ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH;
OR,
LIFE IN CANADA.
BY    SUSANNA           MOODIE.
1 sketch from Nature, and the picture's true;
Whatte'er the subject, whethcr grave or gay,
Painful experience in a distant land
Mado it mine own.
IN TWO PA R TS....PA R T 1.
NINTH THOUSAND.
GEORGE P. PUTNAM, 10 PARK PLACE.
hM.DCCC.LIV.








AGNES STRICKLAND,
Authcr of " The Lives of the  lueens of England,"
T IIS SIMPLE TRI B UT  OF AFFECTION
Ms  ebfrcateb,
BY  HER  SISTER,
SUSANNA MOODIE.








PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.
OUGHING IT IN THE BUSH is a work of so much
merit, the scenes and adventures it describes are
so full of freshness, truth and humour, the tone that
pervades its entertaining pages is so healthy, and the
lessons it teaches are so profitable, that it was thought
a pity for its wide circulation to be endangered by the
retention of any extraneous matter that would increase
its bulk and its cost without adding to its value. The
accomplished and heroic author will not, therefore, be
disposed to complain that her work should have undergone a careful excision of certain passages of a purely
personal or political character, which could have possessed no interest for the American reader, and the loss
of which will be compensated by the gain of a larger
audience than she could have otherwise hoped for.
Mrs. Moodie is a true heroine, and her simple narrative is a genuine romance, which has all the interest
of an imaginative creation.  Her sister, Miss Agnes




iv      PREFACE T THE AMfERICAN ETDITIOX.
Strickland, who has written the histories of the Queens
of England, has never recorded the life of a more noblehearted and heroic woman, one more devoted to her
duties, or more courageous in their fulfilment, than
will be found developed in the following pages.
The London Edition of " Roughing it in the Bush"
contains several small poems by Mrs. Moodie and her
husband, which have been excluded, because they
rather retarded the flow of the narrative, and did not
possess sufficient interest in themselves to serve as an
apology for their presence.
C. F. B.
NEW YORK, June, 1862.




ADVERTISEMENT TO THE LONDON EDITION.
IN justice to Mrs. Moodie, it is right to state that'
being still resident in the far-west of Canada, she
has not been able to superintend this work whilst passing through the press. From this circumstance some
verbal mistakes and oversights may have occurred, but
the greatest care has been taken to avoid them.
Although well known as an authoress in Canada,
and a member of a family which has enriched English
literature with works of very high popularity, Mrs.
Moodie is chiefly remembered in this country by a
volume of Poems published in 1831, under her maiden
name of Susanna Strickland. During the rebellion in
Canada, her loyal lyrics, prompted by strong affection for her native country, were circulated and sung
throughout the colony, and produced a great effect in
rousing an enthusiastic feeling in favour of law and
order. Another of her lyrical compositions, the charming Sleigh Song, printed in the present work, vol. i.




vi    AD VERTISSMENT TO TEE LON DON EDITIOR.
p. 210, has been extremely popular in Canada. The
warmth of feeling which beams through every line,
and the touching truthfulness of its details, won for it
a reception there as universal as it was favourable.
The glowing narrative of personal incident and suffering which she gives in the present work, will no
doubt attract general attention. It would be difficult
to point out delineations of fortitude under privation,
more interesting or more pathetic than those contained
in her second volume.
LONDON, January 22, 1852.




OONTE-TS OF 7-OL. I.
VISIT TO QROS8E ISLTE..    1
QuEBiE...........    12
OUR JOURNEY UP THE COUNTRY,.....  90
TOM WILSON'S EMIGRATION.,..    0
OUR FIRST SETTLEMENT, AND THE BORROWING SYSTEM,..  54
OLD SATAN AND TOM -ILSONS NOSE,..... 81
UNCLE JOE AND HIS FAMILY,..       92
JOHN MONAGIIAN,........  112
PHBE H —-, AND OUR SECOND MOVING,.. 128
BRIAN, THE STILL-UNTER,........  140
THE  CHARIVARI........      160
THE LAND-JOBBER,...             181








ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH.
CHAPTER I.
A VISIT TO GROSSE ISLE.
Alas! that man's stern spirit e'er should mar
A scene so pure-so exquisite as this.
rTHE dreadful cholera was depopulating Quebec and Montreal, when our ship cast anchor off Grosse Isle, on the
30th of August, 1832, and we were boarded a few minutes
after by the health-officers. One of these gentlemen-a little,
shrivelled-up Frenchman-from his solemn aspect and attenuated figure, would have made no bad representative of him
who sat upon the pale horse. He was the only grave Frenchman I had ever seen, and I naturally enough regarded him as
a phenomenon.   His companion-a fine-looking, fair-haired
Scotchman-though a little consequential in his manners,
looked like one who in his own person could combat and
vanquish all the evils which flesh is heir to. Such was the
contrast between these doctors, that they would have formed
very good emblems-one, of vigorous health; the other, of
hopeless decay.
Our captain, a rude, blunt, north-country sailor, possessing




2             R0OUGHING IT IN m2E BUSH.
certainly not more politeness than might be expected in a
bear, received his sprucely-dressed visitors on the deck, and,
with very little courtesy, abruptly bade them follow him
down into the cabin. The officials were no sooner seated,
than, glancing hastily round the place, they commenced the
following dialogue:"From what port, captain?"
Now the captain had a peculiar language of his own, from
which he commonly expunged all the connecting links. Small
words, such as "and" and "the," he contrived to dispense
with altogether.
"Scotland-sailed from port o' Leith, bound for Quebec,
Montreal-general cargo-seventy-two steerage, four cabin
passengers-brig ninety-two tons burden, crew eight hands."
Here he produced his credentials, and handed them to the
strangers. The Scotchman just glanced over the documents,
and laid them on the table.
" Had you a good passage out 2"
" Tedious, baffling winds, heavy fogs, detained three weeks
on Banks-foul weather making Gulf-short ofwater, people
out of provisions, steerage passengers starving."
"Any case of sickness or death on board T"
"All sound as crickets."
" Any births?" lisped the little Frenchman.
The captain screwed up his mouth, and after a moment's
ireflection he replied, "Births? Why, yes; now I think on't,
gentlemen, we had one female on board, who produced three
at a birth."
"That's uncommon," said the Scotch doctor, with an air of
lively curiosity. " Are the children alive and well? I should
like much to see them.'  He started up, and knocked his.
head, for he was very tall, against the ceiling. "Confound
your low cribs! I have nearly dashed out my brains."




A VISIT TO GROSSE ISLE.              8
"A hard task, that," looked the captain to me. He did
not speak, but I knew by his sarcastic grin what was uppermost in his thoughts. "The young ones all males-fine
thriving fellows. Step upon deck, Sam Frazer," turning to
his steward; "bring them down for doctors to see."  Sam
vanished, with a knowing wink to his superior, and quickly
returned, bearing in his arms three fat, chuckle-headed bullterriers; the sagacious mother following close at his heels,
and looked ready to give and take offence on the slightest
provocation.
"Here, gentlemen, are the babies," said Frazer, depositing
his burden on the floor. " They do credit to the nursing of
the brindled slut."
The old tar laughed, chuckled, and rubbed his hands in an
ecstacy of delight at the indignation and disappointment visible in the countenance of the Scotch Esculapius, who, angry
as he was, wisely held his tongue. Not so the Frenchman;
his rage scarcely knew bounds,-he danced in a state of most
ludicrous excitement,-he shook his fist at our rough captain,
and screamed at the top of his voice,
" Sacr6, you bete! You tink us dog, ven you try to pass
your puppies on-us for babies?"
" Hout, man, don't be angry," said the Scotchman, stifling
a laugh; " you see'tis only a joke!"
"Joke! me no understand such joke. Bete!" returned
the angry Frenchman, bestowing a savage kick on one of the
unoffending pups which was frisking about his feet. The
pup yelped; the slut barked and leaped furiously at the
offender, and was only kept from biting him by Sam, who
could scarcely hold her back for laughing; the captain was
uproarious; the offended Frenchman alone maintained a
severe and dignified aspect. The dogs were at length dismissed, and peace restored. After some further questioning




