the rear. But,
oh ! preserve us ! what a route ! Now clambering
over huge fallen logs, now sinking knee deep in soft
moss and rotten wood, ducking under branches,
jumping swampy places, breathlessly calling out to
father to stop a minute and let me catch up to him,
hot, exhausted, mosquito-bitten, I thought the journey
would never end. Father seemed to find his way
by chips taken out of the trees, which he called
blazes, but I began to fear we were surely lost. " You
said three or four miles," I ventured to remark, mak-
ing a rush to catch up to him ; " but surely we have

LOVE IN THE WOODS. 93

walked six or seven already ; the trees don't seem
quite so thick just here, though."

" Thick here ! " he exclaimed, " why you are on the
government road, and have been for the last twenty
minutes."

Mercy on us ! I hung my head abashed ; such
ignorance after two weeks in Muskoka, not to
recognize a government road when I was actually
walking on it. I wisely refrained from further speech,
and before long we arrived in sight of a snake fence,
the boundary of the Spencer clearing.

Mr. Spencer was an Englishman of good family
who had come out soon after his marriage, and had
been in Muskoka seven or eight years. He had
already a family of five or six sturdy boys and girls
growing up round him, and some of these were quick
to spy us as we climbed the rail fence and rushed
towards us, making a vigorous onslaught on my
father, for he was one of their prime favorites. They
seized on him bodily and marched him towards the
house, but before we reached it Mr. Spencer, in his
shirt-sleeves and big straw hat, came out to meet us.
He gave us both a most cordial welcome, and took
me in to introduce me to his wife.

She was thoroughly English-looking, fair and rosy,
with a bright, happy face which did not look as if she
had suffered much by " roughing it in the bush." She
could tell some tales of hardship, though, I have not

94 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

the slightest doubt. It is wonderful what people did
go through in those days.

I was talking to a lady last summer, and she was
telling me of her first experience in Muskoka, nearly
forty years ago, out Bracebridge way. She said they
could obtain nothing any nearer than Orillia, and then
were obliged to take just what they could get. She
arrived in June, her husband having come a month or
two ahead to get the house built. She said they
managed all right through the summer, but when win-
ter came they had no stove, so her husband started
for Orillia to buy one. He was only able to get a
little parlor cook-stove, and paid a big price for that.
Then when he had succeeded in getting it home they
did not know how to put it up. They cut a hole
through the logs just the height of the stove, then
put on an elbow and a length of pipe and thrust it
through the hole.

Of course, as the weather grew colder they had
to keep more fire, and the pipes would get red-hot
and set fire to the wood and moss around them.
This necessitated one of them sitting with a pail of
water and dipper to pour over the pipes to cool
them off. One day, as her husband was doing this,
an old Indian came in, and after observing him for
some time, asked why they did not get more pipes
and cut the hole up much higher ? which solution of
the difficulty, strange to say, had never entered either
of their heads. They took his advice, and he assisted

LOVE IN THE WOODS. 95

them to make the change, which not only added to
the warmth of the room, but saved them the necessity
of constantly watching the fire. We may " live and
learn," you see, even in a new country.

To return to the Spencer's, their children beat any-
thing I have ever seen for size and vigor — such limbs,
such lungs, such untiring strength ; even the baby,
eight months old, stood up in his solid wooden cradle,
and actually rocked himself with such an amount of
force that my heart was in my mouth as I watched
him. Nothing seemed to disturb Mrs. Spencer,
though. I suppose she was too well accustomed to
the racket. She maintained her tranquillity through it
all, and went around preparing the tea without taking
the slightest notice.

The furniture was plain and strong. I observed
the chairs and some other articles were hung up on
nails against the walls. I asked father, in a low voice,
the meaning of this. " Why, to keep the children from
smashing them all, to be sure." I was more awe-struck
than ever. By this time the tea was nearly ready,
and I discovered I was most ravenously hungry, and
began to look with keen interest at what was being
placed on the table. There was a big jug of milk
and a pot of tea, two large loaves, a pat of butter,
a big dish of lettuce, and last, but not least, an
immense custard pudding. The sight of this made
my mouth water after our late rather meagre fare at
the farm, and I impatiently awaited the summons to

96 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

the table. At last everything was ready, the chairs
handed down, the children seated round, and the
meal began.

I was in that condition I could have eaten anything
with a relish, but I confess I had a special eye on that
big custard, so it came with quite a shock when our
hostess, apologizing, informed us she had been with-
out sugar for some time, so there was none for the
tea nor none in the custard. Oh, dear ! what a come
down ; it took away my appetite. After tea was over
we prepared to start for home, and Mr. Spencer,
taking pity on me, kindly proposed rowing us part of
the way in his boat, and then showing us a shorter
and better track through the bush. In this way the
return journey was made in a much easier fashion,
but I shall never forget my first walk through the
" Muskoka bush." I may say just here that the
Spencer family now number a round dozen, and that
the pater and mater familias still live and flourish.

I don't know how it is that large families seem to
be the rule in Muskoka ; perhaps it is owing to the
bracing climate, fresh air, and absence of luxuries.
Twins also abound. In one case I know of three
pairs in one family. I could at this moment count
up over a dozen families on our lakes ranging in num-
ber from ten to fifteen. Well, the Bible says, " Blessed
is the man that hath his quiver full of them," and
there's room enough here and work enough, goodness
knows, so let them come. A Muskoka photographer

LOVE IN THE WOODS. 97

tells the tale that one day a settler's wife came to him
with her eleven children to have their pictures taken.
He told her what he would charge a dozen.

" Oh," she said, " can't you take less than a dozen ? "

"Well, not usually," he replied, with an eye to
business.

"Come along, children," said the woman, mourn-
fully, "I've only got eleven yet; we shall have to
come again when there's twelve," and they sadly
went their way.

When father and I got back to the farm that night
I had to prepare for my departure the next morn-
ing. I had to leave them all, and I felt dreadfully
low-spirited at going ; in fact, though I rarely shed
tears, and am considered by my softer-hearted friends
rather hard in consequence, I must confess I have
never been able to leave Muskoka without a few
briny drops falling into the lake over the edge of the
boat which was bearing me away. But as I do not
wish to part from you in too melancholy a mood, I
will finish this chapter by telling you a funny inci-
dent which occurred on Saturday afternoon.

Winnie and I were busy cleaning up the shanty
when Mr. Roberts came in and said, " Rover seems
very hungry; I don't believe you give him half
enough to eat. Why don't you do as I always did
with my big dog — boil some potatoes and oatmeal,
with all the scraps, in the big iron pot and make the
poor beast a good satisfying meal ? Here, give me

98

MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

the pot ; if you're busy I'll do it myself. Can I take
these pieces, and these ? "

Collecting all the odds and ends around, he put
the pot on the stove for awhile and then carried it
out to the dog. A short time after Winnie said to
me, " Nan, where have you put the soap ? It was
here a few minutes ago." I had not seen it, and
while we were making a vain search for it in every
direction, Mr. Roberts again popped his head in at
the door and said, " I don't know what ails the dog,
he won't eat it now I've taken the trouble to make it.
Just look at him." We went to the door and looked
across at Rover. There he stood, gazing at the pot
with a most rueful and hungry look, licking his lips,
sniffing, but not taking a bite. All at once an idea
seemed to strike Winnie. She ran across to the pot,
knelt down and smelled it, then burst into a peal of
laughing, and rolling on the grass fairly held her sides
with uncontrollable mirth — she had found the soap, so
had the dog !

CHAPTER IX.
THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE.

" Where brief sojourners in the cool, soft air
Forget their inland heats, hard toil and year-long care."

— Whittier.

1WILL again pass over two or three years of our
family history, just touching lightly the main
incidents which have since befallen us. In Muskoka
my father had cleared up considerably more of his
land and built a barn, but there were no available
funds for building a better house, so he still occupied
the shanty. In Toronto my mother still lived in
the same house, though Winnie and Sue were both
married.

Winnie's wedding was the first one and she had the
two little " Nancys," the blonde and brunette, as her
bridesmaids. A sweetly pretty group they were, too,
and as it was in June there were heaps of roses and
flowers, and the little maids had immense bouquets,
nearly as large as themselves. The newly-married
pair went to their woodland home in Muskoka after
the marriage.

The following year Sue made up her mind, too, and
amongst her numerous followers decided on one, and

99

100 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

took him for better or worse. The little bridesmaid's
services were again in requisition, so now I had three
brothers-in-law. The last one, James Marsden, we
always reckon as the "smart man of the family."
Bet boasted that her husband was the best tempered ;
Winnie's husband was the oldest ; Sue's was the
smartest, so they each had something to be proud of.
Sue's new home was to be in Toronto, and is so still.
It is, and has been for years, the headquarters for all
the Muskoka relations when they visit the city, and
good-natured Sue acts as our general business agent,
for scarcely a week passes but she has some commis-
sion for somebody, poor girl. She is what you might
call a " general convenience " to the Muskoka tribe.

At the time of which I am writing people were just
beginning to discover the advantages of the Muskoka
Lakes as a place of summer resort, and visitors were
becoming more numerous year by year. The accom-
modation for these strangers was, however, very
limited. There was one hotel at the head of Lake
Rosseau, one at Port Cockburn (the head of Lake
Joseph), another at Port Carling, and I think this was
all. The homes of the settlers were, as a rule, small
and roughly finished, and furnished with little except
children ; of the latter the supply was unlimited.
Summer cottages were almost unknown, so it was
becoming a serious question where to put the visitors
when they did come.

My mother, I think, was the first one to conceive

THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE. 101

the idea of building a large boarding-house for tour-
ists. She used to talk to Mr. Roberts when he was
down on a visit to the city. He was, even then, a
firm believer in the future of the Muskoka Lakes, and
though these talks might have led to nothing, an
event happened at this time which caused them to
take a definite shape. This was the death of my
grandfather at the old homestead in England, in
consequence of which my father came into possession
of a sum of money which would go a good way
towards carrying out the plans in mother's mind.

My father, too, saw the wisdom of the idea, and fore-
saw that in the near future there would be more money
made in Muskoka by boarding the summer visitors
than by farming. Of course the season was short —
just the months of July and August — and though the
rush all at once would make the work more arduous
for the time being, there remained the long winter
and spring months when they would be entirely at
liberty, could shut up their house and leave it to take
care of itself while they came down and visited those
of their children who lived in the city. It was decided
then to start building the big boarding-house in the
spring. It was big to us at that time, and when com-
plete would accommodate about fifty guests. Father
did not hope to get it entirely finished and furnished,
too, the first summer, but he thought he would have
it so far advanced as to enable him to take a few
tourists to start with about the middle of July.
7

102 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Accordingly, as soon as navigation opened and the
frost was out of the ground, the foundation was dug
and the work began. The building was a plain and
barn-like structure of two and a-half stories, very
different to the ornate and varied buildings of the
present day. There seemed to be but one model for
Muskoka houses in those days, and that was the plain
and homely barn with an added verandah. But in
the eyes of the Hathaway family it was a palace
indeed. I did not see it until nearly completed, but in
the beginning of July I was granted, by my kind
employer, a whole month's holiday in order that I
might go up and help with the cleaning, fixing and
general preparation for opening the new house. My
mother had decided not to move from her Toronto
home until the following spring, so of course she could
not be with us. So Bet and I, therefore, were entrusted
with full charge of the opening ceremonies.

This was the occasion of my second visit to
Hathaway's Bay, and very glad was I to see it once
more. I found the new house looking in anything
but a habitable state, neither doors nor windows in,
and hammering and sawing going on briskly in
every direction.

" I do not see what we can do for the present in
the cleaning line," I said to father that night, as I sat
talking to him in the shanty.

" Oh, well," he replied, " we are not quite ready for
that ; but a few days more work and things will look

THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE. 103

very different. Even if we are not ready till the first
of August, we may get some late-comers and make a
few dollars, perhaps ; but we shall see."

You may be sure Bet and I took advantage of this
respite for the next few days from the broom and
scrubbingb-rush exercise which we had been looking
forward to, and we made up our minds to have a good
old time while we could. We had Winnie now to go
and see, and more than Winnie, too, for there was a
lovely little blue-eyed baby there, and we set off next
morning to visit her. She lived in a little cottage in
the midst of the woods, about a mile from my father's
place, and even in the short time she had lived there
had converted her surroundings into a bower of
flowers. She had a small verandah shaded with
Virginia creepers, and here, sitting on the floor, we
found the baby. Winnie came running out when she
heard our voices, delighted to see us once more and
hear all the Toronto news.

After admiring the boy, who was a little more
than a year old and named John Hamlet (we
had to have a Shakespearian name, of course),
though it was familiarly shortened to " Letto " —
as Winnie laughingly said one John or Jack either
was enough for her — we went indoors to view the
interior of her domain, leaving the baby on the
verandah. Winnie said she generally left him
there the whole morning while she was about
her housework. He was just beginning to creep

104 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Winnie used to tether him with a piece of string tied
round his waist and fastened to a nail in the floor, so
that he could not crawl off the verandah. About four
or five feet was the limit of his peregrinations, and it
was laughable to see him when first set down and
secured. He would start off on hands and knees at a
racing speed, and then suddenly would be brought up
short to his intense astonishment ; then, with renewed
energy, he would start again in another direction, to
be brought once more to the same sudden stop. Winnie
said he was always putting any small things he could
lay his hands on through the knot-holes in the veran-
dah floor, and in that way she kept losing her thimbles,
spools, buttons, etc. While she was telling us this a
piercing shriek from the baby made us all rush out to
see what had happened. Winnie fell down on her
knees beside him, and he clung to her, screaming
evidently nearly scared out of his wits. We gazed
round, but nothing was to be seen that could have
frightened him.

" What is it, my darling ? " said Winnie, trying to
soothe him, but he started back from her embrace and
fixed his eyes with a most terrified expression on one
of the largest knot-holes in the flooring.

Naturally we all looked in the same direction, and
at that moment a cat's paw come up through the
hole, shook itself, and disappeared again. The baby
gave another fearful yell of terror and buried his face
in his mother's gown. Up came the paw again and

THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE. 105

shook itself in the most playful manner. We shook,
too, with laughing, as we helped Winnie to untie him
and carry him indoors. The pussy cat had been under
the verandah, and, attracted by the light through
the hole and the little fingers poking at it, evidently
wanted to have a game at play.

The baby never forgot his fright, though, and always
avoided the spot. As soon as he could talk he spoke
of it with bated breath as " the great eye-scratcher's
hole."

Before we left we arranged with Winnie that she
should come over to father's early the next morning
and we would all go together to. pay a visit to the
Spencers, which we accordingly did. We carried the
baby by turns, and I found the road had been some-
what improved since I paid my former memorable
visit.

We found Mrs. Spencer looking as young and
happy as ever, nursing the latest arrival ; there had
been two or three added to the family since I was
there before. She was delighted to see us all, and
cordially invited us to stay awhile, which we were not
sorry to do, for we were tired with our long walk. The
younger children were indoors, and Mrs. Spencer had
been fortunate enough to secure the services of a
young girl, not long out from Ireland, who, though
ignorant of the ways of this country as yet, was still
willing and good tempered, and a great help with the
little ones.

106 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

We told her we were going to do without servants
this season ; for the short time we should have the
house open we thought we could manage. While we
were chatting the aforesaid Irish maid came rushing
into the room, greatly excited, but, seeing visitors, was
making off again, when Mrs. Spencer, thinking some-
thing was amiss, called her back. " And plaze, ma'am,"
she burst forth, "and what do you think those
child'her are afther doin' now ? Shure if they hav'nt
shtole the new ball of shtring masther was afther git-
ting for the swate pays, and a whole paper full of
nails, and have tied nearly iv'ry blissid hen on the
nists, and shure the young rascals say they're going to
kape them there till they consint to lay, no mather,
they says, if they all shtarves to dith fust."

Mrs. Spencer hastily arose and, giving the baby to
the girl, started off to investigate matters, and we,
being curious, quickly followed her. Sure enough,
when we got to the hen-house pandemonium reigned.
There were about half a dozen hens securely tied on
the nests, and the squawking, racket and dust were
awful. They had strings to their legs, their necks,
their wings and tails. The work had been most
thoroughly done, and the strings were all secured at
different angles by means of the nails.

The older children were proudly surveying their
handiwork, and the younger ones capering around in
great glee, shouting, "Now we shall have eggs,
mother, lots of eggs !" " It was Ben Hathaway told

THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE. 107

us, yesterday," broke in another one. " He said, * If
your hens don't lay, tie them on the nests till they
do/ So we have, mother, and they're trying hard, but
they'll never get loose." " Never get loose ! Never
get loose ! " shouted the little ones in chorus, jumping
up and down to emphasize the words. The scene
was indescribably comic, and we laughed till our sides
ached, but Mrs. Spencer scolded them roundly. "You
bad children, run at once and get me a knife," and she
proceeded summarily to cut the strings, much to the
disappointment of the children. " If Ben Hathaway
told you such a thing he was just fooling," she told
them. " I'm sure I don't know what you'll do next.
I never saw such children. Go along with you, every
one," and she led the way back to the house.

When, on our return home, we told Ben the joke, he
fairly exploded. He had made the remark to the
children as he was passing, just in fun, never thinking
of them acting on it so literally.

When Sunday came (the men working on the
building having gone home from Saturday night till
Monday morning) we were looking forward to a
pleasant day altogether, for Winnie and her husband
were coming to dinner. Bet had concocted a very
savory meat pie out of our last scraps of fresh meat,
and, though it was not large, the smell was delicious,
and we all gathered round the table with very good
appetites, prepared to enjoy it. Just as father had
put his knife in the pie, we heard a noise in the

108 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

distance, bang ! banging ! like a heavy weight being
dragged along. Bet ran to the little window and
across the clearing she saw coming the whole Spencer
family ; Mrs. Spencer enthroned on an old stone-boat
with her babies, drawn by the old horse, with Mr.
Spencer at his head, the other juvenile members of
the family careering wildly around.

When she heard who was coming, Winnie gave one
despairing look at the meat pie, and shouted : "Down
on your knees, every one of you, and pray that they've
had their dinner ! "

But it was all to no purpose ; and though some of
us were selfish enough to wish that we had dined just
half an hour sooner, we had at least the satisfaction
of seeing our precious pie eaten with great gusto and
warmly praised by our friends, though Winnie said
she never realized so sadly before the truth of the
old proverb, " There's many a slip twixt the pie and
the lip."

This was the last of our holidays, for next morning
father said we could commence scrubbing out some
of the rooms in the new house. So, after breakfast,
Bet and I went over there with our pails and brushes
prepared for a good day's work. The floors, we
found, were in a terrible state with mortar and lime.
Dear reader, has it ever been your lot, your miser-
able lot, I may say, to scrub out a new house which
the plasterers have just left ? If so, I am sure of your
sympathy. We carried pails of water innumerable ;

THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE. 109

we scratched and we scraped, we soaked and we
scrubbed, and still we couldn't get them clean. They
did not look so bad when just finished, but when
they were dry they seemed to suffer a relapse and an
eruption of mortar again appeared on the surface,
causing us sadly to conclude we would have to go
over it once more.

However, all things come to an end, and we got
through the ground floor at last and were com-
mencing on the bedrooms, when, to our dismay,
a party of four young men arrived by the evening
boat and said they had heard we were ready for
boarders and had come to stay. We hardly knew
what to do. We did not like to send them away,
and there was no means of getting them away till the
next day. The worst feature of the case was that we
had no mattresses, bedsteads, or bedding. These
things had been ordered in Toronto, but had not yet
arrived.