4            ROW UGIEI    IT iN THE BVSE.
from the officials, a bible was required for the captain to take
an oath.
"Confound it!" muttered the old sailor, tossing over the
papers in his desk; "; that scoundrel, Sam, always stows my
traps out of the way." Then taking up from the table a book
which I had been reading, which happened to be Voltaire's
History of Charles XII., he presented it, with as grave an air
as he could assume, to the Frenchman. Taking for granted
that it was the volume required, the little doctor was too
polite to open the book, the captain was duly sworn, and the
party returned to the deck. Here a new difficulty occurred,
which nearly ended in a serious quarrel. The gentlemen requested the old sailor to give them a few feet of old planking,
to repair some damage which their boat had sustained the day
before. This the captain could not'do. They seemed to
think his refusal intentional, and took it as a personal affront.
In no very gentle tones, they ordered him instantly to prepare
his boats, and put his passengers on shore.
"Stiff breeze-short sea," returned the bluff old seaman;
"great risk in making land-boats heavily laden with women
and children will be swamped. Not a soul goes on shore this
night."
"If you refuse to comply with our orders, we will report
you to the authorities."
"I know my duty-you stick to yours. When the wind
falls off, I'll see to it. Not a life shall be risked to please
you or your authorities."
He turned upon his heel, and the medical men left the
vessel in great disdain. We had every reason to be thankful
for the firmness displayed by our rough commander. That
same evening we saw eleven persons drowned, from another
vessel close beside us, while attempting to make the shore.
By daybreak all was hurry and confusion on board the




A VISIT TO GROSSS ISLE.               5
Anne. I watched boat after boat depart for the island, full
of people and goods, and envied them the glorious privilege
of once more standing firmly on the earth, after two long
months of rocking and rolling at sea. As cabin passengers,
we were not included in the general order of purification, but
were only obliged to send our servant, with the clothes and
bedding we had used during the voyage, on shore, to be
washed.
The ship was soon emptied of all her live cargo. My
husband went off with the boats, to reconnoitre the island,
and I was left alone with my baby, in the otherwise empty
vessel. Even Oscar, the captain's Scotch terrier, who had
formed a devoted attachment to me during the voyage, forgot
his allegiance, became possessed of the land mania, and was
away with the rest. With the most intense desire to go on
shore, I was doomed to look and long and envy every boatful
of emigrants that glided past. Nor was this all; the ship
was out of provisions, and I was condemned to undergo a
rigid fast until the return of the boat, when the captain had
promised a supply of fresh butter and bread. The vessel had
been nine weeks at sea; the poor steerage passengers for the
two last weeks had been out of food, and the captain had
been obliged to feed them from the ship's stores. The promised bread was to be obtained from a small steamboat, which
plied daily between Quebec and the island, transporting convalescent emigrants and their goods in her upward trip, and
provisions for the sick on her return. How I reckoned on
once more tasting bread and butter! The very thought of
the treat in store served to sharpen my appetite, and render
the long fast more irksome.
As the sun rose above the horizon, all these matter-of-fact
circumstances were gradually forgotten, and merged in the
surpassing grandeur of the scene that rose majestically before




6            WO UGHI1VG IT IV TiE B USH.
me. The previous day had been dark and stormy; and a
heavy fog had concealed the mountain chain, which forms the
stupendous background to this sublime view, entirely from
our sight. As the clouds rolled away from their gray, bald
brows, and cast into denser shadow the vast forest belt that
girdled them round, they loomed out like mighty giantsTitans of the earth, in all their rugged and awful beauty-a
thrill of wonder and delight pervaded my mind. The spectacle floated dimly on my sight-my eyes were blinded with
tears-blinded with the excess of beauty. I turned to the
right and to the left, I looked up and down the glorious river;
never had I beheld so many striking objects blended into one
mighty whole! Nature had lavished all her noblest features
in producing that enchanting scene.
The rocky isle in front, with its neat farm-houses at the
eastern point, and its high bluff at the western extremity,
crowned with the telegraph-the middle space occupied by
tents and sheds for the cholera patients, and its wooded shores
dotted over -with motley groups-added greatly to the picturesque effect of the land scene. Then the broad, glittering
river, covered with boats darting to and fro, conveying passengers from twenty-five vessels, of various size and tonnage,
which rode at anchor, with their flags flying from the mast-head,
gave an air of life and interest to the whole. Turning to the
south side of the St. Lawrence, I was not less struck with its
low fertile shores, white houses, and neat churches, whose
slender spires and bright tin roofs shone like silver as they
caught the first rays of the sun. As far as the eye could
reach, a line of white buildings extended along the bank;
their background formed by the purple hue of the dense, interminable forest. It was a scene unlike any I had ever
beheld, and to which Britain contains no parallel. Mackenzie,
an old Scotch dragoon, who was one of our passengers, when




A VISIT TO GiRlOSSli ISELL.          7
he rose in the morning, and saw the parish of St. Thomas for
the first time, exclaimed-" Weeel, it beats a'  Can thae
white clouts be a' houses? They look like claes hung out to
drie!" There was some truth in this odd comparison, and for
some minutes, I could scarcely convince myself that the white
patches scattered so thickly over the opposite shore could be
the dwellings of a busy, lively population.
" What sublime views of the north side of the river those
habitanls of St. Thomas must enjoy," thought I. Perhaps
familiarity with the scene has rendered them indifferent to its
astonishing beauty.
Eastward, the view down the St. Lawrence towards the
Gulf, is the finest of all, scarcely surpassed by any thing in the
world. Your eye follows the long range of lofty mountains
until their blue summits are blended and lost in the blue of
the sky. Some of these, partially cleared round the base, are
sprinkled over with neat cottages; and the green slopes that
spread around them are covered with flocks and herds. The
surface of the splendid river is diversified with islands of
every size and shape, some in wood, others partially cleared,
and adorned with orchards and white farm-houses. As the
early sun streamed upon the most prominent of these, leaving
the others in deep shade, the effect was strangely novel and
imposing.
My day-dreams were dispelled by the return of the boat,
which brought my husband and the captain from the island.
"No bread," said the latter, shaking his head; " you must
be content to starve a little longer. Provision-ship not in till
four o'clock."  My husband smiled at the look of blank disappointment with which I received these unwelcome tidings.
"Never mind, I have news which will comfort you.  The
officer who commands the station sent a note to me by an




8             RO UGHIGV IT IN TIIE BUSH.
orderly, inviting us to spend the afternoon with him. He
promises to show us every thing worthy of notice on the
island. Captain-    claims acquaintance with me; but I
have not the least recollection of him. Would you like to
go."
"Oh, by all means. I long to see the lovely island. It
looks a perfect paradise at this distance."
The rough sailor-captain screwed his mouth on one side,
and gave me one of his comical looks, but he said nothing
until he assisted in placing me and the baby in the boat.
" Don't be too sanguine, Mrs. Moodie; many things look
well at a distance which are bad enough when near."
It was four o'clock when we landed on the rocks, which
the rays of an intensely scorching sun had rendered so hot
that I could scarcely place my foot upon them. How the
people without shoes bore it, I cannot imagine. Never shall
I forget the extraordinary spectacle that met our sight the
moment we passed the low range of bushes which formed a
screen in front of the river. A crowd of many hundred Irish
emigrants had been landed during the present and former
day; and all this motley crew-men, women, and children,
who were not confined by sickness to the sheds (which greatly
resembled cattle-pens)-were employed in washing clothes,
or spreading them out on the rocks and bushes to dry. The
men and boys were in the water, while the women, with their
scanty garments tucked above their knees, were trampling
their bedding in tubs, or in holes in the rocks, which the retiring tide had left half full of water. Those who did not
possess washing-tubs, pails, or iron pots, or could not obtain
access to a hole in the rocks, were running to and fro, screaming and scolding in no measured terms. The confusion of
Babel was among them. All talkers and no hearers-each
shouting and yelling in his or her uncouth dialect, and all Re;