We explained this to our visitors, but they made
light of the difficulty and seemed to have thoroughly
made up their minds to stay where they were. So,
after we had given them some supper and they had
gone for a row on the lake, we held a rapid council of
war as to ways and means of sleeping accommo-
dation, which was our most serious trouble. At last
we came to the conclusion that our best plan would
be to give up the shanty to the young men and
migrate ourselves to the new house, with all the old

110 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

clothes, coats and rugs we could muster, to make up
a shake-down on the floor. Fortunately, we had an
old lounge, and with this we could make a fairly
comfortable bed for father, so we at once proceeded
to carry it over. Our new boarders no sooner saw
us with our burden than they came to our assistance,
so we explained to them the arrangement we had
made and they expressed themselves as quite satisfied.
After making up the beds for them in the shanty
and fixing it up as comfortably as we could, we
returned to the new house. Father and his lounge
we arranged for in the large parlor, which we had
scrubbed, but Bet and I had to retire to one of the
upstairs rooms with its thickly mortared floor — I
believe there was nearly as much mortar on the floor
as on the walls, only not quite so evenly distributed.
Well, on this lumpy, gritty floor poor Bet and I had
to rest our weary bones, and try to seek a night's
repose. We spread out the various articles of cloth-
ing we had secured, patted them into shape, divested
ourselves of our garments, covered ourselves with an
old table cover and — "sought our pillows," I was
going to say, and upon mature consideration I think
that is the exact term to use — sought our pillows,
but no pillows did we find. Bet rolled up a piece of
carpet into a miserable substitute, but the wretched
make-believe hastened to escape from us on the first
opportunity, and after I did get to sleep I awoke
with a fearful nightmare. One of the new arrivals

THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE. Ill

had suddenly gone mad and was cutting off my
right ear with a carving-knife. I awoke in a great
sweat to find the side of my head resting on a hard
knot of mortar, and my ear had a sharp attack of
cramp in consequence. However, morning dawned
at last, and we felt not the slightest inclination to
be lie-a-beds.

How fervently we kept wishing all the next day
that the mattresses, etc., would come by the evening
boat, but we were doomed to disappointment. People
in Muskoka, I find, are used to disappointments of
this kind on the boat's part, they get hardened to it.

However, the boat brought us something we did
not expect, and that was our dear old Sue. We
could hardly believe our eyes when we saw her bonny
rosy face smiling down at us from the deck of the
steamer. How we hugged and kissed her when she
stepped ashore and told us she had come to our
assistance for a couple of weeks. We seized her
parcels and bag, and, as we walked beside her to the
house, plied her with questions about mother and
everybody else in Toronto. Father was as delighted
as we were when he saw her, and, of course, as soon
as tea was over, we took her to inspect the new house.
How large and imposing it looked to our fond eyes
as we gazed upon it ! Never was such a house
before nor since !

There was one small drawback to our happiness
that evening, that is, to mine and Bet's. Our hearts

112 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

sank when we thought of introducing Sue to our
sleeping apartment ; .but as bedtime drew near there
was no alternative, and we were forced to reveal to
poor Sue the dreadful condition of things, so far as
bed and bedding were concerned. Bet had tried her
best to make the shake-down a little wider, so that it
would accommodate three. She had hunted up
another bundle of old clothes and added them to the
conglomeration. I was condemned to sleep in the
middle. I beg your pardon, did I say sleep? That
was wrong, for it was mighty little sleeping I did that
night. I think I dozed off once towards morning, for
I remember when I opened my eyes in the faint light
of the early dawn I saw poor Sue sitting up em-
bracing her knees and trying to cover her poor cold
feet with her nightgown. I believe she even shed a
few tears and murmured, " I left my happy home for
this." But we gathered up the unfortunate bed,
which had dispersed in every direction, and tucked
her up and comforted her the best we could. Still
we were all glad when it was time to arise. This
was our last night of misery, though, for the next
day the mattresses arrived, and our troubles on this
score were, happily, a thing of the past.

The cleaning now proceeded at a rapid rate, for,
including Sue, there were three of us to work. The
visitors began to arrive at a rapid rate, too. As soon
as a bedroom was cleaned and made ready it was
occupied by some new arrival, and every day we

THE BIG BOARDING-HOUSE. 113

dragged our mattresses into another mortary room,
till the whole of them, thank goodness, were finished
at last. I believe we slept by turns in every room in
the house, and as it was before they had undergone
the cleansing process you can imagine we had enough
of mortar and lime to last us the rest of our lives.

Now, you will want to know something of our first
boarders, but I think I will leave this till the next
chapter.

CHAPTER X.

OUR SUMMER BOARDERS.

" Loose-haired, bare-footed, hand-in-hand,
Young girls went tripping down the sand ;
And youths and maidens sitting in the moon
Dreamed o'er the old fond dream, from which we wake

too soon."

— Whittier.

THE four young men I mentioned in my last
chapter as being our first boarders had turned
out to be very pleasant, and gave us very little
trouble. The next visitors to arrive were an elderly
gentleman, his young wife, and the wife's sister. The
young wife was a pretty nonentity, but the sister was of
a different stamp ; she was tall, dark, and rather mas-
culine looking, with a suspicion of a moustache ; con-
siderably older than her married sister. I soon found
out she had an unpleasant habit of setting everybody
down whenever she got the chance, which made me
suspicious that she must be a school-ma'am. I felt
sure she was ; there is something about a school-
ma'am everybody recognizes. I think they are so
used to looking for faults in their scholars, and cor-
recting them, that they are a little too apt to treat the
people they meet in society in the same summary

114

OUR SUMMER BOARDERS. 115

fashion. They all seem " to the manner born," as it
were. This sister was the real " boss " of the party,
though, of course, the old gent imagined himself to be;
but he was a mere puppet in the hands of his wife,
who was ditto in the hands of the strong-minded
sister. The old gentleman's name was Furness, the
sister's Miss Nora Pole. I remember laughing at the
signature at the end of the letter which she wrote
announcing their arrival, " Yours truly, N. Pole." I
told Bet she ought to have put " yours frigidly " ; it
would have been more appropriate for the " North
Pole " — and ever after, between ourselves, we called
her by that name.

Next to arrive were two maiden ladies, the Misses
Stitchins, with their pet dog Fido, whom they would
have liked to bring to the table with them at every
meal, but this being objected to by the other guests,
one sister always remained with the darling creature
till the other one had finished her meal, as he really
could not be left alone ; " he would break his heart."

Bet did the cooking and took charge of the kitchen.
She was a fine cook, I can tell you ; as in everything
else she was on the top of the tree. I did the upstairs
work and waited on table. The guests breakfasted
between eight and nine in the morning, and for about
an hour I was kept on the run, as they came down
one after another. Mr. Furness gave more trouble at
the table than any of the others. He had a peculiar-
ity which was very irritating to me — he wanted every-

116 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

thing he saw. We had not advanced so far as to
have bills of fare at present, so I used to repeat the
menu in an undertone to each guest as I took their
order — beefsteak, cold ham, fried ham, eggs, fish, or
whatever we might have. The old gent sat at the
head of the table, and was always first at his post.
At the sound of the bell he made a bee-line in double-
quick time to his place. After he had made his
choice and been served I would go to some of the
others, but no sooner did he hear the next order given
than he would call out, " I will take some of that,
too," and so on, all round.

Perhaps one of the Misses Stitchins would say, f! I
will take a hard-boiled egg " ; the other sister, " I will
try a poached egg on toast." A loud voice from the
end of the table would call out, " I will take a hard-
boiled egg and a poached egg on toast."

Or perhaps one of the boarders would say, " Have
you any marmalade ? I don't think I will take any
meat this morning." Like an echo came from Mr.
Furness the request for the same. Finally, he would
be literally surrounded with small dishes and plates.
I confess my patience would give out towards the last,
and some of the plates would be put down in front of
him with rather a sounding whack ! Nothing seemed
to disturb him, though, and he helped himself to the
choice tid-bits off every dish, his wife and the "North
Pole," who flanked him on either side, evidently tickled

OUR SUMMER BOARDERS.

117

to think he was getting the full value of his board
money. The Misses Stitchins, though, regarded him
with eyes of horror and disgust. The young men
joked sotto voce amongst themselves ; it was great fun
for them.

I remember once just such another gourmand as
Mr. Furness. It was on board ship. They say " a
person's true nature is shown when travelling." He
sat opposite to me at table and acted in much the
same way as our boarder. He seemed to be on the
constant watch to see that no one got ahead of him.

One day I was late at lunch and the baked apples
were all gone. My steward on discovering this
brought me a nice orange on a plate, saying as
he set it in front of me, " The apples are all gone, so
I asked the head steward for an orange." I thanked
him ; but looking across the table saw the eyes of
the gentleman opposite fixed with a hungry glare
on my poor orange. " Waiter," he called to his
own steward, "bring me an orange." The steward
started, and glancing across at us, met, I suppose, the
eye of his fellow-waiter behind my chair, for I dis-
tinctly saw the wink. He went out into the passage
(I'm sure he went no farther), and returned in about
a minute, saying, " The fruit is all locked up, sir, and
the head steward can't be found with the keys, but
there'll be oranges on the table at dinner, sir." So
" His Greediness " got fooled ; and as everybody's
attention seemed to be drawn to my orange I picked
8

118 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

it up and retired to the privacy of my own cabin to
eat it. Don't you think this gentleman and Mr.
Furness must have been kindred spirits ? What
would have happened, think you, if they had been
caged up together with a limited supply of food ? It
is hard to say. I think it would have been a case of
" the survival of the fittest."

But to return to our boarders. Mr. Furness hired
a boat, and they spent a great part of the time on the
water. The Misses Stitchins spent most of their
time on the verandah busily engaged with squares of
coarse linen, needles and bunches of washing silks,
with which they were patiently producing hideous
monstrosities in the way of flowers, birds and butter-
flies, holding them up for each other's admiration
when there was, unfortunately, no one else near
enough to admire. Notwithstanding, they were dear
old souls, and gave us less trouble than any of the
rest. They took their dip in the lake every morning
regularly at eleven, wearing oil-skin caps to avoid
wetting their hair ; wet towels inside the caps to avoid
sunstroke ; long-sleeved bathing dresses to avoid sun-
burn ; canvas bathing shoes to avoid mud-turtles ;
and very pretty they looked, I assure you, as they
disported themselves with modest mien in the cooling
waters of the lake. Dear me ! what a shock it would
be to them if they saw the young folks bathing now-
a-days — girls with bare arms and legs taking headers
from the wharf, turning a somersault in the air before

OUR SUMMER BOARDERS. .119

they touched the water ; young men in still scantier
attire gazing admiringly at them, and then all splash-
ing and dashing together in the water like a shoal of
porpoises. I verily believe that if the Misses Stitchins
could have seen such a sight, the oil-skin caps, wet
towels included, would have risen from their heads in
horror; they would hardly have survived such a
scene.

The next boarder to arrive at Hatha way's Bay
was a tall ascetic-looking High Church clergyman,
with shaven face, high collar, very straight vest and
clerical coat. He entered his name as the Rev.
Theophilus Monk, M.A., D.D. — mad with a double
D, as Winnie said, looking over my shoulder at the
entry. He spoke with the " lovely drawl " so much
admired by the " ritualistic school of oratory." You
know what it sounds like, " He that hath yaws to yaw
let him yaw " — that kind of style, which to me is so
unnatural. We overheard him telling father, while
sitting on the verandah on the evening of his arrival,
he was suffering from insomnia and dyspepsia
brought on by overstudy and too rigid lenten abstin-
ence, and though very sorry to leave his flock, whom
he was guiding gently back to the "faith of their
fathers," he had been informed by his medical
advisers that he must really go into retreat for a few
months and endeavor to " recuperate his physique."
This last phrase tickled our fancy very much, has in
fact remained with us as a family saying to this day,

120 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

and no one of us can ever look pale, sick or weary,
without being immediately told by another member
of the family to " Go and recuperate your physique."

Miss Pole had been doing a little deft angling on
her own account with our four nice young boarders,
but so far without securing a single bite, and to-mor-
row they were leaving us ; but her face brightened
when she saw the Rev. Monk. Here was another
fish she could possibly hook. She commenced her
angling next morning at breakfast — it happened to
be Friday. " What ! no fish ? " she began, " and this
Friday," glancing round and speaking loud enough to
let the reverend gentleman hear. " I suppose then I
am reduced to eggs for breakfast. But I do hope,
Miss Hathaway, that there will be fish for dinner, or I
don't know what I shall do. You know I never eat
meat on Fridays." I knew nothing of the sort, but I
discreetly held my peace and went for the eggs.
Before two days were over, however, I saw "my
lady " being paddled around the bay in Mr. Monk's
canoe, which he had hired to assist in the " recupera-
tion." Ah! I thought to myself, you are doing
well, Miss Pole, provided you don't strike the rock
of "clerical celibacy"; that would be a disastrous
ending to your " fishing excursion."

This morning our pleasant quartette of young men
bade us " good-bye," much to our regret. They left us
with many good wishes for our success and promises
to visit us again. We felt quite low spirited as we

OUR SUMMER BOARDERS. 121

saw them depart waving their handkerchiefs to us till
the boat carried them out of our sight.

My time, too, had nearly come to an end — as all
things do in this world — and though I was loath to
depart, " necessity knew no choice." Bet had secured
the services of a nice young girl, a settler's daughter,
to take my place for the few remaining weeks of the
season. I will only be able to tell you, therefore, of
one more arrival and then close this chapter.

Two days before my departure the weather turned
very wet and stormy — there was a regular "Muskoka
soaker," for when it does rain here it comes down with
a will; it is a case of "water, water, everywhere;"
the verandahs are streaming, the summer kitchen
leaking, the guests grumbling, the children tumbling
(excuse the rhyme, it was not intentional). Altogether
such days as this of continued downpour in the sum-
mer season are one of the hardest things the boarding-
house-keeper has to contend with. All the guests
look like fish out of water, as they literally are for the
nonce — that is if they have sense enough to keep
indoors ; but they don't appear to know what to do
with themselves. They hang around, yawning and
looking first at the sky and then at the weather
glass, and are generally miserable. Thank goodness,
such days are the exception in Muskoka.

Well, that evening it was coming down like cats
and dogs when the boat came in. No one went
down to the wharf except father, but Bet, who was

122 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

watching from the staircase window, called out to me,
" Nan, here's a whole family coming, all dripping wet,
babies and children, too." So it proved. In they
trooped, escorted by father, with all their belongings,
the water dripping from their clothes in little streams,
and the most comical part was that they had brought
a tent with them, intending to put it up and sleep
under it that night. Evidently they had not bar-
gained with the weather prophet, and father informed
them, unless they were anxious to be drowned, they
had better stick to the house till the weather broke.
Their name was Merryweather and they had come
all the way from Chicago.

As we got talking we discovered that he was an
American, a lawyer, and she an English girl, a gov-
erness who had come out to Chicago with an English
family and met her fate there in the shape of plump
little Mr. Merryweather. They had been married
five years and there were now three little Merry-
weathers. She told us they had lived these five years
in a Chicago flat and had never until now been away
from the city for a holiday. Her children had never
even seen the country, and, therefore, they wanted to
get as far away from civilization as possible and just
live out of doors. " I mean to take off the children's
shoes and stockings," she said, "and let them run
about barefoot, and paddle in the water, if it is safe,"
looking anxiously at us. We assured her on that
point, and the faces of the two eldest children, who

OUR SUMMER BOARDERS. 123

were eagerly listening as they clung to their mother's
skirt, instantly assumed a look of rapture as they
thought of the bliss awaiting them on the morrow.
The eldest little fellow even wanted to go to bed
without his supper, thinking the morning would come
sooner. When the morning did dawn it was sunny
and bright, and in Muskoka, no matter how much
rain may fall, when it ceases everything dries up like
magic and all is bright again.

This was my last day here, and when all nature
was looking so beautiful and fresh the thought of
leaving seemed worse than ever. I believe I had a
very woe-begone face as 1 went about my work, and
Bet bore me company in my depression.

The little Merryweathers were racing round soon
after daybreak. I don't think their father and mother
got much rest after about four o'clock. Everything
was a novelty to the children, and they were like
little crazy things. When Ben went out to milk the
cows, the eldest boy followed. He stood in the door-
way and watched the first cow milked, with a most
astonished face, and then returned to the house to
interview his mother. " Is that where the milk comes
from? Well, don't put any on my porridge never,
never, no more."

There was worse to follow, though, for the little
man, after breakfast, was pursuing his investigations
around the back premises when he came upon
the old sow, stretched in the sun, with her youth-

124 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

ful progeny actively imbibing their morning meal.
He stood gazing at them horrified for a moment,
then turned and fled to the house, bursting in
upon his mother with the tears streaming down
his face, — " Oh mommer ! mommer ! " clutching her
frantically by the skirts, " its awful dreadful ! Mr.
Hathaway 's little pigs are starving, just starving,"
then, in a horror-stricken tone, almost a whisper,
" Why, they're actually eating their mother ! ! ! "

Poor child ! So much for being brought up in a
Chicago flat.

Bet told me in her letters, after I got home, that
the Merryweathers gave up the idea of living in the
tent and stayed on with them for more than a month.
They were altogether so charmed with Muskoka that
they made up their minds, as soon as they could
afford it, to put up a summer cottage for themselves,
and come every year.

I might as well tell you, also, that the " North
Pole " did succeed in landing the Monk, and that two
or three years later they paid another visit to Hatha-
way's Bay, plus a nursemaid and a sturdy young
Monk.

CHAPTER XL
THE PICNIC TO CLIFF ROCK.

" Hence we may learn

That though it be a grand and comely thing
To be unhappy (and we think it is,
Because so many grand and clever folk
Have found out reasons for unhappiness)
. . . Yet since we are not grand —
O, not at all, and as for cleverness
That may or may not be — it is well
For us to be as happy as we can ! "

— -Jean Ingelow.

THE following spring mother removed from
Toronto to her home in Muskoka, and by this
time things were in better shape at the new
boarding-house, and in consequence they did a much
larger business during the season. In fact, for a short
time the house was fairly packed with visitors. Camp-
beds, sofas, and even the parlor floor, were used for
sleeping accommodation. Those were the days when
people visiting Muskoka were thankful for small
mercies and did not look to find all the comforts and
conveniences of the large city hotels in this new
country. At the close of this successful season
mother conceived the idea of inviting a party of her

125

126 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Toronto friends to spend a few days and see the
beauties of the Muskoka lakes. It was the beginning
of September, and I always think September is the
ideal month for Muskoka ; it is not too hot, there are
no mosquitoes to bother one as in the spring, and the
foliage is just beginning to assume its lovely fall tints.

These little September parties were repeated, year
after year, so long as my dear, hospitable mother
lived. I believe they were the most enjoyable times
of her life. What delight she took in showing the
new comers around her domains, in calling upon
them to admire all the changing beauties of lake and
sky and shore. Of course, she liked to have all
her children there, if possible, and as time rolled on,
many small grandchildren were added to these annual
gatherings.

Then the dear grandmother had something more
to expatiate upon, as well as the beauties of the land-
scape, namely the bright eyes and rosy cheeks of her
children's children ; and no one could wax more elo-
quent than she on this exhaustless theme. What
better can we wish for these dear children than that
the good wishes and earnest prayers of their dear
grandmother on their behalf may in the future be
fulfilled?

Perhaps the first of these September parties is im-
pressed most distinctly on my mind, because I was,
in a way, the chaperon of the band. I think there
were about fifteen invited, and we met that Monday

THE PICNIC TO CLIFF ROCK. 127

morning at the little station behind the Market. It
was then I discovered that, strange to say, not one of
the crowd, except myself, had ever seen Muskoka ; so
fancy my delight in acting as guide into such a fairy-
land. Our minister and his wife and daughter were
amongst the party. We were all in a very happy
mood, bent on enjoyment, and in full expectation
of a good time. By the time we got to Allandale
we were beginning to feel hungry, so reached out
the lunch baskets and, with sandwiches, cake and
fruit, had a nice little picnic on the cars. We could not
induce the minister, however, to take anything, for I
had informed them all of the nice dinner we would
get on the boat as soon as we arrived at Muskoka
Wharf, and he said, while pacing up and down the
length of the car, " I am not going to spoil my appe-
tite for that fine dinner Miss Hathaway has been
telling us of by eating now, don't you think it"; and
he said it so emphatically that he made a convert of
another gentleman of the party, who also refused to
touch or taste. We remarked, though, that they both
began to look very hungry and anxious before we
reached Gravenhurst, and here the joke came in.
When we reached the wharf we found only a small
steamer awaiting us instead of the Nipissing that
we expected ; and, on enquiry, we found the Nipis-
sing had been burned a few days before — a great
misfortune, especially to us just then, for there was
no dinner, no dining-room, and we would have to

128 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

transfer to another boat at Port Carling, making it
very late before we would reach our destination. Our
smiles and laughter were changed to looks of dismay
as we received this unpleasant information. Even
we, who had helped to empty the lunch-baskets, were
feeling hungry again ; what then must have been the
feelings of the two who had so rigidly abstained ?
When we got on board and knew the worst, namely,
that there were no provisions to be got, we bewailed
our fate to each other for awhile, then tightened our
belts, sat down, and tried to forget we were hungry-
But, as the poet remarks, " a change had come o'er
the spirit of the dream," and we felt we had hardly
energy enough to admire the beautiful scenery
through which we were passing. After a time an
idea crossed my mind, but I kept it to myself for
fear of further disappointment.

Surely the men who worked the boat must eat, like-
wise they must drink. Then there might possibly be
tea on board. I was just longing for a cup of tea, and
the day was warm. I slipped away to see what I
could do. I climbed down a narrow stair leading to
the engine-room, and then peeped through a square
hole in the partition. Goodness ! what did I behold ?
There sat the minister and his friend, side by side, on
a little shelf, a board in front of them serving as
a table. They each had a big bone in their hands
and were gnawing away for all they were worth, the
perspiration streaming off their faces with the heat of

THE PICNIC TO CLIFF ROCK. 129

the little place they were in. It appears my " happy
thought " had struck them also, but somewhat earlier,
and they had stolen to this spot quietly and secretly,
where they found a big pot, with the remains of a
stewed shin of beef, which they had appropriated and
proceeded to enjoy. When one of the boat hands
appeared on the scene, they used bribery and corrup-
tion to obtain, in addition to the beef bones, a supply
of bread and a kettle of tea. Their consternation was
great when they saw my face gazing in at them, for
they thought the whole party were at my heels. I
revenged myself for their duplicity by bearing off the
kettle of tea. There were only two cups on board,
though, so we drank it out of all the odd tins and
pans the men could hunt up for us. The scene was
so comical, when the crowd were all swallowing the
hot tea out of such odd drinking vessels (I think
even the frying-pan was pressed into the service), that
we forgot, amidst the laughter and fun, the loss of
our dinner, and good-humor and contentment were
happily restored.

It was nearing sunset as we came round the bend
of the river in view of Port Carling. We were all
crowded in front of the little steamer, awaiting the
first glimpse of the place, and as we drew nearer we
saw my dear mother and sisters, who had come thus
far to meet us, standing together on the wharf. Our
minister was the first to see them, and, taking off his
hat and waving it in the air, shouted, " There's the

130 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

mother," and then, as if to give vent to his feelings,
started singing,

" We've reached the land of corn and wine,"

in which one after another joined, until we arrived at
the wharf, amidst a full chorus of — .

" Oh, Beulah land,

Sweet Beulah land,
As on thy highest mount I stand."

Ah me ! when we look back on those happy scenes
of by-gone days, no wonder that our hearts are full
of tender memories, and that, still quoting from the
same verse,

" I look away across the sea,
Where mansions are prepared for me,
And view the shining glory shore,
My heav'n, my home for evermore."

After we had all received a loving greeting and
hearty welcome from my mother, we hastened to
crowd into the little boat which was to carry us up
Lake Joseph. The evening was a lovely one, the
sunset something indescribable, and our friends were
charmed with each fresh view as our little boat puffed
along its winding course. By the time we reached
Hathaway 's Bay it was nearly dark. Here my father
received us, and one of the party called out to him,
" Here are your unprofitable boarders, Mr. Hathaway."

THE PICNIC TO CLIFF ROCK. 131

I can safely say a more hungry crowd never set foot
in his house. How we cleared those tables ! Every-
thing seemed so good, it was hard indeed to stop
eating. "Oh! this home-baked bread," "Oh! this
fresh butter," and such-like exclamations from all the
party, as they indulged in another and yet another
slice, until we lay back in our chairs exhausted.

Of course, after such a supper we went to bed and
slept like tops. Where does anyone sleep like they
do in Muskoka ? There might be a narcotic in the air,
from the effect it has upon a stranger. For the first
two or three days you feel like nodding all the time,
except when you are eating ; as soon as you sit
down, or lie down, you are soothed off into slumber-
land before you know it. Of course this effect soon
passes away or it would be serious for the dwellers
in the land. Work would remain at a standstill if
this drowsiness became chronic.

The days of our holiday, however, passed so quickly
that we did our best to keep wide awake and enjoy
everything we could. One day my father and mother
got a small steamer and took some of the party to
Bala for a day's fishing. There were still a few of
the summer boarders in the house, amongst them
a Dr. Carrington from New York, with his wife.
She was a gigantic woman, not only immensely
stout, but tall in proportion. When I first saw her I
was thunderstruck, and said to mother, "Is that Bar-
num's fat woman out for a holiday ? She must have

132 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

been sent here to ' recuperate her physique.' " Her
hair, which was gray, she wore frizzed and combed
out, till it made her head appear enormous, and she
was profusely ornamented with chains, rings and
bracelets, the two latter kinds of adornments being
nearly buried in rolls of fat. When she entered the
dining-room, gorgeously apparelled, sailing along, her
husband invisible in the rear, every eye would follow
her as she moved slowly and majestically to her seat.
We had two stout ladies in our party, but they sank
into utter insignificance and looked like infants be-
side Mrs. Carrington. With all her magnificence she
proved to be very agreeable, and we all soon got very
friendly with her.

Now, my mother was very anxious to show her
friends around Lake Joseph before their return, so we
planned a picnic to Cliff Rock, making a tour of the
lake in the first place and landing there for dinner.
Everyone in the house was to go, so, of course,
we had to invite Mrs. Carrington, but how to get
her there was the question. Mr. Roberts, my
brother-in-law, said it would not be safe to put her
in the little steamer, as, if she moved to one side or
leaned over, she would upset it ; besides the boat was
too small to carry the whole of our party. So he
arranged to get a barge, and the small steamboat
would tow us. In the very centre of the barge he
planted Mrs. Carrington's chair. I forgot to tell you
she brought her own chair, ours were not comfortable

THE PICNIC TO CLIFF ROCK. 133

for her, and so frail. In this chair was seated Mrs.
Carrington ; then two large rocking-chairs, one in
front of her and one behind, accommodated the other
two stout ladies. They were thus planted in a row
down the centre of the barge, and, with such good
ballast to steady us, we ordinary-sized mortals were
allowed to disperse ourselves around as we pleased.

We arranged to proceed slowly, calling at two or
three places where fish were reported to be plentiful,
so that the fishermen of our party might secure
enough for our dinner. We had a boat in tow, and
in this they went ashore at the different places. They
had very good luck in fishing, too, so that we had a
fine stock on board by noon, when we arrived at Cliff
Rock, where we landed and prepared our dinner. We
did not attempt to land Mrs. Carrington, though ; her
dinner was carried to her on the barge. Bet was
cook, the young ones gathered the sticks and lit the
fire, the kettle was slung on, and the big frying-pan
brought out for the fish. Mother and Sue sliced up
the cucumbers, Winnie laid the cloth, and I sat down
at a little distance off to make a sketch of the rock ;
I had brought my paint-box for the purpose. The
day was perfect, the water calm and the reflections
lovely, so it was a pleasant task. As I was busily
working I heard someone calling my name, as if from
the sky, and on looking up I saw two of the party,
our old friends Mr. and Mrs. Francis, who had gone
round through the woods and climbed to the very
9

134 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

top of the rock, and were now gazing down on us. I
shouted up to them to keep still and I would put
them in the picture. I have the little sketch yet,
though many of those who were first and foremost in
the fun that day have bidden a last farewell to the
fair scenes of this earth.

Has it never struck you with a kind of strange
mockery, when accidentally you came across little
trifles which were associated with bygone days and
those you have loved and lost, how strange it is that
these unimportant things, of no value whatever,
remain unchanged, while our dearest and best, so
infinitely more precious, have vanished from our
sight ?

But my moralizings are brought to a sudden stop by
a most frightful din. Bet is beating a tin tray vigor-
ously with a stick, to announce that dinner is ready,
and the wanderers are flocking in from all directions,
so I put away my work and join the crowd. I
don't believe one ever knows how good fish can taste
till they eat it in Muskoka, freshly caught, fried crisp
and brown — a veritable feast for the gods !

I won't tell you how many fish we ate that day,
you might not believe me ; enough to say, we all ate
our fill and were satisfied. Soon after three o'clock,
Mr. Roberts announced that the wind was changing,
and it was likely to be rough on the lake, so we had
better prepare for our return.

We had great fun in the embarkation, for all the

LETTO AND TOM.

THE PICNIC TO CLIFF ROCK. 135

ladies who had been wandering in the woods returned
with such loads of treasures — moss, ferns, birch bark,
fungi, and such like — that it was quite a job getting
all the stuff stowed away on board to the satisfaction
of the fair owners. At last, however, we were ready,
the " stout ladies " all in position, and once more we
were on the move. Winnie put me in charge of my
two little nephews, Letto and Tom, who were very
anxious to fish over the edge of the barge. They had
pieces of string tied to sticks, with crooked pins for
hooks. It was hard work holding on to them both,
and I was getting a little tired, when one of the gen-
tlemen of the party, who had been fishing and was
sitting next to Letto, signed to me to turn the chil-
dren's attention in another direction for a moment,
and meanwhile he slipped a good-sized fish from his
basket on to the crooked pin at the end of Letto's
line, then let it quietly drop into the water. As soon
as the child turned round he cried out, " Oh, my !
Letto ! look at the fish on your hook," and helped
the delighted youngster to pull it up. What an
excitement ensued. The children were wild with
delight ; they tore across the barge to their mother,
then to their father, and everyone else in succession.
They hugged that precious fish, and mauled it, they
patted and pulled it, they nursed it by turns ; pressing
it fondly to their hearts, they would not part with it,
and even wanted to take it to bed with them, so
Winnie said, and they smelled fishy for days after.

136 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Letto has never forgotten that fish and never will, if
he lives for a century.

The wind blew very strong, as Mr. Roberts foretold,
before we reached home, and the barge bobbed up
and down in fine style. Mrs. Francis lost her hat, a
sudden gust carrying it far away over the water. Sue's
husband, who was, as I told you, the smart man of the
family, sprang to the rescue, jumped into the boat
and was after it like a flash. We could see him
making straight for the little black speck in the dis-
tance, and in a few minutes he returned triumphant
bearing the hat, a sorry-looking article surely, feathers
and lace all dripping ; but the good-natured owner
took it all in good part, and tying a handkerchief
over her head, said it didn't matter much, for she
hadn't been so foolish as to come to a picnic in her
best hat. We were soon safely back at Hathaway 's
Bay and the ladies busy landing their treasures from
the woods. Thus ended one of the happiest days of
our lives.

CHAPTER XII.
THE OLD MAID'S LODGE.

" Dear hearts are here, dear hearts are there,

Alike below, above ;
Our friends are now in either world,
And love is sure of love."

— Whittier.

THE principal idea I had in writing these stories
of Muskoka was to contrast the Muskoka of
twenty-five or thirty years ago with the Muskoka
of the present day, and by so doing enable you to
judge of its rapid growth and of the great changes
which have taken place in that time. I will, there-
fore, now pass over a period of fifteen or sixteen
years and bring you with a jump to the spring of
1902.

It will be necessary, in the first place, to give you
a brief summary of the intervening events, especially
as regards ourselves, for these years have not passed
without many changes, and sad ones, in the Hatha-
way family. Our beloved father and mother have
left us, though the memory of their love and the
influence they wield in our midst grows only stronger
as time rolls on. As the poet so truthfully says :

137

138 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

" God calls our loved ones, but we lose not wholly

What He hath given ;

They live on earth, in word and deed, as truly
As in God's heaven."

Our band of brothers and sisters is still unbroken.
My father's last wish was that we should remain
united and happy while we lived on earth, that no
division should ever enter our loving circle until,
reunited by death, we should once more become " one
family in heaven," where partings are unknown.

My brothers and sisters are now each one the head
of a family ; even I, myself, the old maiden auntie,
have at last realized the dream of my life and am
the happy possessor of a comfortable and cosy home
of my own in this country I love. •

We are all living in Muskoka now, with the excep-
tion of Sue, and we are doing our best to coax her to
come to us. I believe we shall succeed before many
years pass over our heads. Ben and his wife have a
family of five daughters and a son, and Winnie has a
family of five sons and a daughter, which evens things
up nicely.

My house is near to them, and the young folks of
both families are my constant visitors. From my
bedroom window, when I go to my bed at night, I
can see the lights at Winnie's, twinkling like stars, so
I never feel lonely. I will spare you the details of
how my little abode was planned and thought over
for years — for anticipation has blossomed into reali-

THE OLD MAID'S LODGE. 139

zation — it is really built, and I am really living in it,
and if God wills I mean to live in it for the remainder
of my mortal life.

I must tell you that I met with some opposition
when I decided to make Muskoka my home. Friends
in Toronto felt sure I should never like it up here in
the winter. They said, " Oh, it's all very well in the
summer, but just wait till the cold weather." Well, I
waited, and my first winter is a thing of the past, and
I can truthfully say I never, in all the winters I have
spent in Canada, felt the cold so little. I have worn
no extra clothing, indeed I rarely put a hat on my
head except when I go church on Sunday ; a great
saving on the millinery bills you see. I have never
felt better, eaten better, slept better, than since I came
here. Instead of longing to go back to my friends in
Toronto, I am longing for my friends to come to me
in Muskoka.

I won't say any more about the winter, for I mean
to devote a chapter to that presently. It is only fair
you should have Muskoka presented to you fairly, the
hot and the cold sides. So to go back to " my home,"
I have no doubt you will laugh at the name. I owe
it, I believe, to my nephew Tom, my sister Winnie's
second son, whom the other children call " Tom the
Torment," for he delights in teasing. Of this young
gentleman also you will hear more later on. I had
intended to give it a far more romantic name, but it
has been dubbed " Old Maid's Lodge," and the title

140 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

seems to stick, so we will leave it at that. The fact
is certain that the owner is an " old maid " and likely
ever to remain so. I have come to the conclusion
that it is best there should be one old maid in every
family ; for who is there so useful in sickness and
trouble as an " old auntie." Has it not been the
custom of my sisters and sisters-in-law, for long years
past, when anything ails my young nephews and
nieces, to say, " Send for Nan, she will come." And
I leave my animals, chickens, ducks and the rest,
which are all I have, to mother, and go to their
assistance.

A wee niece said to me the other day, as she was
watching me feed some little chicks, " You are just
like a mother to them, Auntie." " Yes," I replied, " I
am a regular ' old hen/ " She said, " If I were a little
chicken, I'd rather have you for a mother than any of
the other old hens." " Thank you, my dear, that
is quite a compliment." But a new idea struck the
little maid, and the next query was not so easily
answered. " Auntie Nan, if you are their mother, I
would like to know who is their father ? " " Well," I
said, " I think you will have to ask Santa Claus, he
might know."

My brother Ben married very young. His wife
was the daughter of a farmer who settled in Muskoka
shortly before my father came here. His daughters
look almost more like his sisters, for he still retains
his youthful look, and to us always seems a boy, HQ

THE OLD MAID'S LODGE. 141

is a general favorite and known far and wide for his
good-nature and love of fun. Everyone likes to hear
his stories and, as he is so well acquainted with every-
body and everything in Muskoka, his house is sel-
dom without visitors, summer or winter. He is our
nearest neighbor, except Winnie, and a little farther
still Bet has her home — so we are growing quite a
colony of Hathaways.

I have my visitors from the city, too, and very nice
I feel it that I can have them in my own home. Of
course, old maids are always welcome here ; that
is, the nice kind. The days are gone by when the
typical old maid was described as a sour, disagreeable
mischief-maker. As the old ditty says : " Pleased to
ruin others' wooing ; never happy in their own."
No, I and my friends belong to the good-natured
class, " who try to be happy, though single," and so
far success has crowned our efforts. My sisters are
the only ones who sometimes bemoan the fact that I
am an old maid. They say I should have made such
a good mother ; even going so far as to nick-name
me "the doting mother," which is an outrageous
name for a spinster, though I think the mother
love is strong in my heart, and many an argument
have I had with Bet and Winnie as to whether it were
not possible for me to love their children as much as
they did. They always came off victorious, of course.
But one thing sure, they must have some faith in my
love for their offspring, for wherever there has been

142 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

a possibility of anything happening to either of them,
the children were always committed to the care of
Auntie Nan ; though, I am thankful to say, such a
contingency has never occurred, and I hope never will.

My brother Joe's farm is distant three or four
miles. He has only two children, my dark-haired
namesake and a son, another Joe, a strong and sturdy
young fellow with an arm that could fell an ox.

Hathaway's Bay has also undergone quite a few
changes in these years. The trees planted by my
dear father and mother are towering nearly to the
roof. Improvements have been made on every side.
Where was once dry, sandy soil is now a verdant
lawn. The apple trees they set are loaded every year
down to the ground with fruit. Nowhere can we turn
without seeing the handiwork of our dear departed
ones. I think it is this which makes the place so
dear to the hearts of their children. We see them in
everything. As Whittier says, in words much more
eloquent than any I can use :

" All lovely things by thee beloved
Shall whisper to our hearts of thee,

The sunset light of autumn eves
Reflecting on the deep still floods,

Cloud, crimson sky and trembling leaves
Of rainbow-tinted woods.

These, in our view, shall henceforth take

A tenderer meaning for your sake ;

And all you loved, of earth and sky,

Seem sacred to your memory.

CHAPTER XIII.
SETTLERS AND TOURISTS.

" Now if anybody wants to feel above me, I look at it in this
light, and philosophize on it this way : 'It probably does them
some good, and it don't do me a mite of harm, so I let 'em feel.
I have always made a practice of it. Because somebody feels
as if they was better nor me — that don't make 'em so ; if it did
I should likely get up more int'rest in the subject, but it don't.
It don't make them a mite better, nor me a mite worse, so I let
'em feel, for what harm does it do anyway.'" — Samantha Allen.