A VISIT 2O0 GROSS~E ISL..            9
cdmpanying their vociferations with violent and extraordinary
gestures, quite incomprehensible to the uninitiated. We were
literally stunned by the strife of tongues. I shrank, with feelings almost akin to fear, from the hard-featured, sun-burnt
harpies, as they elbowed rudely past me.
I have heard and read much of savages, and have since
seen, during my long residence in the bush, somewhat of un
civilized life; but the Indian is one of Nature's gentlemenhe never says or does a rude or vulgar thing. The vicious,
uneducated barbarians who form the surplus of over-populous
European countries, are far behind the wild man in delicacy
of feeling or natural courtesy. The people who covered the
island appeared perfectly destitute of shame, or even of a
sense of common decency. MAany were almost naked, still
more but partially clothed. We turned in disgust from the
revolting scene, but were unable to leave the spot until the
captain had satisfied a noisy group of his own people, who
were demanding a supply of stores.
And here I must observe that our passengers, who were
chiefly honest Scotch labourers and mechanics from the vicinity of Edinburgh, and who while on board ship had conducted
themselves with the greatest propriety, and appeared the most
quiet, orderly set of people in the world, no sooner set foot
upon the island than they became infected by the same spirit
of insubordination and misrule, and were just as insolent and
noisy as the rest. While our captain was vainly endeavouring to satisfy the unreasonable demands of his rebellious people, Moodie had discovered a woodland path that led to the
back of the island. Sheltered by some hazel-bushes from the
intense heat of the sun, we sat down by the cool, gushing
river, out of sight, but, alas! not out of hearing of the noisy,
riotous crowd. The rocky banks of the island were adorned
with beautiful evergreens, which sprang up spontaneously in




10           IW1OUGM!ILV I1' IV TCIE BUSH.
every nook and crevice. I remarked many of our favourite
garden shrubs among these wildings of nature. The fillagree,
with its narrow, dark glossy-green leaves; the privet, with its
modest white blossoms and purple berries; the lignum-vita,
with its strong resinous odour; the burnet-rose, and a great
variety of elegant unknowns.
Here, the shores of the island and mainland, receding from
each other, formed a small cove, overhung with lofty trees,
clothed from the base to the summit with wild vines, that
hung in graceful festoons from the topmost branches to the
water's edge. The dark shadows of the mountains, thrown
upon the water, as they towered to the height of some thousand feet above us, gave to the surface of the river an ebon
hue. The sunbeams, dancing through the quick, quivering
foliage, fell in stars of gold, or long lines of dazzling brightness, upon the deep black waters, producing the most novel
and beautiful effects.
We were now joined by the sergeant, who very kindly
brought us his capful of ripe plums and hazel-nuts, the growth
of the island; a joyful present, but marred by a note from
Captain -, who had found that he had been mistaken in
his supposed knowledge of us, and politely apologized for not
being allowed by the health-officers to receive any emigrant
beyond the bounds appointed for the performance of quaraatine. I was deeply disappointed, but my husband laughingly
told me that I had seen enough of the island; and turning to
the good-natured soldier, remarked, that "it could be no
easy task to keep such wild savages in order."
" You may well say that, sir-but our night scenes far
exceed those of the day. You would think they were incarnate devils; singing, drinking, dancing, shouting, and cutting
antics that would surprise the leader of a circus. They have
no shame-are under no restraint-nobody knows them here,




A VISIT TO GROSE ISLE.             11
and they think they can speak and act as they please; and
they are such thieves that they rob one another of the little
they possess. The healthy actually run the risk of taking the
cholera by robbing the sick. If you have not hired one or
two stout, honest fellows from among your fellow-passengers
to guard your clothes while they are drying, you will never
see half of them again. They are a sad set, sir, a sad set.
We could, perhaps, manage the men; but the women, sir —
the women! Oh, sir!"
Anxious as we were to return to the ship, we were obliged
to remain until sundown in our retired nook.  We were
hungry, tired, and out of spirits; the mosquitoes swarmed in
myriads around us, tormenting the poor baby, who, not at
all pleased with her first visit to the new world, filled the air
with cries; when the captain came to tell us, that the boat
was ready. It was a welcome sound. Forcing our way
once more through the still squabbling crowd, we gained the
landing-place. Here we encountered a boat, just landing a
fresh cargo of lively savages from the Emerald Isle. One
fellow, of gigantic proportions, whose long, tattered great-coat
just reached below the middle of his bare red legs, and, like
charity, hid the defects of his other garments, or perhaps
concealed his want of them, leaped upon the rocks, and flourishing aloft his shilelagh, bounded and capered like a wild
goat from his native mountains. " Whurrah! my boys!" he
cried, "Sure we'll all be jontlemen!"
"Pull away, my lads!" exclaimed our captain, and in a
few moments we were again on board. Thus ended my first
day's experience of the land of all our hopes.




12            RO UGHING IT IN THE BUS1I
CHAPTER II.
QUEBEC.
ON the 22d of September, the anchor was weighed, and we
bade a long farewell to Grosse Isle. As our vessel struck
into mid-channel, I cast a last lingering look at the beautiful
shores we were leaving. Cradled in the arms of the St. Lawrence, and basking in the bright rays of the morning sun, the
island and its sister group looked like a second Eden just
emerged from the waters of chaos. The day was warm, and
the cloudless heavens of that peculiar azure tint which gives
to the Canadian skies and waters a brilliancy unknown in
more northern latitudes. The air was pure and elastic, the
sun shone out with uncommon splendour, lighting up the
changing woods with a rich mellow colouring, composed of a
thousand brilliant and vivid dyes. The mighty river rolled
flashing and sparkling onward, impelled by a strong breeze,
that tipped its short rolling surges with a crest of snowy foam.
Never shall I forget that short voyage from Grosse Isle to
Quebec. I love to recall, after the lapse of so many years,
every object that awoke in my breast emotions of astonishment and delight. What wonderful combinations of beauty,
and grandeur, and power, at every winding of that noble
river!
Every perception of my mind became absorbed into the
one sense of seeing, when, upon rounding Point Levi, we cast
anchor before Quebec. What a scene!-Can the world pro



Q uEBEC.                    13
duce such another?  Edinburgh had been the beau ideal to
me of all that was beautiful in Nature-a vision of the
northern Highlands had haunted my dreams across the Atlantic; but all these past recollections faded before the present
of Quebec. Nature has lavished all her grandest elements to
form this astonishing panorama.  There frowns the cloudcapped mountain, and below, the cataract foams and thunders;
wood, and rock, and river combine to lend their aid in making
the picture perfect, and worthy of its Divine Originator.
The precipitous bank upon which the city lies piled, reflected in the still, deep waters at its base, greatly enhances
the romantic beauty of the situation. The mellow and serene
glow of the autumnal day harmonized so perfectly with the
solemn grandeur of the scene around me, and sank so silently
and deeply into my soul, that my spirit fell prostrate before
it, and I melted involuntarily into tears.
The pleasure we experienced upon our first glance at
Quebec was greatly damped by the sad conviction that the
cholera raged within her walls, while the almost ceaseless
tolling of bells proclaimed a mournful tale of woe and death.
Scarcely a person visited the vessel who was not in black, or
who spoke not in tones of subdued grief. They advised us
not to go on shore if we valued our lives, as strangers most
commonly fell the first victims to the fatal malady. This
was to me a severe disappointment, who felt an intense desire to climb to the crown of the rock, and survey the noble
landscape at my feet. I yielded at last to the wishes of my
husband, who did not himself resist the temptation in his own
person, and endeavoured to content myself with the means
of enjoyment placed within my reach. My eyes were never
tired of wandering over the scene before me.
It is curious to observe how differently the objects which
call forth intense admiration in some minds will affect others.