FOR the past few years the population of Muskoka
has been gradually dividing itself into two
classes — tourists and settlers, otherwise capital and
labor, pleasure and toil, butterflies and bees, which-
ever you like to call them. The tourists we may
liken to the butterflies, because they flock in upon us
with the summer sunshine and the flowers. The
hard-working settlers are like the bees, because they
gather their honey with busy toil in the hot sun and
store it away for the cold winter days. Between
these two classes there is a great gulf fixed. It seems
to come naturally to the pleasure-loving tourist to
look down with a kind of pity on the hard-working
settler, and it seems just as natural for the hard-
working settler to look down on the giddy tourist;

143

144 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

and so, I suppose, it will remain to the end of the
chapter. One thing is sure, each class would be very
badly off without the other. If the busy little brown
bees of settlers had not these lovely "tourist blos-
soms" from which they gather their honey, where
would their winter supply come from ? Do they
not obtain it from these lovely American orchids and
roses, these English violets and pansies, these Cana-
dian lilies and daffodils, who come to us under the
bewitching name of " tourist," and whose perfume is
so sweet.

The very name of tourist has a charm in Muskoka ;
even the sunburnt settler children look forward with
delight to the time of their arrival and burst out of
the little schoolhouse singing :

" The tourists are coming, hurrah ! hurrah ! "

Every year that passes seems to bring these tourist
blossoms and butterflies a little earlier, and they
linger later in our midst. This region has so
many charms for them that they are loth to depart
and anxious to return.

It used to be, in years gone by, tourists were
scarce in the early springtime — hardly one to be
found before July. Perhaps it was the "deadly
mosquito" and "fierce black fly" they feared, but
now you may find them as early as May-day, and in
June there is quite a goodly showing. The summer
cottages are opened up, the snowy curtains once

SETTLERS AND TOURISTS. 145

more flutter from the open windows, the flags are
hoisted, the hammocks swung, and everything pro-
claims that summer is here, and once more the
" tourist " has taken possession of the land.

Isn't it wonderful ? I appeal now to any of you
who are in the habit of coming up here year after
year to spend your summers. Isn't it wonderful
how rapidly the houses are increasing on these lakes ?
They appear to be springing up like mushrooms on
every island and point.

You can, as you are lying lazily in your boat out
on the lake, count at least a dozen of them in sight
without raising your head, and if "variety is the spice
of life," Muskoka is well flavored in the matter of
these summer abodes, for there are scarcely two of
them alike. There is an endless variety as regards
shape and size, which should suit every taste, and,
like the mothers at a baby show, each one thinks
their own the prettiest.

Look as you come down the Indian River now,
after passing . Port Carling. Why, the people will
soon be shaking hands with their neighbors across
from their verandahs, and don't the cottages look
pretty as you are gliding past them in the boat, with
their bright-colored flags and awnings, their shady
verandahs, their pretty occupants waving their hand-
kerchiefs as you pass ? And then the quaint Indian
names, in many cases marked out on the rocks so
that everyone can read. Or go at night, when the

146 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

stars are shining and the houses lit up ; every light,
both earthly and heavenly, doubled by its reflection
in the shining water.

What rapture, then, for you, young man, with your
boat drifting slowly along, and the lady you love
facing you in the starlight, her dark eyes looking love
into your own. How many times in the future when
you have returned to the city, and are once more in
your office leaning wearily over your desk, will these
scenes of enchantment arise before your eyes, and you
will heave a sigh at the thought of those past hours
of bliss. Yes, Muskoka in summer-time is a perfect
elysium for lovers. And what an ideal place for the
honeymoon ! I think this latter fact is getting to be
pretty generally known, and happy bridal couples are
no strangers in the land. I have even heard of bridal
chambers reserved for their special use at some of the
larger hotels.

One bride gave me a very laughable account of
her arrival at the Prospect House. She was a
bright, lively girl, a friend of mine, who had married
a widower with one son — a tall young fellow of
seventeen. She was married in Toronto quietly one
morning, but of course got the usual shower of rice
as she entered the carriage to drive to the station.
They went entirely alone to the Muskoka express,
as she was very anxious not to be known as a bride.
She thought she could pass for an old married
woman, and the bridegroom being considerably older

SETTLERS AND TOURISTS. 147

than herself, though a very fine-looking man, she
thought would aid the deception. But how is it and
why, can you tell me, that the secret can never be
kept? Even the porters on the cars, she said, all
looked at them with a peculiar smile. Perhaps it
was their guilty consciences which made them sus-
picious. She said on arriving at the hotel and being
shown to her room she spread out a newspaper on
the floor and, carefully, as she changed her dress*
shook every grain of rice from her clothes, for rice is
a terrible betrayer. Still, when they descended to
the dining-room for supper she noticed there was
quite a flutter of excitement and every face seemed
turned in their direction, making her feel very much
afraid the cat was out of the bag. Nevertheless, she
put on a very straight face and by her manner
endeavored to put them off the scent. The next
morning, after breakfast, as she ran up to her room
for her hat, the chamber-maid who was at work there,
wishing to be friendly, remarked, " Muskoka is a
lovely place for spending the honeymoon, ma'am."
" Honeymoon ! " said my friend, turning on her with
a look of astonishment, " what do you mean ? "
" Why, aren't you a bride, ma'am ? " answered the
girl, rather taken aback. " Bride ! " she replied in a
tone of scorn, " what are you talking about ? " and
then breaking out into a merry laugh, " Why, we have
a son nearly seventeen." At this moment her husband
appeared at the door. " Haven't we a son nearly

148 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

grown up ? " she asked him. " Yes," he said, and the
maid, very much abashed, walked off, saying, " Well,
I must tell them all different downstairs, for everyone
of 'em believes you're only just married."

My friend found out at the next meal that every
spark of interest on the part of these fellow-guests
had vanished, and they were allowed to enjoy the
bliss of becoming objects of perfect indifference to
,the curious crowd.

But to return to the tourists. If you want to judge
in some degree of what the summer exodus from the
city to Muskoka has become, plant yourself any
morning in July, between the hours of ten and
eleven in the waiting-room of the Union Station,
Toronto, and watch the rush of passengers through
the doors as the stentorian voice of " Bob " Harrison
calls out the " Muskoka Express." See the worried,
worn-out mothers who have been up since dawn
preparing children and baggage for their yearly
flight. See them come, dragging along their youthful
progeny, one of whom has the family cat in a basket,
and another is dangling the canary in its cage. See
those gaily-dressed young damsels, giggling and
laughing, laden with lunch baskets, fruit and novels-
There is a pater familias with the tickets for his
family, pushing through the crowd, two of his boys
with fishing-rods and air-guns pressing on behind.
Behold the worm merchant peddling his wares in
little tin pails, at seventy-five cents each, warranted
to contain a hundred, all alive and wriggling. Mus-

SETTLERS AND TOURISTS. 149

koka has fostered a new industry, you see. There is
an invalid, sad-looking and pale, bound for the Sani-
tarium. May she find health and strength there.
Here is a little fellow, with sand pail and shovel,
crying because he has loosed from his mother's gown
in the crush. Ah ! here she is, red and perspiring,
returning to look for him, so "dry your eyes, my
little man." Here's a party of young dudes carrying
valises, which I doubt not are stuffed full of fancy
striped coats and white duck pants, with which, when
donned, they intend making sad havoc amongst the
summer girls on the lakes.

Let us follow the crowd downstairs and see the
piles of baggage being loaded on the cars — cases of
provisions, blankets and bedding, trunks, valises,
boilers, tubs, pails, cradles, perambulators, every mor-
tal thing you could think of — all bound for the " Mus-
koka Express."

Among these tourists the American element is
getting more and more predominant every year ; the
Stars and Stripes is everywhere to be seen. Through
trains from Buffalo and Niagara are now run every
day during the season to Muskoka Wharf, from
whence the pleasure-seekers diverge on their varied
routes. Large numbers of Americans, too, are buying
islands and land here and putting up houses for
themselves and families, where they can entertain
their friends and spend the summer months in true
country fashion. These Americans, so far as I can
10

150 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

ascertain, are well liked by our settlers. They give em-
ployment to great numbers of them, are liberal with
their money, straightforward in their dealings, and
pleasant and unaffected in their manners. Many of
them come from the Southern States in order to escape
the intense heat of July and August, and they declare
Muskoka to be a perfect paradise of coolness and
refreshment ; not that we don't have hot days here,
very hot days, but the evenings are invariably cool
and pleasant.

I think the Grand Trunk Railway has done a great
deal during the last few years to advertise this district
in the States, and we are now beginning to reap the
benefit of their efforts, and will more so, I think, in
years to come.

It is a pretty sight when the " Muskoka Express "
runs down to the wharf and disgorges herself of her
living freight, to see, once more, the stately Medora,
dear to the heart of every dweller in Lake Joseph, the
Nipissing, the Islander, the Kenozha, all waiting
patiently for our advent, besides half a dozen or
more private steam yachts (the number of these is
fast increasing, and some of them are very handsome
and beautifully fitted up) ; and then the lake, so darkly?
deeply blue, the bright sky overhead, the fresh pure
air we inhale, all seem to combine to raise our spirits
to the highest pitch, and we crowd into the dining-
room when we hear the welcome sound of the dinner-
bell, and sit down with light hearts and happy faces

SETTLERS AND TOURISTS. 151

to enjoy the bountiful repast. I am afraid you will
think I am always talking about eating ; nevertheless,
I must confess that I always think the dinner on the
boat the pleasantest part of the trip. On a fine, warm
day, when the windows are thrown open, you can
gaze as you eat at the moving panorama of love-
liness outside, feasting body and soul at the same
time.

Tell me, if you can, what is there to excel it ? And
I must not forget to mention the pretty, attentive
waitresses in their spotless attire, supplying all your
wants with such deftness and grace. Where does the
Muskoka Navigation Company manage to get all
those bright, good-looking damsels ? They must
have some secret source of their own, for the supply
never seems to fail.

When we have finished dawdling over our meal,
and are feeling supremely happy and comfortably
full, we ascend to the deck and sink into one of those
big red rocking-chairs, to look around us and try to
count the number of new houses since we were here
last. It is not long before we arrive at " Beaumaris,"
which will soon be a town if it keeps on increasing
at its present rate. Then follows Port Carling, where
the usual afternoon crowd has gathered to meet the
boats. The wharf and the wide steps are crowded
with sun-burnt, happy-looking mortals, sitting and
standing ; laughing and joking boys with hats of many
colours, like Joseph's coat, studded with feminine

152 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

soubriquets (the latest fad) ; girls with immense sun-
bonnets, or peaked caps, dresses all colours of the
rainbow, appearances as varied as the cottages they
dwell in. Behold the Muskoka tourist in all his
glory ! !

Now for my settler friends, who will think I am
quite forgetting them, these little brown bees, these
busy toilers of the whole year round.

I have just been reading Mrs. Moody's book,
" Roughing it in the Bush," with which many of my
readers may be familiar. Of course, it deals with a
much earlier day than ours, dating, I think, between
the years 1830-40, which is more than thirty years
previous to our arrival in this country. I cannot
but think, though, she must have been very un-
fortunate in the class of settlers she encountered
when she first took up her abode in the backwo' J.s.
I can assure you that, fortunately, the Muskoka
settlers cannot claim the slightest relationship with
them. My experience has been, happily for me, the
exact reverse of hers.

The Muskoka settlers are mostly respectable Eng-
lish and Scotch families, who have come out to this
country, as my own father did, in order to escape from
the high rents and unjust restrictions of the "old
land," and to endeavor to make homes for themselves
and earn a decent living in the new. I am only too
well aware that many of the older ones, nay, nearly all
of them, have suffered severe hardships, toiled without

SETTLERS AND TOURISTS. 153

ceasing, borne the heat and burden of the day without
complaint. But what matters that if, blest with con-
tentment and good health, their homes and land are
their own ; every hour they spend in labor, every
dollar they lay out, goes towards the improvement of
their own homes, and not into a landlord's pocket.

I know the land in Muskoka is for the most part
rocky and rough, but everywhere there are patches fit
for cultivation, and at the present time a great and
increasing demand exists for everything that can be
grown thereon. " The good time coming" is plainly
in view for the Muskoka settler. If the summer popu-
lation increases at the same ratio in which it has in
the last few years, I see no reason why every settler
in ten years from now should not be a wealthy man.
So take courage, my hard-working fellow settlers, the
time of prosperity is at hand.

Some years ago, while visiting a well-to-do farmer
in the township of Blanshard, five miles from the town
of St. Mary's, I was struck with the number of hand-
some, well-built houses which lay a little back from
the road as we drove along. I remarked to my
friend, the farmer who was driving me, "The folks
must be pretty well off here to build such houses."
" Well," he said, " there's a good many years of toil
behind most of them. Look there," pointing with his
whip, " see that old log shanty there, down in that

hollow ; that's where Mr. used to live, and now

look at his house on the hill," pointing to a handsome

154 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

brick residence ; and for the remainder of our drive
he amused himself with showing me, as he passed the
various farms which lay along the road, the old house
and the new standing in such striking contrast, the
old one, in most cases, converted into wood-shed or
barn. He also informed me, with a chuckle, that
the pity was, the old folks had lived so long in the
old shanty that they did not take very kindly to the
new mansion, and that they stuck to the kitchen with
great tenacity, rarely using the fine front rooms, the
back door being invariably used as the entrance.
" Well," he concluded, " the young 'uns are growing
up, and they, having bin eddicated up to date, will
mos' likely set in the front parlor, and walk in at the
front door." Most likely they will, my friend; at
least, it is to be hoped so.

Well, I believe in the future we settlers in Mus-
koka will have just such fine houses to live in, and
we shall rejoice in the possession of not only com-
forts but luxuries. We shall have furnaces and hot-
water radiators, instead of stoves ; the water will be
brought into our houses instead of having to be dipped
from the lake ; we shall have gas in every room, and
say farewell to the old coal-oil lamp. In fact, I think
everything good for the human race is journeying
rapidly Muskoka-ward.

I suppose I may be forgiven by the sterner sex if,
before I close this chapter, I just say a word in praise
of the Muskoka women. They have shared nobly in

SETTLERS AND TOURISTS. 155

the toils and privations of their husbands and sons.
Patiently and uncomplainingly they have set them-
selves to work to make the best of their surroundings,
and have labored hard to improve them ; they have
kept house on very short commons without murmur-
ing, they have been true helpmeets in every sense of
the word. I would like to quote here a few lines from
the speech of Lady Aberdeen on " Women in Cana-
da" given before the Colonial Section of the Society
of Arts, in London, a short time since. She said :

" There cannot be too much said about the beauties,
the attractions, and the rich promise of life in Canada ;
but its present position, as I have said before, has
been won by the unremitting toil of its pioneer set-
tlers, and none have borne a heavier share of that toil
than the young mothers, who, well educated them-
selves and brought up in comfortable homes, have
afterwards passed through all the vicissitudes of rear-
ing young families far away on the great lone prairies,
or in the depths of the forests and mountains.

" But you will say, but what of the result ; what of
the women in Canada of to-day ? It was only when
I began to prepare this paper that I felt how rash I
had been to attempt to paint the life and work of
Canadian women in one brief hour.

" Perhaps I can best sum up the chief impression
made upon me by very close intercourse and friend-
ship with them for several years, official and unofficial,
by one word which is much in our mouths to-day —

156

MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

EFFICIENCY. French-Canadian or Manitoban, Nova
Scotian, British Columbian, or the women of Ontario,
they are all alike hall-marked by this stamp.

" We read the stories of the hardships and dangers
endured by those earliest settlers in Canada as if they
were fairy tales ; but they are fairy tales which, handed
down to generation after generation of children at
their mother's knee, make for a high ideal of personal
and patriotic duty."

CHAPTER XIV.
TORMENTING TOM.

" Look there ! look there ! now he's up in the air,
Now he's here, now he's there,
Now he's no one knows where ;
See, see ! he's kicked over a table and chair.
There they go, all the strawberries, flowers, and

sweet herbs,

Turned o'er and o'er, down on the floor,
Every caper he cuts, oversets or disturbs."

—"Ingoldsby Legends"

WHEN I was a young girl in the Old Country
I was once complaining to an old aunt of
my father's of the whims and vagaries of my
younger brothers and sisters, of how one was selfish,
and another cross, until she, wise woman, stopped me,
saying, in a serious tone, " How many are there of you,
Nan ? " I answered, "Six." "Oh !" she replied, " you
are just one of six ; now you must not forget that
each one of those six children possesses an entirely
different individuality ; that each one has his or her
special faults and failings, also virtues. My advice to
you, dear Nannie, is to look for their good qualities
instead of their defects. You know what a wise man
once said to me, 'Never look too hard, except for

157

158 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

something agreeable ; you can find all the disagreeable
things in the world between your hat and your boots.' "

Dear old aunt, I thought she was rather severe upon
me at the time, but her words were never forgotten,
and perhaps it was due to pondering over her remarks
that I acquired the habit of noticing the marked dif-
ferences we constantly observe between brothers and
sisters, children of the same parents, associating con-
stantly with the same people, brought up in the same
home, yet developing into characters so widely diver-
gent, and in all their tastes so far apart. This habit,
which has grown stronger with years, led me on to
become intensely interested in another subject, that
of heredity, with which it is closely associated. What
a marvellous thing it seems that enclosed in the form
of that tiny baby are unnumbered traits, not only of
feature but of character, inherited from generations
of ancestors, all differing from each other, and yet
everyone bearing in mind and body the family stamp
in a greater or lesser degree.

I think it was in the Toronto street-cars I made
most of my studies in this line. I had numberless
opportunities riding back and forth to business, and
an endless and constantly changing series of faces
to observe, so I used to amuse myself with studying
those within my range — perhaps it would be father,
mother and children, and you would see a little girl
a small miniature of the male parent, a small boy
labelled "mother" all over, or still another child a

TORMENTING TOM. 159

curious mixture of both parents. I have often seen a
group of three generations, perhaps the careful grand-
mother going shopping with her married daughter,
accompanied by various young olive branches, where
you might chance to find the same face in three
different stages of existence — childhood, womanhood,
old age.

Another curious fact is, that these striking family
resemblances are most observable by complete
strangers, or by friends who have been absent from
us for a considerable length of time. I will give you
an instance of this which occurred to me a few years
ago. I was sitting with a friend on the verandah
at Hathaway's Bay, watching the departure of the
morning boat, when a complete stranger, a lady who
was sitting near me, evidently an American, turned
at the sound of my voice, and looking me full in the
face, said, " Surely you are one of the Hathaways."
" Yes," I said, " I am Mr. Hathaway's eldest daughter."
" Oh," she continued, still gazing at me, " but you are
like your grandfather." " My father, you mean," I
replied, for I knew it was impossible she could have
known my grandfather, who died in England years
ago. " No," she still affirmed, " I mean your grand-
father," and then she explained that in the parlor she
had seen an oil painting of my grandfather, which
had been brought from England to this country after
his death.

I said to the friend who was sitting with me,

160 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

" Come, let us go and look at the picture," for I had
no idea, often as I had seen it, that I resembled it in
any way, and I was anxious to see the likeness for
myself, and whether it was truly so startling. Strange
to say, we could both see it very plainly. I don't
believe it was there in my youth, but as I grew older
the latent resemblance, unnoticed until now, must have
increased, so that since then, whenever I look in the
mirror, I can see it plainly — my dear old grandfather's
face in my own. But you will be saying, what has
all this to do with Tom ? Tormenting Tom ! Well,
I am coming to him now. I have told you of Mus-
koka tourists, Muskoka settlers, now the next two
chapters will be about something far more interest-
ing— to me, at least — namely, Muskoka children.

I have not far to go to find them, for Winnie is just
across the road with her six ; though Letto, my
eldest nephew, would not care for me calling him a
child — he is a young man now, tall and fair, with a
suspicion of a mustache. Letto is the favorite with all
the children, for he is so gentle and good-natured.
Tom is Winnie's second son, and of quite a different
stamp. Then follows the gentle Ophelia, the only
girl — who is, like Letto, tall and fair, and has the
pathetic droop in the corners of her mouth which
makes her resemble her Shakespearean namesake.
But it is of Tom this chapter is to tell, so here goes.
Tom arrived in this world a thoroughbred Hathaway,
not a trace in him of the gentle Letto, who belonged

TORMENTING TOM. 161

entirely to the Roberts' side of the house ; but Tor-
menting Tom was a rampant, roaring Hathaway.
Winnie knew it when she heard the first loud cry
from his expanding lungs, and as he grew and devel-
oped, we arrived at the conclusion that all the energy,
destructiveness and mischievous qualities of many
generations of dead and gone Hathaways must be
concentrated in that small boy.

Unlike Letto, who had been an angelic baby,
Tom was never at rest. He had a large head,
which was perfectly bald till he was about a
year old, though his mother was always anxiously
looking over it to see if there were any signs
of sprouting hair. This big head of his was
always getting bumped ; being the most prominent
part of his body, it appeared to be always in the
way. When he was about eight months old, Winnie
brought them both down with her on a visit to the
city. Sue's little boy was then about six months old,
and was the happy possessor of a baby carriage and
a small nurse-maid. Sue good-naturedly made the
offer to put another little seat in the perambulator
so that Master Tom could share her baby's daily
promenade.

Well do I remember the first start after the car-
riage had been fixed. We all proceeded out to the
sidewalk to place Master Tom in position. The
babies were to face one another, and Winnie carefully
seated Tom opposite his small cousin. The two

162

MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

glared at each other for a moment, then Tom, with a
howl of rage, threw himself forward, snatched the
other baby's hat off, threw it in the street, and then
seizing him by the hair with one hand did his best
to scratch out his eyes with the other. We hastily
separated and endeavored to soothe the youthful
pugilists, but to no purpose. Tom's fighting blood
was roused, and the double carriage scheme had to
be sorrowfully abandoned.

I think it was two years after this, and when
Ophelia was a baby, that I next saw Tom. Their
mother brought them all once more on a visit
to Sue. I will only tell you one little anecdote of
Master Tom on this occasion ; it will serve as an
illustration of his keen sense of humor and love of
imitation even at the early age of two and a half
years. It was a rainy afternoon, and to amuse the
children I had given them a whole pile of those little
squares of pine used in the city for kindling. They
were happily engaged playing on the floor with these
blocks when a loud outcry from Sue's boy told me
something was wrong. I found he had run a small
splinter into his finger, but with my needle I soon
removed the cause of the trouble, the other two gazing
open-mouthed while the operation was being per-
formed. After a few minutes I missed Master Tom,
and, fearing he was in some mischief, I got up from
my work to discover where he was. I found him
hidden in a small space between the stove and the

TORMENTING TOM. 163

wall, sitting on the floor, but so intent in the perform-
ance he was engaged in that he did not perceive me
looking down on him. Fancy ! the young urchin
was carefully fixing a small splinter in his own
finger, exactly as it was in the other child's. I said
nothing, but quietly returned to my seat to await
further developments. In a few moments the rogue
emerged from his retreat extending his finger towards
me with the splinter sticking up, but holding his hand
very carefully, for he had not the courage to push it
in far. I do wish you could have seen the ex^
pression of his face ; it was most ludicrous. He was
trying to screw up his small features into a look of
agony, at the same time his twinkling eyes were
full of the keenest humor. I snatched up the young
hypocrite and rolled him on the table and we both
laughed till we cried.

The next scene of Tom's youthful days which I
shall relate was in Muskoka. I was not an eye-
witness, but have heard the story told so often that I
know it by heart. Churches were not numerous, nor
church services frequent in Muskoka at this time,
and as Winnie's home was away in the bush, her
third child (the little girl) was about three months
old before an opportunity presented itself of getting
them baptized. She heard then that a service was to
be held in a little English church distant three or
four miles from them, on Easter Sunday, and she and
Mr. Roberts made up their minds to take the three

164 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

children there. My sister Bet and brother Ben and
his wife were to act as sponsors to John Hamlet,
Thomas and the small Ophelia, in the absence of the
other aunties, and Winnie took great pains to impress
on the minds of Letto and Tom for some days before
the necessity of good behaviour, assuring them they
would not be hurt, and explaining in as simple words
as she could how they must conduct themselves. She
had no fear about the angelic Letto, but her heart failed
her when she looked at the sturdy Tom. Direful
forebodings of what might happen when the white-
gowned minister took hold of him rilled her maternal
bosom. Bet, however, laughed at her fears, and said*
" You just leave him to me and he'll be all right,"
which Winnie only too gladly agreed to do. The
eventful Sunday arrived, and it was fine and warm.
The walk through the woods was rather tiring, and
they were glad to reach the church and sit down.
Mr. Roberts took charge of Letto, Winnie had the
baby, and Tom remained under the strict surveillance
of Auntie Bet.

The baby was baptized first, and as the cold water
roused her from her peaceful slumbers her plaintive
wailing so filled the church that Winnie had to retire
with her to the porch, and so escaped the concluding
scenes of the ceremony. Mr. Roberts next handed
over Letto, and of course he behaved well, though he
turned very white and shook in every limb. Now
came Tom's turn. When he saw the minister ad-
vancing towards him he burst into a loud roar and

TORMENTING TOM. 165

clung to Bet's skirts like grim death. The clergy-
man, however, was not daunted, He was a muscular
Christian and not unused to such scenes, so with
a mighty effort he succeeded in detaching Tom and
raising him in his arms. The howling now was
redoubled, but the minister did his best to make his
voice heard as he proceeded with the service, Tom
wildly clawing at his face and hair and kicking for all
he was worth. The climax was reached when, with
his continued struggling, Tom began to slide down-
wards. First his legs, then his body, began to emerge
from his garments, leaving his clothes in a bunch
round his head, and still in the strong grasp of
" his reverence."

Bet said she stood it to this point, but when she saw
Tom's body emerging from his clothes, his legs strik-
ing out in every direction like the sails of a windmill,
and the clergyman, the perspiration standing on his
brow, but still holding on and saying at the top of his
voice, " Fighting manfully under his banner," it was
too much even for equanimity, and she stuffed her
handkerchief into her mouth and, bowing her head,
tried to hide her inward convulsions of mirth. I am
always thankful I was not present ; goodness knows
how I might have conducted myself. Tom, being at
last released, flew to his mother in the porch, they all
heaved a sigh of relief, and the service was concluded
in peace.

Tom was a great boy for his mother — rarely could
11

166 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

he be tempted from her side. Letto from a baby would
be good with anybody, but Tom was just the reverse.
He was also the most profuse weeper it was ever my
lot to meet. He literally shed " floods of tears ;" they
rained over his face in perfect streams. I used to
wonder wherever they came from, the fountain appear-
ing inexhaustible. His mother had fairly to steal
away from him when she wished to go anywhere.
Once I remember she brought them both with her to
my father's, and left them with us while she went over
to the island at the mouth of the bay to spend the
morning gathering huckleberries. Tom did not miss
her for about an hour, and then there was a great
outcry ; nothing could pacify him, the tears flowed in
torrents, and it seemed impossible to staunch the
flood.

At last my father, unable to stand it any longer,
bethought him of a pair of field-glasses which he had
put away in a box. He got them out and adjusted
them, then went to the front of the house to find out
whether he could see Winnie. Yes ! there she was,
picking away on the island. He called Master Tom.
" Now, then, come here ! Will you be good if I
show you your mother? Will you stop that roar-
ing if you can see her with your own eyes ? " Tom
promised, and father held the glasses to his eyes. Ah !
how his face changed when he saw the beloved form
through the magic glass. Yes ! there was mother
right enough, but as father took away the glasses she

TORMENTING TOM. 167

disappeared, and again the cries burst forth, " She's
gone! She's gone ! " Once more the magic machine
was brought forth, and Tom again satisfied himself of
her presence; once more, on withdrawing his eyes, she
vanished ; and so it went on until at last to our great
delight we saw Winnie get into the boat and start for
home.

As Tom grew up he developed a strong taste
for teasing ; he seemed always on the watch for any
opportunity of tormenting the younger ones. There
was a continual cry in the house, and out of it, too, of
" Oh, Tom ! " " Stop, Tom ! " " For shame, Tom ! " I
could fill a book with stories of his tricks, but as I
have some other children to tell you about I will leave
Tom for the present. You will hear of him again,
maybe, in the future.

But I am forgetting to explain the picture of Tom
with his seven puppies. He was a great lover of
animals, and though he delighted to tease them, was
never cruel, especially to the weak and helpless. He
was always encountering stray dogs and bringing
them home, thereby bringing down on his head the
wrath of his mother, who declared she would not have
her house turned into an asylum for waifs and strays.

Once when Tom was sent on an errand to a neigh-
bor's he was taken to see seven puppies, who were
only a few weeks old. Thinking to play a trick on
his mother, he begged the owner to lend them to
him for a short time, and then proceeded home with

168 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

his load. Entering the house he called out, " Don't
be cross, mother, but I have adopted seven little
orphans."

" Orphans ? " said Winnie, coming forward, and then
she spied the seven little dogs. Oh, goodness ! how
she went on, and Tom drawing her out, combatting all
objections, till he had her nearly furious, the villain.
While the controversy was at its height a young lady
visitor, unknown to Master Tom, took a snap-shot of
him and then gave it to me. He will be rather
astonished when he sees his picture in this book. But
serve him right, say I.

CHAPTER XV.
THE "IMMORTAL WILLIAM"

" Make but my name thy love

And love that still,
And then thou lov'st me,
For my name is Will."

— Shakespeare 's Sonnets.

"LJAVE I got to die, Auntie Nannie? Gladys
I 1 says I must die." Fancy a small earnest face
upturned to yours, gazing at you with two serious
blue eyes belonging to a little man just four years
old. Such a question from a child ? For a moment
I was puzzled how to reply, and taking him on my
knee I said, " Why Willie, I hope you will live for a
long, long time, and grow up to be a good man and
be very happy and have lots of people to love you."
" But have I got to die ?" again earnestly asked the
child, and not knowing what had filled his mind with
such a subject I called to his little cousin, Ben's
youngest girl, with whom he had been playing in the
next room, and asked her what she had been saying
to Willie. She, hanging her head and looking rather
shame-faced, replied hurriedly, "Well, I told him
everybody in the world had got to die, and he

169

170 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

would have to die too some day sure, just like my
little bunny rabbit, but I didn't 'ezackly know which
day ; and he'll be put in a hole in the ground and be
covered with leaves like the babes in the wood."

I looked at the two children, such a complete con-
trast. Gladys, a dark-haired, rosy-cheeked, sturdy
little maiden of seven, her eyes sparkling, and whole
being bubbling over with life and energy. Willie,
frail, delicate, spirituelle, his small white face so trans-
parent that every thought of his intensely active brain
seemed mirrored on its surface. I never saw a face
in which the action of the mind could be so easily
read. "Mind" and "Matter" this small pair of
cousins might be aptly named.

I thought my wisest plan was to endeavor to turn
their attention to some other subject, and succeeded
for a time, but Willie was evidently deeply impressed.
The thoughtless words of his playmate had taken a
strong hold of his imagination, and when half an hour
later a visitor came in, a lady whom he knew well,
he ran up to her at once, saying " Have I got to die ? "
The lady, rather startled, looked to me for explana-
tion, which I gave her after I had sent the children
away to play. Winnie told me that his first words
on reaching home that evening were " Mother, have
I got to die?" Dear little Willie. Death over-
shadowed him even before his birth, for he was born
only a few weeks after we had lost our dear father,
and while our hearts were still sore from the shock of

THE "IMMORTAL WILLIAM." 171

our mother's death. No wonder that he had a hard
fight for life, the darling, and that his little body is so
frail and his face so white. But God heard his mother's
prayers and spared her boy, and the months and
years of his short life have served but to enshrine him
ever deeper in our hearts. Since " Auntie Nan "
arrived here she has enjoyed the distinction of being
one of his prime favorites, and " Old Maid's Lodge "
is his second home.

Willie was born on the day his brother Ephraim
was seven years old, and Winnie always calls them her
twins. Bet, who was staying there for the occasion,
describes their first meeting : " The children were all
away at school when Willie was born, but when they
came home to dinner she called Ephraim (who was
my father's namesake) and told him to come upstairs;
and when he arrived she placed the baby in his arms
saying, " There is your birthday present." Poor boy,
he turned first red and then white ; the surprise was
so great he was quite overcome, but it gave him a
sense of ownership as regards the baby. Ever after
he called Willie "my infant," and would come in
from school every day asking " How is my infant ? "
And the " twins " to this day remain the most loving
of comrades.

Before we go any further I must explain to you,
for fear there should be any mistake, that the " Immor-
tal William " is not named after William, Prince of
Orange. No ! to English people, and especially

172 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Warwickshire people, there is only one William
and that is the " Immortal Shakespeare." Not but
that I have the greatest respect for the " Orange
William," though I hardly ever heard his name till I
came to this country and lived in Toronto, where the
great procession of Orangemen on the twelfth of July
was quite a revelation to me. How my heart throbbed
with pride as I saw those hundreds of men marching
along with the bands of music, the banners and the
flowers ; above all, the open Bible carried through
the streets with the glorious motto waving above it,
" Protestant rights we will maintain." How it thrilled
through my very being, for I am a " Protestant of the
Protestants," and glory in the name. Born of a long
line of sturdy "independent" ancestry, our family
motto has ever been " for faith and freedom " ; and in
this new land of our adoption, which is happily free
from so many ecclesiastical swaddling-bands and rags
of ancient mummery, let us ever uphold the Divine
freedom of man and " equal rights to all."

But to return to little Willie. He visits me nearly
every day, and generally arrives soon after breakfast,
walking, if fine, or if wet or snowy hoisted on the
shoulder of one of the older branches of the family.
This morning he greeted me with the question,
" Auntie, am I a nuisance ? " " No ; who said such a
thing to you, Willie ? " " Well, mamma said when I
wanted Letto to carry me over here dreck'ly after
brexfus', that I must be a nuisance to you, I'm not a

THE "IMMORTAL WILLIAM." 173

nuisance, am I, auntie?" regarding me with most
imploring eyes. " No, my darling ; tell her you are
my greatest blessing ; I couldn't do without you,"
and immediately his face assumed an expression of
supreme content. He is the greatest little questioner,
and gives me no peace ; one subject succeeds another.
Last week it was colors. What color is this ? What
color is that? "What color is the sky?" "Blue."
"What color * is my dress?" "Blue, too." "Well,"
looking from the sky to his dark blue frock with a
puzzled look, " they are not alike." " No, your dress
is navy blue." A long pause, eyes fixed gravely
on the dress, then extending his legs, intently
surveying them, " And are my stockings gravy blue,
too?"

To-day he arrived greatly worked up about the
meaning of the word to-morrow. He burst out indig-
nantly, " When is it s'morrow ? They all keep saying
* s'morrow and s'morrow,' and when I get up in the
morning I say, Now it's s'morrow, and they say,
' No, it's s'morning.' Then after dinner I say, Now,
is it s'morrow ? and they say, ' No, it's s'afternoon.'
When is s'morrow ? That's what I want to know."
I leave to my philosophical readers the answer to
this question.

He is getting pretty well acquainted with the
days of the week. His beloved twin stays home
Saturday — no school ; then he learnt it was the next
day to Friday, and Sunday came after the holiday,

174

MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

and so on. But the months of the year are rather
more trouble. The future is always September.
"The violets will bloom— in September." "The
chickens will hatch — in September." " Santa Glaus
will come — in September." " I will be a big man —
in September," and so on ad libitum.

Willie for the most part of the time has to play
alone, for Ephraim is at school. He is therefore
indebted to his own inventive brains for means of
amusement. His father keeps a horse, cow and pig,
and these animals are most attentively watched and
copied by the Immortal William. Their every
action is studied and imitated to perfection. He
takes turns in representing the various animals. He
is generally accosted on his arrival in the morning
with the question, "Well, what are you to-day,
Willie ? " and the reply is, I am a cow, or horse, or
perhaps a colt, as the case may be. Then every
action of the chosen animal is faithfully and cleverly
represented. Honestly, I, being a greenhorn, have
become familiar with all the motions of the animals,
not from my own observations of them, but from
Willie's antics. Often I fairly laugh aloud as I pass
cows and horses on the roadside and see them making
exactly the movements which Willie has gone through
for our amusement. To see him lick his shoulder,
toss his head, kick up his heel, chew his cud, is really
too ridiculous.

Of course, if he is horse or cow, after simply

THE "IMMORTAL WILLIAM." 175

announcing the fact the rest is all dumb show.
You might ask him a dozen questions, but the only
reply would be a toss of the head, a whinny or a moo
as the case might require. If he is a cow he must
needs have a bell, also, more important still, a long
tail. Anything lying around at all resembling that
useful appendage is immediately appropriated for
that purpose. His mother had a good laugh the
other day. There was a lady staying there, and one
morning she, not being very well, did not get up to
breakfast. Willie, running past her bedroom door
and peeping in, saw a long hair switch lying on the
dressing table. He trotted down to his mother in
the greatest state of excitement. " Oh, mamma !
mamma ! there's a lovely cow's tail in Miss Brown's
room on the table. Oh, do ask her to lend it me. I
won't lose it ; I'll be awful careful." " Bless the boy,"
she said, " that would never do ; it is hair ; she wears
it herself." " Wears it herself!" he replied, gazing at
her with eyes wide with astonishment, " what does
she want with a tail ? She's no cow," (the last with
great scorn.) " Do ask her to lend it me, mamma,
just for one day." Poor Willie ! she had to send him
away quite cast down. She would not have had
Miss Brown know of Willie's longing desires for
anything, because she was rather a touchy person,
and for the next day or two Winnie fairly trembled at
meal times when she saw the child's eyes, full of
admiration, steadfastly fixed on the summit of Miss

176

MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Brown's cranium, whereon reposed in all its glossy
stateliness the much coveted cow's tail.

Willie, after recovering from his disappointment,
turned his thoughts and ambition in another direc-
tion, and one day, soon after, came to his mother
with two or three pieces of rag rolled up like small
sausages, and wanted them sewed down the front of
his little dress. After this was done he ran outside,
falling on all fours on the grass, calling out as he did
so, "Now, I'm the cow ; just come and milk me!"
This milking proved a serious business : being a
novelty, every one was pressed into the service, till the
thing got rather monotonous, except to the young
cow, who would come sometimes, almost in tears,
saying to Winnie, " Ephraim won't milk me"; and
when she appealed to the recreant he would toss his
head and say, " I can't be milking him all the time,"
so the poor little cow had sometimes to remain
unmilked.

When Willie personated a horse he always wanted
work, so he used to draw chips on a tiny sleigh and
bring them into the kitchen, always waiting patiently,
if I was engaged, till I was at liberty to unload them
and put them in the wood-box. This, of course, the
horse never did. Occasionally he was a frisky young
colt, and then I had to personate the old "mother
horse." I used to call the sofa the stable, and gener-
ally coaxed the young colt to take his afternoon nap
by lying down with him by my side. Willie's candid

THE "IMMORTAL WILLIAM." 177

remarks to visitors and strangers are often the source
of amusement, though sometimes he puts us to con-
fusion by being anything but complimentary. He
said to a maiden lady of middle age who was here
last week, and was remarking on his fondness for me,
" Wouldn't you like to have me for an auntie, too,
Willie " ? she asked him. " No ! " he said, most em-
phatically, but after looking her over critically for a
minute, added, " I would have you for a grandmother ;
grandmothers die soon, you know." The lady looked
anything but flattered, though I tried to smooth it
over by saying he had never known his grandmother,
had been told she was dead, and so he had got hold
of the idea of death in association with the name.