14'ROUGHIING IT liN THE B USI.
The Scotch dragoon, Mackenzie, seeing me look long and intently at the distant'Falls of Montmorency, dryly observed,
"It may be a' vera fine; but it looks na' better to my
thinken than hanks o' white'wo hung out o'er the bushes."
" Weel," cried another, " thae fa's are just bonnie;'tis a
Draw land, nae doubt; but no' just so braw as auld Scotland."
"Hout, man! hauld your clavers, we shall a' be lairds
here," said a third; " and ye maun wait a muehtie time before
they wad think aucht of you at hame.
I was not a little amused at the extravagant expectations
entertained by some of our steerage passengers. The sight
of the Canadian shores had changed them into persons of
great consequence. The poorest and the worst-dressed, the
least-deserving and the most repulsive in mind and morals,
exhibited most disgusting traits of self-importance. Vanity
and presumption seemed to possess them altogether. They
talked loudly of the rank and wealth of their connections at
home, and lamented the great sacrifices they had made in
order to join brothers and cousins who had foolishly settled
in this beggarly wooden country. Girls, who were scarcely
able to wash a floor decently, talked of service with contempt,
unless tempted to change their resolution by the offer of
twelve dollars a month. To endeavour to undeceive them
was a useless and ungracious task. After having tried it with
several without success, I left it to time and bitter experience
to restore them to their sober senses. In spite of the remonstrances of the captain, and the dread of the cholera, they all
rushed on shore to inspect the land of Goshen, and to endeavour to realize their absurd anticipations.
We were favoured, a few minutes after our arrival, with
another visit from the health-oficers; but in this instance both
the gentlemen were Canadians. Grave, melancholy-looking
men, who talked much and ominously of the prevailing dis



QU -BE.                      15
order, and the impassibility of strangers escaping from its
fearful ravages. This was not very consoling, and served to
depress the cheerful tone of mind which, after all, is one of
the best antidotes against this awful scourge.  The cabin
seemed to lighten, and the air to circulate more freely, after
the departure of these professional ravens. The captain, as
if by instinct, took an additional glass of grog, to shake off the
sepulchral gloom their presence had inspired.
The visit of the doctors was followed by that of two of the
officials of the Customs;-vulgar, illiterate men, who, seating
themselves at the cabin table, with a familiar nod to the
captain, and a blank stare at us, commenced the following
dialogue:
Custom-house officer (after making inquiries as to the
general cargo of the vessel):-" Any good brandy on board,
captain?"
Captain (gruffy): "Yes."
Officer: "Best remedy for the cholera known. The only
one the doctors can depend upon."
Captain (taking the hintt): "Gentlemen, I'll send you up a
dozen bottles this afternoon."
Officer: " Oh, thank you. We are sure to get it genuine
from you. Any Edinburgh ale in your freight 2"
Captain (with a slight shrug): "A few hundreds in cases.
I'll send you a dozen with the brandy."
Both: "Capital!"
First officer: " Any short, large-bowled, Scotch pipes, with
metallic lids?"
Captain (quite impatiently): "Yes, yes; I'll send you
some to smoke, with the brandy.-What else?"
Officer: "We will now proceed to business."
My readers would have laughed, as I did, could they have
seen how doggedly the old man shook his fist after these wor




16           ie0 UJHIVGY IT IN THE tBlSIL
thies as they left the vessel. "Scoundrels!" he muttered to
himself; and then turning to me, " They rob us in this barefaced manner, and we dare not resist or complain, for fear of
the trouble they can put us to. If I had those villains at sea,
I'd give them a taste of brandy and ale that they would not
relish."
Towards night, most of the steerage passengers returned,
greatly dissatisfied with their first visit to the city, which they
declared to be a filthy hole, that looked a great deal better
from the ship's side than it did on shore. A dark and starless
night closed in, accompanied by cold winds and drizzling rain.
We seemed to have made a sudden leap from the torrid to
the frigid zone. Two hours before, my light summer clothing
was almost insupportable, and now a heavy and well-lined
plaid formed but an insufficient screen from, the inclemency
of the weather. After watching for some time the singular
effect produced by the lights in the town reflected in the
water, and weary with a long day of anticipation and excitement, I made up my mind to leave the deck and retire to
rest. I had just settled down my baby in her berth, when
the vessel struck, with a sudden crash that sent a shiver
through her whole frame. Alarmed, but not aware of the
real danger that hung over us, I groped my way to the cabin,
and thence ascended to the deck.
Here a scene of confusion prevailed that baffles description.
By some strange fatality, the Horsley Hill had changed her
position, and ran foul of us in the dark. The Anne was a
small brig, and her unlucky neighbour a heavy, three-masted
vessel, with three hundred Irish emigrants on board; and as
her bowsprit was directly across the bows of the Anne, and
she anchored, and unable to free herself from the deadly
embrace, there was no small danger of the poor brig going
down in the unequal struggle.




QUBEn  t                     17
Unable to comprehend what was going on, I raised my
head above the companion ladder, just at the critical moment
when the vessels were grappled together. The shrieks of the
women, the shouts and oaths of the men, and the barking of
the dogs in either ship, aided the dense darkness of the night
in producing a most awful and stunning effect. The captain
was raging like a chafed bull, in the grasp of several frantic
women, who were clinging, shrieking, to his knees.
With great difficulty I persuaded the women to accompany
me below. The mate hurried off with the cabin light upon
the deck, and we were left in total darkness to await the
result.
When tranquillity was restored, fatigued both in mind and
body, I sunk into a profound sleep, and did not awake until
the sun had risen high above the wave-encircled fortress of
Quebec. The stormy clouds had all dispersed during the
night; the air was clear and balmy; the giant hills were
robed in a blue, soft mist, which rolled around them in fleecy
volumes. As the beams of the sun penetrated their shadowy
folds, they gradually dray up like a curtain, and dissolved
like wreaths of smoke inton4he clear air.
During the day, many' of our passengers took their departure; tired of the close confinement of the ship, and the
long voyage, they were too impatient to remain on board
until we reached Montreal. The mechanics obtained instant
employment, and the girls who were old enough to work,
procured situations as servants in the city. Before night, our
numbers were greatly reduced. The old dragoon and his
family, two Scotch fiddlers of the name of Duncan, a Highlander called Tam Grant, and his wife and little son, and our
own party, were alkthat remained of the seventy-two passengers that left the Port of Leith in the brig Anne.
In spite of the earnest entreaties of his young wife, the said




18           OR 0UGHIIG   I IT I TIE B USE.
Tam Grant, who was the most mercurial fellow in the world,
would insist upon going on shore to see all the lions of the
place. "Ah, Tam! Tam! ye will die o' the cholera," cried
the weeping Maggie. " My heart will brak if ye dinna bide
wi' me an' the bairnie."  Tam was as deaf as Ailsa Craig.
Regardless of tears and entreaties, he jumped into the boat,
like a wilful man as he was, and my husband went with him.
Fortunately for me, the latter returned safe to the vessel, inl
time to proceed with her to Montreal, in tow of the noble
steamer British America; but Tam, the volatile Tam, was
missing. During the reign of the cholera, what at another
time would have appeared but a trifling incident, was now
invested with doubt and terror. The distress of the poor
wife knew no bounds. I think I see her now, as I saw her
then, sitting upon the floor of the deck, her head buried between her knees, rocking herself to and fro, and weeping in
the utter abandonment of her grief. "He is dead! he is
dead! My dear, dear Tam! The pestilence has seized
upon him; and I and the puir bairn are left alone in the
strange land." All attempts at consolation were useless;
she obstinately refused to listen to probabilities, or to be
comforted. All through the night I heard her deep and
bitter sobs, and the oft-repeated name of him that she had
lost.
The sun was sinking over the plague-stricken city, gilding
the changing woods and mountain-peaks with ruddy light;
the river mirrored back the gorgeous sky, and moved in billows of liquid gold; the very air seemed lighted up with
heavenly fires, and sparkled with myriads of luminous particles, as I gazed my last upon that beautiful scene.
The tow-line was now attached from our ship to the British
America, and in company with two other vessels, we followed
fast in her foaming wake. Day lingered on the horizon just




Q UEBEC.                    19
long enough to enable me to examine, with deep interest, the
rocky heights of Abraham, the scene of our immortal Wolfe's
victory and death; and when the twilight faded into night,
the moon arose in solemn beauty, and cast mysterious gleams
upon the strange, stern landscape. The wide river, flowing
rapidly between its rugged banks, rolled in inky blackness
beneath the overshadowing crags; while the waves in midchannel flashed along in dazzling light, rendered more intense
by the surrounding darkness. In this luminous track the
huge steamer glided majestically forward, flinging showers of
red earth-stars from the funnel into the clear air, and looking
like some fiery demon of the night enveloped in smoke and
flame.
The lofty groves of pine frowned down in hearse-like
gloom upon the mighty river, and the deep stillness of the
night, broken alone by its hoarse wailings, filled my mind
with sad forebodings,-alas! too prophetic of the future.
From these sad reveries I was roused by the hoarse notes
of the bagpipe. That well-known sound brought every
Scotchman upon deck, and set every limb in motion on the
decks of the other vessels. Determined not to be outdone,
our fiddlers took up the strain, and a lively contest ensued
between the rival musicians, which continued during the
greater part of the night. The shouts of noisy revelry were
in no way congenial to my feelings. Nothing tends so much
to increase our melancholy as merry music when the heart is
sad; and I left the scene with eyes brimful of tears, and my
mind painfully agitated by sorrowful recollections and vain
regrets.