Another spinster, who wore spectacles, he accosted
with the remark, " Do you call yourself a young lady,
Miss Jones ? " " Well, yes, Willie," she said, bridling
and coloring (for Willie had put the emphasis strongly
on the young), " I suppose I am what you might call a
young lady." " What!" he said, " with those specs ? "
with the most innocent look of surprise imaginable.
Even at the risk of offending, we could not help but
laugh.

Auntie Sue sent him at Christmas a book of animal
pictures when he was three years old, and these
proved a source of never-ending amusement. The
questions he asks about the various animals are innu-
merable, and he is quick to see the resemblance be-
tween them and human beings. The following spring

178 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

he was playing in their garden, which adjoins the
Government road, when he came running in, calling
loudly, " Mamma, mamma ! come quick, there's a
monkey just gone up the road, a great big monkey !
running so fast ! " She ran to the window, and just
caught a glimpse of — what think you, my readers,
you young dudes in short pants and fancy stockings ?
A man on a bicycle ! The first the child had ever
seen, and such was his impression.

I think the monkeys in his book were the greatest
favorites. There was one big ourang-outang, standing
by a stump, which greatly interested him, and came
near being the cause of serious offence to an old friend
of his father's. This gentleman, who never shaved
and was very hairy, and also short-sighted, called at
their house one day, and as he had never seen Willie,
took special notice of him, taking him on his knee and
asking him questions ; Willie meanwhile fixing his
eyes on him with the expression of a snake looking
at its charmer. At last the gentleman said, "You don't
know my name, my little man, now do you ?" " In
course I do," responded Willie, promptly, for he was
recovering from his shyness, "you are the monkey
man, the big hairy monkey man ! I've got your
picture in my book, I'll go and fetch it," suiting the
action to the word, but his mother caught hold of him
and adroitly changed the subject.

Willie's mother is trying to instil into his youthful
mind some of the rudiments of theology, but is often

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THE "IMMORTAL WILLIAM." 179

brought up short by the aptness of his replies and the
quaint ideas of his little brain. For instance, God he
calls the " Man in the sky," and he is continually
asking such questions as, "Will the Man in the sky
laugh and be glad when he sees all the wood your
little horse has drawn for you, mamma ? " " Will the
Man in the sky be sorry if I cry when the soap goes
in my eyes ? " Satan he alludes to with a face of awe
as " that bad boy that we mustn't say his name."

While I am writing this he is beside me, and the
questions come thick and fast. I will close this
chapter with reporting our conversation for the next
ten minutes.

I had given him two or three cards to look at to
keep him quiet, but they do not seem to have that
effect. He has selected one, an Easter card, the usual
thing, angel ringing the bells, doves flying round and
so on, "Auntie, what house is this?" "That is a
church." "What is a church, auntie?" "God's house."
"Aren't all the houses God's, auntie?" "Yes, they
ought to be." " Are all the people that go to church
God's, too ? " " Well, we hope so." " What is this
woman doing ? " pointing to the angel. " That's an
angel ringing the bells." " Do angels always go round
in their nighties, auntie ? Aren't they cold ? Do their
feathers keep them warm?" "I guess so," I reply.
A pause for a moment, followed by another examina-
tion of the card. " What is she ringing the bells for,
auntie ? " " Because it's Easter," I say shortly. " Are

180 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

these the Rasters, auntie ? " pointing to the doves.
" Are all these little Rasters flying round ? " " No,
those are doves." "Ducks, auntie! Can they swim ? "
" Doves ! Doves ! " I say, rather impatiently, but no
one, however crusty, can ever be vexed with Willie ;
he is so sensitive to a word of blame, and so anxious
to please, that we have to be extremely careful not to
hurt his feelings. If we speak harshly to any one in
his presence, even the dog, the corners of his little
mouth go down and the eyes fill with tears. But it is
time I ended this chapter, so for the present we will
wish Willie good-bye.

CHAPTER XVI.
COWS AND COW-BELLS.

Hear the cattle with their bells —

Tinkling bells,

What a tale of terror oft their jingle jangle tells.
In the middle of the night,
When the moon is shining bright,
How we start up in our beds
Thinking of our cabbage heads ;

Of the open garden gate, left last night by careless Kate.
And the ear it fully knows,

By the twanging and the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows.

Yes, the ear distinctly tells
In the jangling and the wrangling

How the danger ebbs and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling
In the tinkling of the bells —
Of the bells! bells! bells!
— With apologies to the shade of Edgar A. Poe.

THE settlers in Muskoka would be badly off with-
out their cows. In the early days, when my
father first came here, cows were few and far
between ; happy the man who was the lucky pos-
sessor of one. Nowadays, though still valuable, they
are by no means so scarce. But as " there is no rose
12 181

182 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

without a thorn," so there is no cow without a fault,
and the particular fault of the Muskoka cows (for
they are all tarred with the same brush, though some
of deeper dye than others) is a dogged determination
to break down every fence, enter every enclosure, and
devour all vegetation found therein.

Wherever the unlucky settler has spent time and
labor in beautifying and enriching some special corner,
and has solemnly made up his mind that no cow shall
ever enter there — enforcing his prohibition by en-
closing his precious piece of property with high
fences, barbed wire and strong gates — no sooner does
he turn his back than his own cows, or his neighbors'
cows, or both together, hold a consultation, find out
the weakest spot in his fortifications, then charge, and
as the old song says, " Locks, bolts and bars soon fly
asunder," and a nice scene of devastation awaits the
poor owner on his return. Perhaps the Muskoka
cows owe their peculiar agility and dare-devil nature
to what we might call their continued hand-to-mouth
struggle for a bare existence in the bush, for seven
months in the year the Muskoka cow has to hustle
for her own living. In May and June, of course,
everything is green, tender and luxuriant ; but wait
till the hot sun of July and August has dried up the
scanty herbage along the country roads, and the
tender twigs and shoots are no longer to be found in
the bush. Is it any wonder that a cow of common-
sense (and nowhere are there more sensible cows than

COWS AND COW-BELLS. 183

in Muskoka) will cast a longing eye over the fence
at those succulent cabbages, that sweet green corn,
those ripe tomatoes.

Then comes the tug of war. The owners of those
favored spots must be ever on the watch. It behoves
them to sleep with one eye open and both ears, for
the onslaught most frequently occurs in the night.
If you are possessed of a good dog you are lucky, for
instead of careering wildly round your garden and
clearing yourself, in scanty night attire, you can send
the dog to perform that part of the programme in
your stead. Of course the cows make a stampede in
every direction but the right one. Of course they
trample down your most precious treasures in their
flight ; but you are only too thankful to see them
outside once more and to close the gate after them
and get back to your warm bed, leaving the light of
morn to reveal the extent of their depredations.
Winnie could relate some cow stories in this line,
how many a time Mr. Roberts has risen in his wrath,
and snatching his gun (which generally happens to
be unloaded, luckily for the cows) has gone out,
breathing threats of vengeance, death and murder in
his heart.

Bet has an old roan cow who is the ringleader of
all the cows in the neighborhood. I think she plans
all their escapades. She is what you might call
commander-in-chief, like her mistress. Now Winnie
and her family are death on this cow. They were

184 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

even so wicked last fall as to propose that she should
be killed, quartered, and divided up amongst the lot
of us. They consider, with their ringleader gone, the
other cows would be more amenable to reason. They
have not the duplicity and far-sightedness of Bet's old
roan — due, no doubt, to her long years of experience
in foraging. Her life, you may say, for some time
trembled in the balance. I myself was not greatly in
favor of dividing and eating her, as I have arrived at
an age when my teeth are none of the best, and I fear
she would prove but a tough morsel. But, anyway,
her absence from these scenes so familiar would
cause no regret on anybody's part. It was not to be,
though ; " justice was tempered with mercy " and her
life spared for one more year, much to the disgust of
the Roberts' family.

Another failing of the Muskoka cow, to which she
is very prone, is to absent herself at the milking hour.
The cows seem to be always playing truant. If their
bells cannot be heard it is a matter of mere conjecture
whether to start north, south, east or west in pursuit
of them. Of course, it goes without saying the route
chosen is always the wrong one, and many a mile
has the unlucky wight in charge of them often to
travel before he hears the welcome " tinkle tinkle of
their bells."

When I took possession of " Old Maid's Lodge " I
soon made up my mind that a cow of my very own I
must have. I thought of the thick cream in my tea,

COWS AND COW-BELLS. 185

the butter just fresh from the churn, the foaming new
milk ; and so my brother-in-law was instructed to be.
on the lookout and get me one as soon as possible.
I wanted her to be young, so that I could train her
in the way she should go. So he bought me a pretty
little red and white heifer.

A friend of mine, whom I was taking proudly to
see my new possession, said, " First of all, give her a
name, then keep calling her by it until she knows it
and comes to your call ; then reward her with some
little dainty, and you'll never have any trouble at
milking time."

I proceeded to act on his advice. As to the name,
we decided on Belle, because I had a baby Belle
staying here with her mother at the time, and she
was to have the honor of naming the new cow. We
coaxed her up in front of the house and then placed
the baby on her back. The two made such a pretty
picture that Tom ran off for his camera to take a
photo of them ; but it proved no easy task. Both of
the Belles were continually on the move. Though
nearly a loaf of bread and a bowl of sugar were con-
sumed in the attempt to obtain a moment's repose,
the results were far from satisfactory. In one nega-
tive the cow had two heads ; in another baby Belle
had four hands ; in still another the two Belles were
so inextricably mixed up that it was impossible to
tell which was which. So we had to abandon the
idea of the photograph, much to our regret

186 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Belle soon learned to know her name. She is only
too eager to answer my call; indeed, she comes
without any call, and the disadvantage is that her
nose is always poking in at the back door looking for
more bread and sugar. In the fall, when the cold
weather came, I had the shed we were using for the
poultry converted into a cow-house, and a warmer
place put up for my poultry. This led to an amusing
scene. At the bottom of the shed door a small
square hole had been cut so the hens could pass in
and out. The morning after Belle had been put in
possession I happened to go out early, and looking in
that direction, saw a cow's head and horns apparently
mounted on the lower part of the door, in the same
way as the head of a stag is mounted on a board. I
approached nearer, rubbing my eyes, for I thought
surely my sight deceived me. Yes, to my horror,
there was Belle's head — fixed, immovable — through
the hole in the door. How she got it there will ever
remain a miracle ; but there it was, sure enough. I
found it impossible to open the door ; and as the hole
fitted closely on each side of her neck, it was just as
impossible to move the cow. I ran for the axe to
try and chop the hole bigger, but this scared the cow
so much that she began to struggle, and I feared she
would strangle herself.

I then raced off to Winnie's for Letto and Tom,
and what did that rascal Tom do when he arrived on
the scene but sit on a log and roar with laughter,

COWS AND COW-BELLS. 187

telling Letto not to do anything till he had fetched
his camera to make a picture for the Strand Maga-
zine. He bet that cow would stand still now. I had
to get really angry before he would stop fooling. We
found nothing could be done but take the door off its
hinges and lift it straight up from the cow's neck.
This took some time, for the screws were rusted ; but
at last we released her, and very thankful I was to
find she was not much hurt.

And now, if I ask some of my readers who live in
the city, What is the proper feed for a cow? they
will no doubt reply, " Grass in summer, hay in winter,
or, perhaps, roots, mangels or turnips." " Oh, that's
what you think, is it? Well, you don't know the
peculiar tastes of the Muskoka cows nor the powers
of their digestive apparatus. You would never sup-
pose soap to be reckoned amongst their chief dainties,
and yet Winnie declares they helped themselves to
six bars, one after another, from the shed she used as
laundry, and that if the children take a piece of soap
down to the lake when they bathe, and leave it on the
^hore, they never find it again— but the cow does. Last
winter my brother Ben drove to Port Carling one very
cold day to get some groceries. On his return, after
putting the horse in the stable, he went into the house
to get warmed up, leaving the parcels in the sleigh near
the verandah. It appears his man had let out the cows
to water them, and Bet's old roan at once proceeded
to investigate into the contents of the sleigh. About

188 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

half an hour after, when my brother went out, he saw
the parcels had disappeared, but concluded the chil-
dren had taken them indoors. But no such luck. On
enquiry the culprits were discovered. Everything in
the sleigh had vanished, except a few dirty scraps of
paper. I expect they found the tea rather dry eat-
ing, but they moistened it with three pounds of but-
ter, and then smacked their lips over ten pounds of
sugar, finishing off with a pound of starch and a
packet of blue. . Their owner had to drive to the store
again next day, and this time he did not leave the
parcels in the sleigh.

People when they first come to Muskoka often
complain that the sound of the cow-bells in the night
keeps them awake. I remember a clergyman who
was staying in Port Carling several years ago telling
me, when I remarked on his tired look, he had been
kept awake two or three nights in succession by a
regular " cow convention " in front of the house where
he slept. He often, in sheer desperation, got up and
drove them off, but they soon returned again.

Well, after all, this is not so bad as country folks ex-
perience when they visit the city and are kept awake
all night by the noise of the street-cars, etc. Once an
old Presbyterian lady from the country was visiting
my employer on Yonge Street. As it happened, the
first night she was there the students of the Univer-
sity made one of their midnight " vocal marches "
up the street. When the old lady arrived down

COWS AND COW-BELLS. 189

stairs to breakfast, it was fun to hear her describe the
experiences of that night. Not one wink had she
slept, and she looked worn out. She said, too, that
just as she was dozing off in the morning she heard
the boys yelling in the streets, " Awful world ! awful
world ! " and she thought, " You are right, my boys,
and the sooner I get back to my peaceful home in
the country the better." What she had heard was
the newsboys shouting " Morning World ! " " Morn-
ing World!"

CHAPTER XVIII.
ON CATS' ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS.

" Confound the cats ! All cats— alway—
Cats of all colors, black, white, grey,
By night a nuisance, and by day,
Confound the cats !

" Confound their saucy-looking whiskers !
Confound them, whether old, or friskers !
Confound their midnight squally discourse !
Confound the cats ! "

— Dobbin.

NO stories of life in Muskoka would be complete
without at least a few words about the mem-
bers of the feline race, who not only abound here, but
are particularly strong and active, and attain an enor-
mous size. Why they should be much larger than
Toronto cats I cannot conceive, unless it is the fresh
air, or maybe it is their plentiful supply of mice ; any-
way, it is a fact the cats are prodigious ! I never look
atone of the monstrous old Toms but I think of that
verse in Genesis : " There were giants in the land in
those days."

Now, I must confess, I am no lover of cats, never
have been, though I am an old maid. That ancient
saw about cats and old maids is a fallacy. Let me

190

ON CATS! ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS. 191

give you a living proof of this. Here is my sister
Sue, a wife and mother, who perfectly dotes on cats;
has done so ever since she was a baby.

I remember how she used to hug and kiss our old
cat at the farm in England when we were all children.
How she nursed it as her baby, preferring it to all
her dolls, which she said were only " old dead things,"
while Pussy was a real " meat baby," alive and kick-
ing. She used to walk up and down the room by the
hour carrying it in her arms, wrapped in an old shawl,
and singing for a lullaby, as she hushed it to sleep,

" I love little Pussy, her coat is so warm,
And if I don't hurt her she'll do me no harm."

It was a pretty sight to see her, I have no doubt,
and I believe there was even a suspicion of a tear in
our fond mother's eye as she watched the little mimic
and her baby ; but there was no tear in mother's eye
when, one day, she discovered the loss of baby's best
embroidered robe and cap, and made the discovery,
after much vain searching, that they had been appro-
priated by little Miss Sue, who had carefully dressed
her beloved cat in the dainty garments, and was at
that very moment proudly parading the village
streets, amidst a cloud of dust, a whole tag-rag and
bobtail of envious urchins at her heels. This was the
climax, and effected the entire ruination of the " cat
and baby " business.

Poor little Sue, her days of childish romance were

192 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

suddenly brought to a close, but the love of cats still
lay dormant in her breast, and, years after, in the early
days of our sojourn in Toronto, when a little black
kitten ran into our house and took refuge under her
bed, Sue was determined to keep it for her own.
She quieted all my mother's objections to the new
arrival by saying that a black cat coming into a
house brought with it great good luck ; that unknown
and fearful misfortunes would befall us if we dared to
drive it away — all the boarders might suddenly
leave ; the chimney might take fire ; we might be all
burnt to death in our beds, and then we would know
what it meant to turn out a black cat. The vague
idea of such dreadful events following its eviction so
scared poor mother that she yielded the point, and
the black cat took up its abode with us.

Now, I think it is owing to Sue's persistent conduct
on. this occasion that the tribe of Muskoka cats owe
that strong streak of the " Old Harry " which is so
predominant in their make-up to-day ; but to show the
reasons which have led me to this conclusion I must
continue my story. The black kitten grew and thrived
under Sue's loving care and protection, but as it
grew older displayed such a mischievous temperament,
such a spiteful disposition, such sad thieving pro-
pensities, that one of our male boarders christened it
" Satan." Sue, of course, strongly objected to the
title, but it appeared so appropriate to everyone else
in the house that the name stuck, and, sad to relate,

ON CATS ! ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS. 193

the cat never got rid of it. Well, one fine morning
we all received a startling shock. Satan undeniably
proved herself to be a lady by depositing no less
than five satanic young imps, black as herself, on
Sue's bed Sake's alive, wasn't there an uproar !
But tender-hearted Sue would not hear of one of
them being drowned ; was furious and dissolved
herself in tears when such a thing was even hinted at.
Still, as days went on, it was plainly to be seen that
" old Satan " and five " young Satans " were too
much for one house. Even Sue could not be blind to
this fact, so she concocted a plan of her own for the
disposal of them, which she craftily proceeded to put
into execution.

My father was at home just then, but only waiting
till the boats began running to return to Muskoka.
The morning he went away Bet and I accompanied
him to the station, but Sue was nowhere to be found
when he wanted to wish her good-bye, which we
thought very strange. However, on our arrival at
the station the mystery was solved. There sat Sue
in the waiting-room keeping watch and ward over an
immense bonnet box, very securely tied, and the lid
perforated with numberless small holes, like a gigantic
pepper box. I need hardly tell you that it contained
" Satan " and her progeny. Sue had made up her
mind, after many a severe struggle, to send the whole
family to Muskoka. Father fumed and raged when
he discovered the contents of the box, and swore he

194 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

would never take them. Sue was as equally deter-
mined that he should. The conflict raged for some
time, and ended by Sue mounting on the cars with
her box and depositing her precious burden by the
side of father's valise. " Now, dad," we heard her
say, in a very coaxing tone, " don't you always say
the mice are swarming up in Muskoka — that they
worry you to death ? See what a clearance this cat
will make for you, especially when the five kittens
are old enough to help her. Why, there won't be a
mouse left for miles around." But father was not to
be coaxed. He vowed that as soon as he got to
Gravenhurst he would send the whole caboose adrift
on the lake. Fancy Satan, with her five babies,
sailing around on Lake Muskoka in a bonnet-box
boat. The thought of it was too ridiculous altogether.
But even this awful threat did not deter Miss Sue
from her purpose. She talked and persuaded, and
waited on the train until it was actually moving.
Then she leaped off, leaving the box behind her.
Bet and I quite expected to see it come bundling
after her. But it was not quite so bad as that, and
our next news of the Satanic family was that they
had reached Hathaway's Bay in safety, and had taken
to their new life in the backwoods amazingly well.

Indeed, Bet told us, when she went up there some
weeks later, that father, strange to relate, had developed
quite a fondness for Satan. I think family cares
must have had a sobering effect upon her, for she

ON CATS! ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS. 195

would sit quietly on his knee in the evenings, and he
would talk to her as he smoked his pipe. They
became, in fact, quite " chummy " ; so, as Shakespeare
says, " All's well that ends well."

Of course, as I said before, the Satanic blood has
infused itself into the whole race of Muskoka cats,
and I doubt whether at the present day in the whole
district there is a cat living who has not a few drops
of it in her veins. " A little leaven has leavened the
whole lot."

Now, I will give you a few of my own experiences
this past winter in the matter of cats — how I have
been goaded to madness and driven nearly to
desperation by their antics ; how I have vowed a
solemn vow that after I have once got rid of the
animals I am now tormented with, no cat shall abide
under my roof for evermore.

When I came to Muskoka to live I discovered, as
the renowned Dick Whittington did on his travels of
yore, that in Muskoka there was a general plague ;
no house seemed to be exempt. It was at its worst
in the spring and fall. This plague was mice. There
seemed to be mice, mice, everywhere ; you could not
open a drawer or a cupboard but a mouse popped out ;
you discovered them at every turn " eating your cake,"
"smelling the cheese," "drowned in the milk,"
" smothered in the flour," "scampering over your
pillow," " floating in your wash basin." Even your old
letters, treasured perhaps for years, and put away

196 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

carefully in some small box, you found, when you
opened it to gaze on them once more, " nothing but a
mouse's nest."

We tried mousetraps, we tried "rough on rats." At
last the girl I had helping me, in an unlucky moment,
smuggled in a young cat, aided and abetted in her
deception by my sister Winnie, who owned the
"mother cat" and was very anxious, for certain
reasons, to get rid of the " daughter cat." When I
discovered their joint deception I was very irate, and
insisted at first that the intruder should be restored
at once to the bosom of her mother ; but Minnie pled
so earnestly to keep it, and my sister enlarged to such
an extent on its valuable qualities as a " mouse exter-
minator," that in the end I was over-persuaded. The
cat remained, and from that time my troubles began.

Being young, she was also playful (that goes with-
out saying). Her greatest delight was to mount the
table, sideboard, or bureau, look around till she dis-
covered something reliable (to coin a new word), then
to stand up on her hind legs in a very pretty attitude
and with gentle pats, first with one paw and then with
the other, succeed at last in tumbling the article to
the ground. It might arrive there whole, or it might
not, that was just as it happened, and did not concern
Miss Pussy in the least. Then commenced a game,
which you might aptly call " Cat's Croquet." If there
were more than one ball so much more interesting
was the game. Her very highest felicity was attained

ON CATS! ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS. 197

when the balls would unwind. Oh ! what rapture
and wild delight she felt then. Oh ! the intricacies
of the maze with which she would proceed to surround
every available leg of table and chair, in and out like
a weaver's shuttle, back and forth, round and round,
from one room to another, till the ball was exhausted.
Not so Miss Puss, however. She knew not the mean-
ing of the word. She was ever on the alert, ready
and waiting for the next piece of mischief. When I
had enjoyed the possession of this lovely creature for
about a month, my brother's wife, Mattie, who had
been spending the summer in Muskoka, and was now
returning to the city, presented herself at my house
one morning with a large handsome cat in her arms,
almost the model of mine, only bigger ; might have
been her maternal aunt, but proved on enquiry to be
only an elder sister. She also had been a gift from
Winnie, for my sister was an adept at dispensing of
her superfluous cats amongst her friends and relations.

" Oh, Nan," commenced my sister-in-law, " I want
you to do me a favor. Will you keep this cat for me
till I come up again in the spring ; we are all so fond
of her ; Joe would not part with her for anything ;
we have all made such a pet of her. Will you keep
her for me ? "

Now, I hated saying no, for this same sister-in-law
had done me many a kindness during the past sum-
mer. Still more did I hate saying yes, for I had a
faint idea (faint, indeed, as it proved) of what I might
13

198 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

have to endure when my present misery was doubled.
Still I felt there was no choice left me, so submitted
meekly to my fate.

I was not quite so meek, however, when a few
weeks later Bet arrived with her old " Tom." She
also was going to Toronto, and proceeded to say,
while fondling the monster, of whom she was ex-
tremely proud, " My dear Nan, you promised to have
my dog while I was away ; will you have poor old
Tom, too ! "

" No, I wont ! " I burst forth, interrupting her in my
wrath. " Take him to Winnie."

" But she doesn't want him," continued Bet, " she's
afraid he might scratch the baby."

" Nothing of the kind," I said. " I'll go over and
see her myself."

" Well, perhaps, you can persuade her," said Bet,
and I started off to try.

" Now, Winnie," I began, as soon as I reached her
house, " it's no use you saying you can't have Bet's
cat, you've just got to have it. Here I'm bothered
to death, as you very well know, with the two I have
already. I'm willing to have her dog, but I'll be
bothered if I take another cat, so just make up your
mind to that."

After considerable badgering Winnie reluctantly
gave way, and said she would keep the cat ; but 1
don't know "how the dickens it is," but old Tom
absolutely refuses to stay over there ; he seems to

ON CATS! ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS. 199

have got it into his stupid old head that here he will
stay, and nowhere else, till his mistress returns. (Oh,
may it be soon !)

Winnie says she does her best to induce him to
stay at their place, and blames it all to my two cats
being of the feminine gender ; but I will own I have
my suspicions she does not lay out any special
inducements to keep him at home.

To return to my two cats, or rather my cat and
Mattie's. They had soon made friends, and my cat
grew so rapidly after the other one's advent that
before very long I scarcely knew them apart. This
made it very awkward, and I am afraid one often got
punished for the other by mistake. But how could I
tell? If they were both in the dining-room, and one
jumped off the table as I entered the room, which of
the two had been at the meat ? Sometimes, to make
sure, I gave them both a whack, but this was obviously
unjust. Then, again, unless I fed the two together I
felt sure one of them often got two dinners and the
other none.

My nephew, Tom the torment, unfortunately heard
me mention to a friend this difficulty I had in distin-
guishing the cats, and the next day, while I was busy
in the kitchen, he caught my cat and, taking her off
into a quiet corner, proceeded to shave the hair off
her tail for the distance of about two inches from the
tip, leaving a long sharp spike emerging from a ruff
of fur. Then the impudent rascal brought her and

200 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

dumped her down in the kitchen, saying, "There,
Aunt Nan, I think you'll be able to tell those two cats
apart now, even without your specs ; this one you
can call " Spindly-tail," and the other one " Dubby."
" Oh ! you rogue ! " I began, but he was off like a
streak before I could say any more.

Now I will give you a short account of one night
and the adventures thereof, with all its cat-astrophes.
Remember, this is only one night out of about a
hundred and fifty nights which I have put in this
winter, and then you can imagine a little of what I
have endured. I must explain to you, before I begin
my story, that in this house I have no doors on either
parlor, dining-room or hall, only curtains hanging
over the doorways ; therefore, I cannot fasten the
cats downstairs. And these same curtains form the
most admirable playground for the nightly game of
hide-and-seek which commences immediately my
head is laid on the pillow.

" But why don't you turn the cats out of doors
before you go to bed ? " say some of my hard-hearted
male relatives.

"Well, it is twenty degrees below zero. How
would you like to be turned out for the night your-
self?"

I can't shut them up with the hens in the hen-
house, nor the ducks in the duck-house, nor the cow
in the cow-house. There is only the ice-house left,
and that would scarcely do on such a night as this.

ON CATS! ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS. 201

I glance at them before I go upstairs to bed. There
they lie, stretched out close to the stove, apparently
in the deepest of slumbers ; you would think, to look
at them, that an earthquake would scarce disturb
them before morning. But appearances are decep-
tive, as we all know. Surely, I think to myself,
gazing at them, they will be quiet to-night ; and
taking my nice hot brick out of the oven for my feet
I steal gently away to my chilly bedroom in the
upper storey. Scarcely daring to breathe for fear of
awaking them, I quickly undress in the cold and get,
shivering, into bed. I am just beginning to get a
little bit warm when I hear sounds of stealthy feet
coming up the stair-case, pit-pat, pit-pat. Then all
at once a loud whop, a bound and a scuffle. They
have begun their game. I pop my head from under
the bed-clothes at the risk of getting my nose frozen,
and call " Scat ! scat ! " at the top of my voice. There
is a dead silence at once ; I retreat under the bed-
clothes and shut my eyes again. Bang goes some-
thing off my dressing table, the bottle of vaseline, like
enough. I can hear it rolling. Now they are both
there— " Spindly-tail" and "Dubby." They have
rolled the bottle under the bed — rattle, rattle over the
hardwood floor, a regular bowling match. Again I
emerge, bang the edge of the bedstead, scream " scat "
louder than ever, and at last seize the chair by the
side of the bed and pound the floor with it. This
seems to have the desired effect. I fancy I hear

202 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

them retreating, so once more get under cover. I
am beginning to feel warm again when I hear a faint
purring ; it comes nearer and nearer, " He-brew, she-
brew " louder and louder, then I feel a dead, heavy
weight on my lower limbs, followed by a soft prod-
ding all over my body as if I were dough and two or
three bakers were kneading me. At last I can stand
it no longer. I spring up in a rage, and striking off
in the darkness send one of them on to the floor like
a cannon-ball, the sparks flying in every direction.
I feel round for the other to do likewise, but she has
effected a rapid escape. Once more I try to sleep.
Hark ! what is that ? A blood-curdling sound from
the verandah just like a woman being murdered and
a dozen children spanked at the same time — Bet's
old Tom has arrived. In sheer desperation I jump
out of bed and call the dog — Bet's dog, Nailer. He
gets his name from a habit he has of sidling up to
strangers and fawning on them ; then when they are
tempted to pat him he suddenly nails them. It isn't
a pleasant habit, but to-night I am only anxious that
he should succeed in nailing that cat, so I open the
outer door. The cold rushes in — Nailer rushes out.
There is a sharp skirmish ; a great deal of scuffling
and spitting, barking and swearing, and Nailer
returns triumphant. " Good dog ! " I say, " you have
routed the enemy " ; and I hasten to get my half-
frozen limbs under cover and compose myself to
slumber.

ON CATS! ESPECIALLY MUSKOKA CATS. 203

So the night passes away ; morning dawns at last.
Don't, I pray you, think this story any exaggeration ;
it is the reverse. The repetitions, the variations are
innumerable, but I will have mercy on you, and end
my tale, just remarking, ere I close, that if any of my
readers feel they would like a " nice cat," with the
greatest pleasure in the world I will give them their
choice between "Spindly-tail" and "Dubby."

P.S. — One month later. Hurrah ! I have disposed
of " Spindly-tail." A certain young clergyman, who
was belated here on a stormy night, took a violent
fancy to her. He nursed her all the evening, and
took her to bed with him when he retired. Trem-
blingly next morning I ventured to offer him the
lovely creature as a present. He jumped to the
bait ; and after a loving farewell I have carefully
packed her in a basket, and she has gone far away,
thanks be praised !

CHAPTER XVIII.
WINTER IN MUSKOKA.

" What matter how the night behaved ?
What matter how the north wind raved ?
Blow high, blow low, not all its snow
Could quench our hearth-fire's ruddy glow.

Shut in from all the world without,
We sat the clean-winged hearth about,
Content to let the north wind roar
In baffled rage at pane and door,
While the red logs before us beat
The frost line back with tropic heat."

— Whittier.

I MUST fulfil my promise of telling you something
of our Muskoka winters, and I just fancy I hear
you saying, with a shudder, " Augh ! it must be
horrible, 'winter in Muskoka/ and this particular
winter (1903-04) above all others. Surely the cities
have been bad enough, what with * frozen water
pipes,' 'slippery sidewalks,' and * draughty street-cars,1
but Muskoka ! ! why, we heard you had more than
thirteen feet of a snowfall there." And you shiver
again at the very thought as you plant your feet on
the fender in front of your blazing coal fire and
resume your reading. But don't you know, my

204

WINTER IN MUSKOKA. 205

friend, that in this world there is a law of com-
pensation, and that though we dwellers in Muskoka
may be deprived of many comforts you enjoy in the
city, I want to point out some things you miss by
never seeing Muskoka in her garb of snowy white.
Oh, the loveliness of some of these wintry days, the
matchless purity of the snow, like the finest icing,
with which no confectioner's art could vie. The
trees, every twig outlined with frosty diamonds,
sparkling in the sunshine, and standing out in bold
relief against the blue sky. The effect is absolutely
dazzling, and one has to shade the eyes with the
hand before the glittering splendor of the scene.
Then, the moonlight nights, the merry young skaters,
the toboggan slides, the sleigh-rides, and, in the
evenings, the roaring wood fires, the snug cosy
corners, the happy family gatherings round the
hearth, the day's work done, and all prepared for
enjoyment. " Ah ! " but you say, still incredulous,
"that is the bright side; show us the other."
Well, what if we do have to go to the lake to fetch
every pail of water, tumbling down the steep banks
through the snow, searching for the water-hole in the
ice, only to find it frozen over solid, and, after repeated
efforts to break it, first, banging the handle off the
dipper, and then hammering with the water pail, all
to no effect, have to reluctantly scramble up the bank
again to get the axe ? What if we do have to take
our walks abroad in a narrow rut, one following

206 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

behind another like a flock of geese, crossing our
feet gingerly, knowing that to step an inch to the
side means a sudden plunge into the beautiful ? We
can laugh at these things, because we have the health
and spirits which our brave fight with the snow and
wind imparts. " Dull in winter," say you ? I trow
not, my city friend. We know not the meaning of
the word. Work is too plentiful for dulness to show
its nose in Muskoka. We have no time to be dull,
and go to bed at night tired out, sleep like tops, with
the blankets well pulled up over our ears, and a small
earthquake would hardly wake us.

The Muskoka settlers seem to reckon the length of
the winter from the time the boats cease running on
the lakes until they commence again in the spring.
Thus, the length varies, as in 1902-03 the last boat
ran on December 6th, and the first one came up on
April 6th, making that year a winter of only four
months, while last winter, 1903-04 (a record breaker in
severity), the lakes were frozen up fully five months.
The hunting season is from 1st to I5th November,
and after the hunters have departed we may fairly
say winter sets in. We then begin to look forward
to Christmas and the Christmas tree. The children
are all excited and busy with presents — home-made
ones, of course, in Muskoka, as we have no stores to
run to, except it may be one visit to Port Carling to
see what Mr. Hanna has new in for the holiday trade.

Useful presents, too, rather than ornamental ones

WINTER IN MUSKOKA. 207

are preferred ; and as our olive branches here now
number nearly twenty, it is no light task to provide
for them all. Unluckily we cannot give the present
to them all which little Willie thought of giving his
mother. I must tell you about that. It was about
two weeks before Christmas, and we were all busily
working, when Willie came to me with a very serious
face and said : " Auntie Nan, I want to make a
Christmas box for my mother, all by myself." " Bless
you, my darling," I said, "you shall." Taking him up
in my arms, I continued, " What could you make,
Willie, all by yourself, without anyone helping you ? "
Willie put his arm around my neck and considered
very thoughtfully for a minute or two ; then a raptur-
ous look came over his face and he cried out : " Oh !
I can make her a hole. I can make her a lot of
holes," and then, in an ecstasy of delight, giving me a
big hug, "and she can mend them ! " But I'm afraid
our young folks wouldn't be satisfied with Willie's
presents. They require something more substantial,
though I expect their poor mothers have received
many such presents from them.

We have an acquisition to our family circle this
winter, a cousin from England, who arrived in Canada
last summer, after a " ripping " voyage across the
Atlantic, as he informed us on his arrival. He is very
tall and good-looking, but oh, so English ! so unmis-
takably English ! He belongs to the patrician branch
of our family, and is only descended from the plebeian

208 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

Hathaways on the female side of his house. We
thought him too tony for anything the first night he
was here. " Gee ! " said Tom, " but he's too tony for
me," while Willie asked innocently, " Is his name
really Tony ? " at which we all laughed ; but the
remark was so apropos that " Tony " he became to us,
and " Tony " he will remain to the end of the chapter.

Notwithstanding his aristocratic appearance and
polished manners — such a contrast to our rough-and-
ready Muskoka boys — Tony soon became a general
favorite, and we were all delighted when we found he
would stay the winter with us. The boys tried to
scare him with stories of what he would have to go
through when the cold weather came, but Tony was
not to be daunted. He soon entered into all the
work and the sports with a vim. He learnt to handle
an axe, to milk a cow, to mend a fence, to make a
jumper, to cut and haul ice, to wear moccasins and
mitts, to pull his cap over his ears, and only once got
his chin slightly frozen, which was not bad for a
11 greenhorn " who struck Canada in just such a winter.

Well, we had a fine Christmas and a marvellous
Christmas tree, though the presents were so numerous
and bulky that more than half of them had to be de-
posited on the floor underneath.

The children's eyes fairly podded out when they
beheld its splendors. Auntie Sue excelled herself
this year ; her box from Toronto was cram-jam with
nice things for everybody, and our poor home-made

WINTER IN MUSKOKA. 209

presents blushed with shame at being in such fine
company.

Fancy me, " old Aunt Nan," with my grey hair,
almost white, getting a lovely pink silk blouse, so
pretty I could almost eat it ; but as for wearing it,
what will folks say if I do ?

Gladys got a doll nearly as big as herself, and Wil-
lie a rocking-horse covered with real hair ; and as
parcel after parcel was unwrapped and each one's pile
was getting large, the excitement and fun became
uproarious.

Winnie was presented with a big cardboard box,
in which, after removing innumerable wrappers, was
a large bottle of castor oil, labelled, " To be given to
the children next day to prevent any ill effects from
over-eating." I got a big doctor's book from Tony, in
which was written, " Old Mother Hathaway, so that
she can doctor the district." Fancy such an insult to
an " old maid." Oh ! we had a fine Christmas, and
on New Year's Day we all went to Bet's. Her enter-
tainment, of course, exceeded everything. The table
was a sight to behold. I believe if we had all stayed
a week and eaten steadily we could hardly have
cleared it. Then, after dinner, we had charades, at
which Winnie and Ben excel, and we laughed till the
tears ran down our faces over their comical perform-
ances. One of the best charades was the slang
phrase now so common, " Search me," and they had a
custom house scene which was most ridiculous. We

210 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

finished up with all kinds of games for the children,
till Willie remarked, with the greatest look of satisfac-
tion, "This is the place where children 'joy them-
selves." Thus ended a happy day, the first, we hope,
of a happy year.

The next business on hand, after the Christmas
parties were over, was cutting the ice and filling the
ice-houses. This proved to be a hard task for every-
body this year, on account of the great depth of
snow. Old settlers say they scarcely remember such
a year for snow, and it commenced to fall so early,
while the ice was thin. And though we tried to keep
a space shovelled off, so that it would freeze thicker,
our labor seemed all in vain, for either there would
be another snowstorm or else a wind storm, and we
would see our small clearing on the lake obliterated
in an hour.

It was some weeks before we succeeded in getting
the ice, and even then it was poor in quality, so much
snow frozen in with it that we had to pack a double
quantity, as it melts so much more quickly when
the warm weather comes. The men had the same
difficulty cutting firewood in the bush. The snow
was so deep that when they felled N a tree it sank
completely out of sight, and they had to dig it out of
the snow before they could saw it. All this was a
novel experience to our tall English cousin. The
boys used to joke him, and say, " it was a mercy he
was so tall, or they would have lost him completely

WINTER IN MUSKOKA. 211

in the bush." He himself told me he sometimes
sank up to his armpits in the drifts. All our gates
and fences were covered. We did not see them for
months, and were quite delighted to see the posts begin
to peep out in the spring.