20            ROUGHImG IT IN THE B USH
CHAPTER III
OUR JOURNEY UP THE COUNTRY.
OF Montreal I can say but little. The cholera was at its
height, and the fear of infection, which increased the nearer
we approached its shores, cast a gloom over the scene, and
prevented us from exploring its infected streets. That the
feelings of all on board very nearly resembled our own might
be read in the anxious faces of both passengers and crew.
Qur captain, who had never before hinted that he entertained
any apprehensions on the subject, now confided to us his conviction that he should never quit the city alive: "This cursed
cholera! Left it in Russia-found it on my return to Leithmeets me again in Canada. No escape the third time."
Montreal from the river wears a pleasing aspect, but it
lacks the grandeur, the stern sublimity of Quebec. The fine
mountain that forms the background to the city, the Island of
St. Helens in front, and the junction of the St. Lawrence and
the Ottawa,-which run side by side, their respective boundaries only marked by a long ripple of white foam, and the
darker blue tint of the former river,-constitute the most
remarkable features in the landscape. The town itself was,
at that period, dirty and ill-paved; and the opening of all
the sewers, in order to purify the place and stop the ravages
of the pestilence, rendered the public thoroughfares almost
impassable, and loaded the air with intolerable effluvia, more
likely to produce than stay the course of the plague, the




O6U'? JOU -lJElY UP 1TVSW COUr~Y.o      21
violence of which had, in all probability, been increased by
these long-neglected receptacles of uncleanliness. The dismal
stories told us by the excise-officer who came to inspect the
unloading of the vessel, of the frightful ravages of the cholera,
by no means increased our desire to go on shore.
"It will be a miracle if you escape," he said. "Hundreds
of emigrants die daily; and if Stephen Ayres had not providentially come among us, not a soul would have been alive at
this moment in Montreal."
" And who is Stephen Ayres "9 said I.
" God only knows," was the grave reply. "There was a
man sent from heaven, and his name was John."
" But I thought this man was called Stephen?"
6 Ay, so he calls himself; but'tis certain that he is not of
the earth. Flesh and blood could never do what he has done,
-the hand of God is in it. Besides, no one knows who he
is, or whence he comes. When the cholera was at the worst,
and the hearts of all men stood still with fear, and our doctors
could do nothing to stop its progress, this man, or angel, or
saint, suddenly made his appearance in our streets. He came
in great humility, seated in an ox-cart, and drawn by two lean
oxen and a rope harness. Only think of that! Such a man
in an old ox-cart, drawn by rope harness! The thing itself
was a miracle. He made no parade about what he could do,
but only fixed up a plain pasteboard notice, informing the
public that he possessed an infallible remedy for the cholera,
and would engage to cure all who sent for him."
" And was he successful?"
" Successful! It beats all belief; and his remedy so simple! For some days we all took him for a quack, and would
have no faith in him at all, although he performed some wonderful cures upon poor folks, who could not afford to send for
the doctor. The Indian village was attacked by the disease,




22            R0 UGHINGi& I L  THE B US H 
and he went out to them, and restored upwards of a hundred
of the Indians to perfect health. They took the old lean oxen
out of the cart, and drew him back to Montreal in triumph.
This'stablished him at once, and in a few days' time he made
a fortune. The very doctors sent for him to cure them; and
it is to be hoped that in a few days he will banish the cholera
from the city."
Do you know his famous remedy?"
" Do I not?-Did he not cure me when I was at the last
gasp? Why, he makes no secret of it. It is all drawn from
the maple-tree. First he rubs the patient all over with an
ointment, made of hog's lard and maple-sugar and ashes, fiom
the maple-tree; and he gives him a hot draught of maplesugar and ley,;which throws him into a violent perspiration.
In about an hour the cramps subside; he falls into a quiet
sleep, and when he awakes he is perfectly restored to health."
Such were our first tidings of Stephen Ayres, the cholera
doctor, who is universally believed to have effected some
wonderful cures. He obtained a wide celebrity throughout
the colony."
The day of our arrival in the port of Montreal was spent
in packing and preparing for our long journey up the country.
At sunset, I went upon deck to enjoy the refreshing breeze
that swept from the river. The evening was delightful; the
white tents of the soldiers on the Island of St. Helens glittered
in the beams of the sun, and the bugle-call, wafted over the
waters, sounded so cheery and inspiring, that it banished all
fears of the cholera, and, with fear, the heavy gloom that had
clouded my mind since we left Quebec. I could once more
* A friend of mine, il this town, has an original portrait of this notable
empiric-this man sent from heaven. The face is rather handsome, but
has a keen, designing expression, and is evidently that of an American,
from its complexion and features.




OUR JOTURElY UP TE COUNTRY.              23
hold sweet converse with nature, and enjoy the soft loveliness
of the rich aind harmonious scene,
In the morning we were obliged to visit the city to make
the necessary- arrangements for our upward journey. The
day was intensely- hot. A bank of thundericlouds lo   ered
heavily above the m.ountain, and the close, dusty streets were
silent, and nearly deserted..Iere and there -ight be seen a
group of anxious-looking, care-worn, sickly emigrants, seated
against a wall among their packages, and sadly ruminating
upon their future prospects.
The sullen toll of the death-bell, the exposure of ready-made
coffins in the undertakers' windows, and the oft-recurring
notice placarded on the walls, of funerals furnished at such
and such a place, at cheapest rate and shortest notice, painl
fully reminded us, at every turning of.the street, that death
was every where-perhaps lurking in our very path; we felt
no desire to examine the beauties of the place. With this
ominous feeling pervading our minds, public buildings possessed few attractions, and we determined to make our stay
as short as possible. Compared with the infected city, our
ship appeared an ark of safety, and we returned to it with joy
and confidence, too soon to-be destroyed. We had scarcely
re-entered our cabin, -lwen tidings were brought to us that the
cholera had made its appearance: a brother of the captain
had been attacked.
It was advisable that we should leave the vessel immediately before the intelligence could reach the health-officers
A few minutes sufficed to make the necessary preparations;
and in less than half-an-hour we found ourselves occupying
comfortable apartments in Goodenough's hotel; and our passage taken in the stage for the following morning.
The transition was like a dream. The change from the
close, rank ship, to large, airy, well-furnished rooms and clean




24            Ro VGAZXZ   IT IN ITIHE BUSA.
attendants, was a luxury we should have enjoyed had not the
dread of the cholera involved all things around us in gloom
and apprehension. No one spoke upon the subject; and yet
it was evident that it was uppermost in the thoughts of all.
Several emigrants had died of the terrible disease during the
week, beneath the very roof that sheltered us, and its ravages.
we were told, had extended to the country as far as Kingston; so that it was still to be the phantom of our coming
journey, if we were fortunate enough to escape from its headquarters.
At six o'clock the following morning, we took our places
in the coach for Lachine, and our fears of the plague greatly
diminished as we left the spires of Montreal in the distance.
The journey from  Montreal westward has been so well
described by many gifted pens, that I shall say little about it.
The banks of the St. Lawrence are picturesque and beautiful,
particularly in those spots where there is a good view of the
American side. The neat farm-houses looked to me, whose
eyes had been so long accustomed to the watery waste, homes
of beauty and happiness; and the splendid orchards, the trees
at that season of the year being loaded with ripening fruit of
all hues, were refreshing and delicious.
My partiality for the apples was regarded by a fellowtraveller with a species of horror. " Touch them not, if you
value your life."  Every draught of fresh air and water
inspired me with renewed health and spirits, and I disregarded
the well-meant advice; the gentleman who gave it had just
recovered from the terrible disease.  Ie was a middle-aged
m     ^jrmer from the Upper Province, Canadian born. He
ha   I'ted Montreal on business for the first time. "Well,
sir,' he }aid, in answer to some questions put to him by my
husband respecting the disease, " I can tell you what it is; a
man smitten with the cholera stares death right in the face;




OWU JOURiVNEY U'P 1HlE CcOUNTRVi'f Y.    25
and the torment he is suffering is so great that he would
gladly die to get rid of it."
" You were fortunate, C —, to escape," said a backwoods
settler, who occupied the opposite seat; "many a younger
man has died of it."
" Ay; but I believe I never should have taken it had it
not been for some things they gave me for supper at the hotel;
oysters, they called them, oysters; they were alive! I was
once persuaded by a. friend to eat them, and I liked them
well enough at the time. But I declare to you that I felt them
crawling over one another in my stomach all night. The next
morning I was seized with the cholera."
" Did you swallow them whole, C —?" said the former
spokesman, who seemed highly tickled about the evil doings
of the oysters.
"To be sure. I tell you, the creatures were alive. You
put them on your tongue, and I'll be bound you'll -be glad to
let them slip down as fast as you can."
"No wonder you had the cholera," said the backwoodsman,
"you deserved it for your barbarity. If I had a good plate
of oysters here, I'd teach you the way to eat them."
Our journey during the first day was performed partly b.y
coach, partly by steam. It was nine o'clock in the evening
when we landed at Cornwall, and took coach for Prescott.
The country through which we passed appeared beautiful in
the clear light of the moon; but the air was cold, and slightly
sharpened by frost. This seemed strange to me in the early
part of September, but it is very common in Canada. Nine
passengers were closely packed into our narrow vehicle. but
the sides being of canvas, and the open space Allowed for
windows unglazed, I shivered with cold, which amounted to
a state of suffering when the day broke, and we appioached
the little -illage of Mlatilda:. It was unanimously voted by all
9~~~~




26            POUGHIXG IT INr THY   B USI.
hands that we should stop and breakfast at a small inn by
the roadside, and warm   ourselves before proceeding to
Prescott.
The people in the tavern were not stirring, and it was some
time before an old white-headed man unclosed the door, and
showed us into a room, redolent with fumes of tobacco, and
darkened by paper blinds.  I asked him if he would allow
me to take myi infant into a room with a fire.
"I guess it was a pretty considerable cold night for the
like of her," said he. " Come, I'll show you to the kitche-n;
there's always a fire there."  I cheerfully followed, accompanied by our servant.
Our entrance was uneexpected, and by no means agreeable
to the persons we found there. A half-clothed, red-haired
Irish servant was upon her knees, kindling up the fire; and ai
long, thin woman, with a sharp face, and an eye like a black
snake, was Just emerging from a bed in the corner. I.'fWe soon
discovered this apparition to be the mistress of the house.
"The people can't come in here!" she screamed in a shrill
voice, darting daggers at the poor old man.
" Sure there's a baby, and the two women critters are perished with cold," pleaded the good old man.
""What's that to ne? They have no business in my
kitchen."
"Now, Almira, do hold on. It's the coach has stopped to
breakfast with us; and you know we don't often get the
chance."
All this time the fair Almira was dressing as fast as she
couland eyeing her unwelcome female guests, as we stood
shi/  -g over the fire.
"Breakfast!" she muttered, "what can we give them to
eat? They pass our door a thousand lles without any one
alighting; and now, when we are out of every thing, they must




O UR, JO UPRINEY UP TJ1  CO OUiTY7      2 7
stop and order breakfast at such an unseasonable hour. How
many are there of you?" turning fiercely to me.
"Nine," I answered, laconically, continuing to chafe the
cold hands and feet of the child.
" Nine! That bit of beef will be nothing cut into steaks
for nine. What's to be done, Joe?" (to the old man.)
" Eggs and halm, summat of that dried venison, and pumpkin
pie," responded the aide-ce-campl, thoughtfully.'" I don't know
of any other fixings."
" Bestir yourself, then, and lay out the table, for the coach
can't stay long," cried the virago, seizing a frying-pan from
the wall, and preparing it for the reception of the eggs and
ham. " I must have the fire to myself.  People can't come
crowding here, when I have to fix breakfast for nine; partilc
larly when there is a good room elsewhere provided for their
accommodation."   I took the hint, and retreated to the par
lour, where I found the rest of the passengers walking to and
fro, and impatiently awaiting the advent of the breakfast.
To do Almira justice, she prepared from her scanty maderials a very substantial breakfast in an incredibly short time:
for which she charged us a quarter of a dollar per head.
AtlPrescott we embarked on board a fine new steamboatl,
Willicoa.V., crowded with Irish emigrants, proceeding to
Cobourg and Toronto.
While pacing the deck, my husband was greatly struck by
the appearance of a middle-aged man and his wife, -who sat
apart from the rest, and seemed struggling with intense grief,
which, in spite of all their efiorts at concealment, was strongly
impressed upon their features. Some time after, I fell into
conversation with the woman,.from whom I learned their
little history. The husband was factor to a Scotch gentleman, of large landed property, who had employed him to
visit Canada, and report the capabilities of the country, prior




28             OUGaIIxVG IT IN THE B USE.
to his investing a large sum of money in wild lands. The expenses of their voyage had been paid, and every thing up to
that morning had prospered with them. They had been
blessed with a speedy passage, and were greatly pleased with
the country and the people; but of what avail was all this?
Their only son, a fine lad of fourteen, had died that day of the
cholera, and all their hopes of the future were buried in his
grave. For his sake they had sought a home in this far land;
and here, at the very onset of their new career, the fell disease had taken him from them for ever,-here, where, in
such a crowd, the poor heart-broken mother could not even
indulge her natural grief!
"Ah, for a place where I might greet!" she said; " it would
relieve the burning weight at my heart. But with sae many
strange eyes glowering upon me, I tak' shame to mysel' to
greet."
"Ah, Jeannie, my puir woman," said the husband, grasping her hand, " ye maun bear up;'tis God's will; an sinfu'
creatures like us mauna repine. But oh, madam," turning to
me, " we have sair hearts the day!"
At Brockville we took in a party of ladies, which somewhat relieved the monotony of the cabin, and I was amused
by listening to their lively prattle, and the little gossip with
which they strove to while away the tedium of the voyage.
The day was too stormy to go upon deck,-thunder and
lightning, accompanied with torrents of rain. Amid the confusion of elements, I tried to get a peep at the Lake of the
Thousand Isles; but the driving storm blended all objects
into one, and I returned wet and disappointed to my berth.
We passed Kingston at midnight, and lost all our lady passengers but two. The gale continued until daybreak, and
noise and confusion prevailed all night, which was greatly increased by the uproarious conduct of a wild Irish emigrant,




OUR JOURItNEY UP rTHI    COUnrI T.     29
who thought fit to make his bed upon the mat before the
cabin door. He sang, he shouted, he harangued his countrymen on the political state of the Emerald Isle, in a style
which was loud if not eloquent. Sleep was impossible, whilst
his stentorian lungs continued to pour forth torrents of unmeaning sound.
Our Dutch stewardess was highly enraged.   His conduct, she said, "was perfectly ondacent."  She opened the
door, and bestowing upon him several kicks, bade him get
away " out of that," or she would complain to the captain.
In answer to this remonstrance, he caught her by the foot,
and pulled her down. Then waving the tattered remains of
his straw hat in the air, he shouted with an air of triumph,
" Git out wid you. you ould witch! Shure the ladies, the
purty darlints, never sent you wid that' ugly message to Pat,'
who loves them so intirely that he manes to kape watch
over them through the blessed night."  Then making a ludicrous bow, he continued, "Ladies, I'm at your sarvice: I only
wish I could get a dispensation from the Pope, and I'd marry
yeas all."  The stewardess bolted.the door, and the mad fellow kept up such a racket that we all wished him at the bottom of the Ontario.
The following day.was wet and gloomy. The storm had
protracted the length of our voyage for several hours, and it
was midnight when we landed at Cobourg.