I did not have the pleasure of seeing the snow
disappear, though, this year, for about the end of March
my sister Sue sent a most pressing invitation for us
to spend Easter with them in Toronto — that is, my
brother Ben, Tony and myself. For my part, I was
very unwilling to undertake the journey in the winter.
I had heard such dreadful tales from Bet and my
mother of these winter journeys — the long, cold drive
to Bracebridge, the awful roads, the upsets, etc. — that
I had always vowed I would never attempt it, though
Bet mocks at my fears and goes herself every winter.
However, both the boys were so determined I should
go, that I had at last to give a reluctant consent.
Ben arranged that we should drive with a neighbor of
ours across the lake, who was sending his two sons
and team of horses to Bracebridge for a load of hay.

We left Hathaway 's Bay the Monday before Easter,
about three a.m., to cross Lake Joseph to this neigh-
bor's house. We were only able to take a small
valise each, and Ben and Tony packed me, with these,
on a small hand-sleigh, which had been used to draw
the blocks of ice, and proceeded to pull me along at
a fine rate, crunching and bumping in the cold and
darkness, and mightily glad was I when I saw the

212 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

dim light in the distance, which showed we were
approaching our destination.

When we arrived we found them all astir, and I
went in to get warmed while the horses were hitched
up. When they called me out I found they had
arranged the valises to form a kind of back for me
to lean against, and I had to sit flat on the rough,
loose boards forming the bottom of the sleigh, which
had two sets of runners. My brother and cousin sat
at the back, one of the two young fellows driving
and the other running alongside with a lantern to
look out for dangerous spots on the ice. We drove
on Lake Joseph for some distance, and then turned
across the land on a rough track, which had been
used for hauling wood, in order to reach Muskoka
Lake, down which we were to travel. The road was
so bad, and the horses went so slowly, though the
driver kept calling out to them, " Hurrah ! Hurrah ! "
(a substitute for our English " gee up " which I had
not heard before), that Ben and Tony, feeling very
cold, dismounted and walked ahead. There was a
firm crust on the snow, which was hard enough in
most places to walk upon. Not for the horses,
though; if one of them chanced to step off the
narrow track down he went.

The horses were perfectly aware of this, too, and
jostled and pushed against each other on the icy
ridges, balancing themselves and picking their way
more like cats than horses. While I was watching

WINTER IN MUSKOKA. 213

them with amazement we met with our first adventure,
happily not a very serious one. Our scout with the
lantern, who was examining the ground some fifty
feet ahead, turned back and told his brother, the
driver, he would have to turn off the road, as there
was a big hole ahead. This he refused to do ; said
it was impossible to turn off— the horses' legs would
be cut to pieces with the sharp edges of the crust,
and that we must keep right on, no matter what was
ahead.

In a moment we were at the edge of the hole.
In plunged the horses, broke through the ice, and
were floundering in the water, the sleigh, meanwhile,
perched on the edge of the steep incline, ready to
fall upon them. This catastrophe the driver pluckily
prevented by lashing out furiously with his whip on
the backs of the poor horses, and sending forth at the
same time such a volley of " Hurrahs ! " that they
made one tremendous spurt, and jumped up the
opposite bank, we and the sleigh at the same moment
plunging forward into the hole they left vacant The
old boards cracked and crashed. The two upon
which I was seated parted company, letting me
partly through in a most uncomfortable fashion. For
a moment I thought my end had come, but only
for a moment, for with another sharp lash and a
frightful "Hurrah!" the horses leaped again, and
up the bank went the shattered sleigh, and we with it.
The driver, after turning round and asking if I was
14

214 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

hurt, calmly dismounted, and the two brothers pro-
ceeded to pull the sleigh together and patch it up in
the best way they could. Part of it, however, had to
be left on the roadside, and then once more we went
forward.

After journeying about a mile we came upon Ben
and Tony, sitting on a log waiting for us and won-
dering what had happened, for they knew nothing of
our mishap. They climbed in behind again, and
before long we saw Muskoka Lake, and very thankful
we were to get on to its comparatively smooth surface.

It seemed so queer to me to be trotting over the
water and passing the summer hotels — " Beaumaris,"
and others — which I had only seen previously from
the deck of the steamboats. When we neared the
Bracebridge River we had to turn aside and take to
the roads again, as we had heard the ice on the river
was not safe in many parts, the current was so swift,
and a team had broken through and been drowned
while driving on it two or three days before.

No sooner had we left the lake for the road than
our troubles commenced again. The ridges of ice
and snow were terrible, and to make matters worse a
howling wind and snowstorm came on. I had a big
hood to my cloak, which I pulled right over my head,
and my brother behind improvised a tent out of a big
rug which Tony had brought with him from England.
Under this they both lay, comfortably sheltered, and
making great fun of it all. Once we met another
team, and our driver thought we should have to turn

WINTER IN MUSKOKA. 215

off the road. Out I jumped in double quick time, for
I did not want a repetition of my former experience,
but happily the men found they could arrange it
without either team having to turn out, for there was
a small flat space near where the other driver could
stand with his horses while we passed by, so I thank-
fully scrambled back into my place. The last few
miles were the worst of all, up and down hills the
whole distance, and we not only got very cold, but
dreadfully hungry, too. I had proposed bringing
some lunch with us, but Ben had scoffed at the idea,
saying we should be in Bracebridge soon after nine
o'clock, and then get a good hot breakfast at the hotel,
instead of which it was half-past twelve when we
drove into the town. We had been eight hours and
a half doing the twenty-seven miles — rather slow
travelling for a cold day. Of course the delay meant
we had missed our train, which was due at eleven,
and we could get no farther until two o'clock next
morning, so we had to telegraph to Sue, who would
be expecting us in Toronto that afternoon.

Our driver put us down at the hotel, and the smell
of dinner saluted our nostrils as we entered the door,
so we hurried upstairs to take off our wraps and make
ourselves a little more presentable. Goodness ! what
a face I had when I looked in the glass, red, swollen,
stiff, I hardly knew myself. I hated going down to
the dining-room, but hunger proved stronger than
vanity, so down I went. When the bill of fare was

216 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

presented to my cousin he startled the waitress by
saying, " I'll take everything ; bring everything."
Oh, we did enjoy that dinner ! I forgot my red face,
and did my best to rival Tony in appetite. After we
were satisfied I went to my room, covered myself up
on the bed and fell fast asleep till after five o'clock ; then
I went out to take a look at the town, for I had never
been in Bracebridge before, though I had often been
up the river on the boats. It is a bright, lively place,
growing fast, and has some very good stores. I went
into two or three of them, and then back to the hotel
to tea. In the evening Ben and Tony wanted to visit
the skating-rink, so I went to spend an hour or two
with the clergyman and his wife, who were old friends
of our family.

We got back to the hotel shortly after eleven, and
the waiter promised to call us in time for the 2. 15
train. This meant only about two hours' sleep, so I
did not think it worth while undressing, and it was
lucky I didn't, for the waiter called my brother and
cousin, but forgot me ! So I was waked up by my
brother coming to see if I was ready. We were very
near the station, though, so we had plenty of time.
When we boarded the train we found it very crowded,
hot and stuffy. Ben and Tony walked through the
cars until they found one vacant seat for me by the
side of an elderly gentleman, and then they departed
to see if there were any more seats in the smoking-
car, my cousin insisting on leaving me his famous

WINTER IN MUSKOKA. 217

rug, much against my will, for I did not need it, hav-
ing my own warm cloak. After the train had started
I noticed how tired and worn the gentleman beside
me looked, and, feeling sorry for him, offered the use
of Tony's rug as a pillow. After a while, I suppose,
we must have gone to sleep, for my cousin says it was
so cold and uncomfortable in the smoking-car on the
hard wooden seats that he thought he would come
and see how I was getting on. He came upon me
soundly sleeping, and to his surprise and indignation,
beside me, on his rug — sleeping, too — another man,
actually another man ! He was kind enough not to
wake us, notwithstanding, which showed his self-con-
trol, but he was never tired of telling this story to our
friends in Toronto, and I got laughed at more than
enough.

But our journey comes to an end — the Union
Station at last — and we were soon on the street- cars
off to my sister's. As we turned the corner, of her
street we saw her on the verandah looking out for
us, and I need hardly say we were given a hearty
welcome.

CHAPTER XIX.

OUR SUPPLY BOATS— THE "CONSTANCE"
AND THE "MINK?

" Which do I like the best, the Constance or the MinkJ
I'm 'fraid I don't quite know, I'll have to stop and fink ;

I heard my mamma say last week to Auntie Nan,

I 1 get some things off each,' so just you try that plan.

I know the candy squares on board the Mink are grand,
And Constance man, he gives me apples in my hand ;
So guess I love 'em both, they bring us everyfink
To eat and drink and wear, the Constance and the Mink"

— " The Immortal William?

WHEN strangers have rented a summer cottage
and are coming up to the Muskoka Lakes
for the first time, the question they invariably
ask is, Where shall we obtain our supplies ? Where
shall we buy our meat, our butter, our groceries? Are
there any stores near we can go to ? And we reply
with a laugh, No ! there are no stores near, but the
stores come to you instead of you going to the stores ;
they float up to your very doors, bringing you "every-
thing under the sun," or, as that may be going too
far, we will say, " everything we mortals can possibly
need in Muskoka."

These supply boats are stores indeed ! veritably
218

OUR SUPPLY BOATS. 219

so. As closely packed from stem to stern as a bundle
of pressed hay, they contain a little of everything —
Eaton's in miniature — butcher, baker, and candle-
stick-maker combined.

The Constance and the Mink are the boats which
run exclusively on Lakes Joseph and Rosseau, the
Constance owned by Homer, of Rosseau, and the Mink
by Hanna, of Port Carling. I believe there are others
run on Muskoka Lake, but I don't know their names.
The fresh meat department on both the Constance
and the Mink is under separate management. The
butcher's shop in both cases is situated in the bow
of the boat, the grocery counter in the centre, and
the dry goods and fancy department more to the
stern.

These boats commence their trips as soon as the
ice breaks up in the spring, and continue running till
the ice forms thickly enough to stop them in the fall.
Their harvest time is in July and August, when
Muskoka is crowded with its summer visitors. At
that time they are busy indeed. No sooner is their
whistle heard in the distance than the people begin to
gather at the wharf, expectant. First there are the
children, clutching fast their five-cent pieces and
coppers, in a perfect fever of anxiety to exchange
them for the coveted candy ; then the anxious house-
keepers, scanning the bits of paper with their lists of
wants, to see if anything had been omitted ; the boys
stand waiting with their coal-oil cans and syrup or

220 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

vinegar jars to be replenished. Look out ! here comes
an active young fellow trundling a big wheelbarrow
laden with garden stuff, monster cabbages, bunches of
onions and lettuces, baskets of peas and beans, for all
is grist that comes to the supply boat's mill.

Here is a young girl coming in a boat with two or
three pails of summer apples, red and rosy ; there are
the little berry pickers, waiting to dispose of their
spoils. Now, picking their way daintily along, come
some of the fair tourist blossoms, with their attendant
butterflies, anxious to join the throng and see the
fun. It happens to be the Constance this time.

No sooner is the boat made fast than there is a
general rush for the interior, and this is the kind of
thing you hear from the white-aproned individual
behind the counter : " Well, Johnny, how much do
you want for those cabbages a dozen? Don't say
too much, now. Here's three left over from those I
bought last week," kicking out from a corner three
withered old heads. " No ! not lettuce this time, it's
a drug in the market. You can give 'em to your cow."
Then suddenly turning to an enquiring butterfly in
immaculate white ducks, " Any chocolate creams ?
You bet," thumping a box down on the counter.
" Best in Canada, fit for the Queen." " Seventy-five
cents." " Thank you." " Good mornjng, Mrs. Tidy,
what for you?" "Corset laces?" "Warranted to
stand any strain you can put on 'em without break-
ing?" "Butter?" " Yes, just out of the churn. Ten

OUR SUPPLY BOATS. 221

pounds, did you say, Mrs. Screw?" looking over with
a wink at a hatchet-faced woman who was gingerly
tasting every roll in the refrigerator. " What, only
one pound. Why, you could put that in your old
man's eye. Better say two. You'll be sorry if you
don't." "Here, you boys, don't be fingering those
plums. You're fetching all the bloom off, and then
who do you think'll buy em ?" " Sam," to one of the
other hands, "Put off those three bags of flour and
that bag of potatoes. Shoes don't fit ? " snatching a
pair from a boy, who was dangling them by the
strings. " Two sizes larger ? Will bring 'em Saturday.
Want your bill, Mrs. Centless ? Here it is, made up
to date. Sharp cheese, did you say, Mrs. Roberts —
try that, it would cut your tongue off." So it goes
on, the butcher, sawing and chopping away for very
life, handing out the beefsteak and joints. " No," he
says to one lady, " I can't give you a hind-quarter of
lamb to-day, you'll have to take the fore-quarter.
You had the hind-quarter last week. Everybody has
to take their turn, for we can't grow lambs with four
hind-quarters even in Muskoka."

At last everybody is served, and the laughing,
joking crowd step off the boat, the whistle gives a
toot, the engine starts and they are off to their next
stopping place, where the same scene, with sundry
variations, will be played over and over again till late
at night, for the hours these men on the supply

222 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

boats have to put in are very long. Just in the rush
of the season they scarcely get any rest at all, and it
is a wonder to me they keep so good-tempered and
jolly with all they have to encounter. They must
be thankful when Sunday comes round.

As regards the quality of the goods sold on these
boats and the prices charged, I believe they compare
favorably with any good general store in a country
town. They endeavor to carry on the boats the arti-
cles most in demand and for which there is the readi-
est sale, and if they do not happen to have what you
require they will procure it for you and bring it on
the next trip. They are also very willing to accom-
modate their customers by bringing boots or articles
of clothing on approbation, which is a source of great
convenience to both settler and tourist.

We have two visits a week from each boat at our
wharf during the summer months. After the tourists
have departed they come only once a week. Little
Willie is much interested in their visits. His mother
has forbidden him going on the wharf, as she is afraid
of him falling into the water ; but he comes down to
the shore as near as he can get, and there perches
himself up on a rock, where he watches the proceed-
ings and patiently awaits our return. I generally
bring him a banana, if there are any on the boat, for
he dotes on " nanas," as he calls them. But I must
tell you here that the "Immortal William" scorns baby
talk. He speaks distinctly and unusually well for a

OUR SUPPLY BOATS. 223

child of his age, only he has a habit of leaving out the
first syllable of long words, and says " randah " for
verandah, " frigerator " for refrigerator, " boggan " for
toboggan, and so on. Only last week he was talking
about his " boggan," which he left outside on the
" randah," and I, mildly correcting, said, " to-boggan,
Willie." "Toe-boggan!" he cried indignantly, his
blue eyes flashing with scorn, " mine is no toe-boggan,
but a real big-boggan. You can ride on it with all
your body, every bit of it. Toe-boggan, indeed ! "
and he rushed off to the '; randah " in a rage. So, you
see, we old aunties have to mind our p's and q's or we
shall get into trouble.

The Constance and the Mink will also carry a lim-
ited number of passengers on their daily trips around
the lakes. They have nice comfortable chairs on the
upper deck, and if the day is not too hot, there can
be nothing pleasanter than these excursions. They
call at a great many more places than the large steam-
ers, and they stay just long enough at each place for
the passengers to have a good look round or to go
ashore for a few minutes if they please. I think in
no other way can one get such a good view of the
pretty homes and private residences on the islands
and shores. About three years ago I went with a
party of friends on the Mink for the trip around Lake
Joseph. We had a lovely day. We made a regular
picnic of it, taking our provisions with us, the men on
the boat kindly giving us boiling water for our tea.

224

MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

We had with us Winnie and her family and my bro-
ther Ben's wife and children.

Winnie, who has learned a few wrinkles in the years
of her married life, brought her baby (the " Immortal
William ") enthroned in a large wicker clothes-basket
furnished with a couple of pillows and various small
articles to amuse the young gentleman on the way.
The boys bore it up on the deck and he sat or slept
in it the whole day, not being a mite of trouble to his
mother nor anyone else. I recommend this basket
business to some of you weary mothers, lugging
round your heavy babies whenever you go out for a
day's pleasure. Just try it and see if it does not
relieve your aching arms and prove a great success.
Going up the lake we called at Stanley House, and
they gave us half an hour there, so we climbed the
steps to see the hotel. I thought the situation most
lovely, the view on every side grand, but I think I
should be rather afraid to stay there if I had children,
for the rocks are so steep and it stands at such a
height above the water I should never be easy if they
were out of my sight.

We had an hour's grace at Port Cockburn, so we
had a nice time wandering round. I thought it rather
a pity that the front of the hotel should be so much
hidden from the lake by the trees. I think if the
house could be more plainly seen as the boat ap-
proaches, it would be far prettier ; but, of course, tastes
differ in this world.

OUR SUPPLY BOATS. 225

There is an American now building his house on
Lake Joseph in the midst of a dense bush, mostly
evergreens — hemlocks and pines. He is determined,
I hear, that not one shall be cut down ; he will hardly
let daylight in. His only outlook is to be a kind of
small arbor at the top of a large tree, to which you
climb by a ladder if you want to see the lake. I am
afraid if his wife is anything like our friend Mrs.
Carrington she won't see it very often ; but we will
hope she is nimble and thin.

At one place we called at on our return, a private
residence, there was a row of fair damsels standing on
the edge of the wharf in bathing costume chanting
one, two, three, before taking a dive all together into
the water. The arrival of our boat stopped the pretty
play, but we saw them resuming their fun before we
were out of sight.

The summer cottages were, many of them, very
pretty, and nearly all of them with gardens in front,
bright with blossoms, flowers evidently being culti-
vated in preference to vegetables by their fair
owners.

A settler who is the happy possessor of a green-
house told me that he is fairly besieged in the early
summer by ladies wanting geraniums and other plants
for their gardens. It is difficult to carry plants a long
distance, and there are generally so many necessary
things to be brought that flowers stand a poor chance
of being remembered.

226 MUSKOKA MEMORIES.

But to return to the supply boat. We were all
fairly astonished at the quantity and variety of the
stuff they sold on this trip. You see, their trade has
gradually grown to meet the demand, which is in-
creasing every year, and in consequence they seem
nearly always able to supply just what is needed.
Of course, the stock they carry varies considerably,
according to the season. I was amused to see on
board, when they made their last trip in the fall,
snow-shovels, shoe-packs, moccasins, ice-tongs, skates
— in fact, all we required for the cold winter, to last
until they visited us once more in the spring.

As we were nearing home on the day of our
excursion I was talking with my brother's wife (who
is the daughter of an old Muskoka settler) and we
were contrasting the present with the past. She
said how little the young ones growing up around us
can realize the hardships their fathers and grand-
fathers endured in the bygone days. She told me
that, when almost a child, she used to walk once a
week, all through the winter, across the lake to Port
Carling and carry the family groceries back with her.
Then I thought of my own dear father (who had all
his life, previous to coming to this country, been
accustomed to something so different), how he toiled
in clearing the farm, how he worked year after year,
living on the barest necessaries, enduring cold and
heat, for the sake of making himself a home. Should
we not cry shame on ourselves if we dare to grumble

OUR SUPPLY BOATS. 227

when we are enjoying in comfort the fruit of their
labors.

I will now close this chapter and with it these
rambling reminiscences, which I hope have not been
wholly without interest for my readers. The winter
is nearly over ; it is the first of March. A few more
weeks and the ice and snow will disappear, the reign
of old King Frost will be past, and we shall once
more hear with thankful hearts the whistle of the
Constance and the Mink.

5545 ^Javay, Ann
M8H3 Muskoka memories

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