30            ROUGHING IT I. THIE BUSH.
CHAPTER IV.
TOM WILSON S EMIGRATION.
Of all odd fellows, this fellow was the oddest. I have seen many strange fish
in my days, but I never met with his equal."
A BOUT a month previous to our emigration to Canada, my
husband said to me, "You need not expect me home
to dinner to-day; I am going with my friend Wilson to
Y     to hear Mr. C — lecture upon emigration to Canada.
He has just returned from the North American provinces,
and his lectures are attended by vast numbers of persons who
are anxious. to obtain information on the subject. I got a note
fiom your fiiend B —  this morning, begging me to come
over and listen to his palaver; and as Wilson thinks of emigrating in the spring, he will be my walking companion."
"Tomn Wilson going to Canada!" said I, as the door closed
on my better-half. " What a backwoodsman he will make!
What; a loss to the single ladies of S -! What will they
do without him at their balls and picnics'"
One of my sisters, who was writing at a table near me.
was highly amused at this unexpected announcement. She
fell back in her chair and indulged in a long and hearty laugh.
I am certain that most of my readers would have joined in
her laugh had they known the object which provoked her
mirth. " Poor Tom is such a dreamer," said my sister, " it
would be an act of charity in Moodie to persuade him from




TOI WTILSON'S ELI:]GRATIYOV.          3
undertaking such a wild-goose chase; only that 1 fancy my
good brother is possessed with the same mania."' Nay, God forbid!" said I.' I hope this MIr. -, with
the unpronounceable name, will disgust them with his eloquence; for B  -- writes me word, in his droll way, that he
is a coarse, vulgar fellow, and lacks the dignity of a bear.
Oh! I am certain they will return, quite sickened with the
Canadian project."  Thus I laid the flattering unction to my
soul, little dreaming that I and mine should share inl the
strange adventures of this oddest of all odd creatures.
It might be made a subject of curious inquiry to those who
delight in human absurdities, if ever there were a character
drawn in works of fiction so extravagantly ridiculous as some
which daily experience presents to our view. We have encountered people in the broad thoroughfares of life more eccentric than ever we read of in books; people who, if all their
foolish sayings and doings were duly recorded, would vie with
the drollest creations of Hood, or George Colman, and put to
shame the flights of Baron AMunchausen. Not that Tom Wilson was a romancer; oh, no! He was the very prose of
prose, a man in a mist, who seemed -afraid of moving about
for fear of knocking his head against a tree, and finding a halter suspended to its branches-a man as helpless and as indolent as a baby.
Mr. Thomas, or Tom Wilson, as he was familiarly called
by all his friends and acquaintances, was the son of a gentle
man, who once possessed a large landed property in the neighbourhood; but an extravagant and profligate expenditure of
the income which he derived from a fine estate which had
descended fromn father to son through many generations, had
greatly relduced the circumstances of the elder WNilson. Still,
his famlily held a certain rank and standing in their native
countv, of' which his evil courses, bad as they were, could not




32            RO UGHING IT IN THE lBUSE.
wholly deprive them. The young people-and a very large
family they made of sons and daughters, twelve in numberwere objects of interest and commiseration to all who knew
them, while the worthless father was justly held in contempt
and detestation. Our hero was the youngest of the six sons;
and from his childhood he was famous for his nothing-to-doishness. He was too indolent to engage heart and soul in the
manly sports of his comrades; and he never thought it necessary to commence learning his lessons until the school had
been in an hour. As he grew up to man's estate, he might
be seen dawdling about in a black frock-coat, jean trowsers,
and white kid gloves, making lazy bows to the pretty girls of
his acquaintance; or dressed in a green shooting-jacket, with
a gun across his shoulder, sauntering down the wooded. lanes,
with a brown spaniel dodging at his heels. and looking as
sleepy and indolent as his master.
The slowness of all Tom's movements was strangely contrasted with his slight, elegant, and symmetrical figure; that
looked as if it only awaited the will of the owner to be the
most active piece of human machinery that ever responded to
the impulses of youth and health. But then, his face! What
pencil could faithfully delineate features at once so comical
and lugubrious-features that one moment expressed the
most solemn seriousness, and the next, the most grotesque
and absurd abandonment to mirth. In him, all extremes
appeared to meet; the man was a contradiction to himself.
Tom was a person of few words, and so intensely lazy that it
required a strong effort of will to enable him to answer the
questions of inquiring friends; and when at length aroused to
exercise his colloquial powers, he performed the task in so
original a manner that it never failed.to upset the gravity of
the interrogator.  When he raised his large, prominent,
leaden-coloured eyes from the ground, and looked the inquirer




TOM IWILSOJ S ElIGRATIONi            33
steadily in the face, the effect was irresistible; the laugh
would come,-do your best to resist it.
Poor Tom took this mistimed merriment in very good part,
generally answering with a ghastly contortion which he meant
for a smile, or, if he did trouble himself to find words, with,
"Well, that's funny! What makes you laugh? At me I
suppose? I don't wonder at it; I often laugh at myself."
Tom would have been a treasure to an undertaker. He
would have been celebrated as a mute; he looked as if he had
been born in a shroud, and rocked in a coffin. The gravity
with which he could answer a ridiculous or impertinent question completely disarmed and turned the shafts of malice back
upon his opponent. If Tom was himself an object of ridicule
to many, he had a way of quietly ridiculing others that bade
defiance to all competition. He could quiz with a smile, and
put down insolence with an incredulous stare. A grave wink
from those dreamy eyes would destroy the veracity of a travelled dandy for ever.
Tom was not without use in his day and generation; queer
and awkward as he was, he was the soul of truth and honour.
You might suspect his sanity-a matter always doubtfulbut his honesty of heart and purpose, never. When you met
Tom in the streets, he was dressed with such neatness and
care (to be sure it took him half a day to make his toilet),
that it led many persons to imagine that this very ugly young
man considered himself an Adonis; and I must confess
that I rather inclined to this opinion. He always paced the
public streets with a slow, deliberate tread, and with his eyes
fixed intently on the ground-like a man who had lost his
ideas, and was diligently employed in searching for them. I
chanced to meet him one day in this dreamy mood.
" How do you do, Mr. Wilson?" He stared at me for
several minutes, as if doubtful of my presence or identity.




34            IOUGHIIIG  IT THE BUSH.
" What was that you said 2"
I repeated the question; and he answered, with one of his
incredulous smiles,
"' Was it to me you spoke?   Oh, I am quite well, or I
should not be walking here. By the way, did you see my
dog 2"
" How should I know your dog "
" They say he resembles me. He's a queer dog, too; but
I never could find out the likeness. Good night!"
This was at noonday; but Tom had a habit of taking light
for darkness, and darkness for light, in all he did or said.
He must have had different eyes and ears, and a different way
of seeing, hearing, and comprehending, than is possessed by
the generality of his species: and to such a length did he
carry this abstraction of soul and sense, that he would often
leave you abruptly in the middle of a sentence; and if you
chanced to meet him some weeks after, he would resume the
conversation with the very word at which he had cut short
the thread of your discourse. A lady once told him in jest
that her youngest brother, a lad of twelve years old, had
called his donkey Braham, in honour of the great singer of
that name. Tom made no answer, but started abruptly away.
Three months after, she happened to encounter him on the
same spot, when he accosted her, without any previous salutation,
"You were telling me about a donkey, Miss --, a
donkey of your brother's-Braham, I think you called himyes, Braham; a strange name for an ass! I wonder what
the great Mr. Braham would say to that. Ha, ha, ha!"
" Your memory must be excellent, Mr. Wilson, to enable
you to remember such a trifling circumstance all this time."
"Trifling, do you call it?  Why, I have thought of nothing
else ever since."




TOM WTILSON'S EMIGRATIOI.\            35
From traits such as these my readers will be tempted to
imagine him brother to the animal who had dwelt so long
in his thoughts; but there were times when he surmounted
this strange absence of mind, and could talk and act as sensibly as other folks.
On the death of his father, he emigrated to New South
Wales, where he contrived to doze away seven years of his
valueless existence, suffering his convict servants to rob him
of every thing, and finally to burn his dwelling. He returned
to his native village, dressed as an italian mendicant, with a
monkey perched upon his shoulder, and playing airs of his
own composition upon a hurdy-gurdy. In this disguise he
sought-the dwelling of an old bachelor uncle, and solicited his
charity. But who that had once seen our friend Tom could
ever forget him?' Nature had no'counterpart of one who in
mind and form was alike original. The good-natured old
soldier, at a "glance, discovered his hopeful nephew, received
him into his house with kindness, and had afforded him an
asylum ever since. One little anecdote of him at this period
will illustrate the quiet love of mischief with which she was
imbued. Travelling from W     -   to London in a stagecoach (railways were not invented in those days), he entered
into conversation with an intelligent farmer who sat next him;
New South Wales, and his residence in that colony, forming
the leading'topic. A dissenting minister who happened to be
his vis-a-vis, and who had annoyed him by making several
impertinent remarks, suddenly asked him, with a sneer, how
many years he had been there.
"Seven," returned Tom, in a solemn tone, without deigning
a glance at his companion.
"I thought so," responded the other, thrusting his hands
into his breeches pockets. "And pra.y, sir, what were you
sent-there for?"




36            RO UGHlI3NG IT IN TIHE BUSH.
" Stealing pigs," returned the incorrigible Tom, with the
gravity of a judge. The words were scarcely pronounced
when the questioner called the coachman to stop, preferring
a ride outside in the rain to a seat within with a thief. Tom!::eatly enjoyed the hoax, which he used to tell with the meriest of all grave faces. Besides being a devoted admirer of the
tair sex, and always imagining himself in love with some unattainable beauty; he had a passionate craze for music,. and
played upon the violin and flute with considerable taste and
execution. The sound of a favourite melody operated upon
the breathing automaton like magic, his frozen faculties
experienced a sudden thaw, and the stream of life leaped and
gambolled for a while with uncontrollable vivacity. He
laughed, danced, sang, and made love in a breath, committing
a thousand mad vagaries to make you acquailited with his
existence.
My husband had a remarkably sweet-toned flute, and this
flute Tom regarded with a species of idolatry.
" I break the Tenth Commandment, Moodie, whenever I
hear you play upon that flute. Take care of your black
wife," (a name he had bestowed upon the coveted treasure,)
" or I shall certainly run off with her."
"I am half afraid of you, Tom. I am sure if I were to
die,' and leave you my black wife as a legacy,.you would be
too much overjoyed to lament my death."
Such was the strange, helpless, whimsical being who now
contemplated an emigration to Canada. How he succeeded
in the speculation the sequel will show.
It was late in the evening before my husband and his
friend Tom Wilson returned from Y —. I had provided
a hot supper and a cup of coffee after their long walk, and
they did ample justice to my care. Tom was in unusually




TOfM WILSON'S EMIGRATION.             37
high spirits, and appeared wholly bent upon his Canadian expedition.
" Mr. C —    must have been very eloquent, Mr. Wilson,"
said I, "to engage your attention for so many hours."
"Perhaps he was," returned Tom, after a pause of some
minutes, during which he seemed to be groping for words in
the salt-cellar, having deliberately turned out its contents upon
the table-cloth. "We were hungry after our long walk, and
he gave us an excellent dinner."
"But that had nothing to do with the substance of his
lecture."
"It was the substance, after all," said Moodie, laughing;
"and his audience seemed to think so, by the attention they
paid to it during the discussion. But, come, Wilson, give my
wife some account of the intellectual part of the entertainment."
" What! I —I-I-I give an account of the lecture? Why,
my dear fellow, I never listened to one word of it!"'
"I thought you went to Y —    on purpose to obtain information on the subject of emigration to Canada?"
" Well, and so I did; but when the fellow pulled out his
pamphlet, and said that it contained the substance of his lecture, and would only, cost a shilling, I thought that it was
better to secure the substance than endeavour to catch the
shadow-so I bought the book, and spared myself the pain of
listening to the oratory of the writer. Mrs. Moodie, he had
a shocking delivery, a drawling, vulgar voice; and he spoke
with such a nasal twang that I could not bear to look at him,
or listen to him. He made such grammatical blunders, that
my sides ached with laughing at him. Oh, I wish you could
have seen the wretch!  But here is the document, written in
the same style in which it was spoken. Read it: you have
a rich treat in store."




38            ROUGHIIITG IT IN T'INE BUSI.
I took the pamphlet, not a little amused at his description
of Mr. C —, for whom I felt an uncharitable dislike.
"And how did you contrive to entertain yourself, Mr.
Wilson, during his long address?"
" By thinking how many fools were collected together, to
listen to one greater than the rest. By the way, Moodie, did
you notice farmer Flitch 2"
"No; where did he sit?"
" At the foot of the table. You must have seen him, he
was too big to be overlooked. What a delightful squint he
had! What a ridiculous likeness there was between him and
the roast pig he was carving! I was wondering all dinnertime how that man contrived to cut up that pig; for one eye
was fixed upon the ceiling, and the other leering very affectionately at me. It was very droll; was it not 2"
"And what do you intend doing with yourself when you
arrive in Canada'  said I.
"' Find out some large hollow tree, and live, like Bruin in
the winter, by sucking my paws. In the summer there will be
plenty of mast and. acorns to satisfy the wants of an abstemious fellow."
"But, joking apart, my dear fellow," said my husband,
anxious to induce him to abandon a scheme so hopeless, "do
you think that you are at all qualified for a life of toil and
hardship V2
" Are you?" returned Tom, raising his large, bushy, black
eyebrows to the top of his forehead, and fixing his leaden
eyes steadfastly upon his interrogator, with an air of such absurd gravity that we burst into a hearty laugh.
"Now what do you laugh for? I am sure I asked you a
very serious question."
"But your method of putting it is so unusual that you
must excuse us for laughing."




TOM WILSON'S ZEIG-ATION1             39' 1 don't want you to weep," said Tom'; " but as to our
qualifications, Moodie, I think them pretty equal. I know
you think otherwise, but I will explain. Let me see; what
was I going to say? —ah, I have it! You go with the intention of clearing land, and working for yourself, and doing a
great deal. I have tried that before in New South Wales,
and I know that it won't answer. Gentlemen can't work like
labourers, and if they could, they won't-it is not in them,
and that you will find out. You expect, by going to Canada,
to make your fortune, or at least secure a comfortable independence. I anticipate no such results; yet I mean to go,
partly out of a whim, partly to satisfy my curiosity whether
it is a better country than New South Wales; and lastly, in
the hope of bettering my condition in a small way, which at
present is so bad that it can scarcely be worse. I mean to
purchase a farm with the three hundred pounds I received last
week from the sale of my father's property; and if the Canadian soil yields only half what Mr. C-  says it does, I need
not starve. But the refined habits in which you have been
brought up, and your unfortunate literary propensities-(I say
unfortunate, because you will seldom meet people in a colony
who can or will sympathize with you in these pursuits)-they
will make you an object of mistrust and envy to those who
cannot appreciate them, and will be a source of constant mortification and disappointment to yourself. Thank God! I have
no literary propensities; but in spite of the latter advantage,
in all probability I shall make no exertion at all; so that your
energy, damped by disgust and disappointment, and my laziness, will end in the same thing, and we shall both return like
bad pennies to our native shores. But, as I have neither wife
nor child to involve in my failure, I think, without much selfflattery, that my prospects are better than yours."
This was the longest speech I ever heard Tom utter; and,




40            RO UGHING' IT IN ZTE BUSH.
evidently astonished at himself, he sprang abruptly from the
table, overset a cup of coffee into my lap, and wishing us
good-day (it was eleven o'clock at night), he ran out of the
house.
There was more truth in poor Tom's words than at that
moment we were willing to allow; for youth and hope were
on our side in those days, and we were most ready to believe
the suggestions of the latter.
My husband finally determined to emigrate to Canada,
and in the hurry and bustle of a sudden preparation to depart, Tom and his affairs for a while were forgotten.
How dark and heavily did that frightful anticipation weigh
upon my heart   As the time for our departure drew near,
the thought of leaving my friends and native land became so
intensely painful that it haunted me even in sleep. I seldom
awoke without finding my pillow wet with tears. The glory
of May was upon the earth-of an English May. The woods
were bursting into leaf, the meadows and hedge-rows were
flushed with flowers, and every grove and copsewood echoed
to the warblings of birds and the humming of bees. To leave
England at all was dreadful-to leave her at such a season
was doubly so. I went to take a last look at the old Hall, the
beloved home of my- childhood and youth; to wander once
more beneath the shade of its venerable oaks-to rest once
more upon the velvet sward that carpeted their roots. It was
while reposing beneath those noble trees that I had first indulged in those delicious dreams which are a foretaste of the
enjoyments of the spirit-land. In them the soul breathes forth
its aspirations in a language unknown to common minds; and
that language is Poetry. Here annually, from year to year,
I had renewed my friendship with the first primroses and vio-.
lets, and listened with the untiring ear of love to the spring
roundelay of the blackbird, whistled from among his bower




TOif WILSON1S EMIGRAiTIOLN           41
of May blossoms. Here, I had discoursed sweet words to the
tinkling brook, and learned from the melody of waters the
music of natural sounds. In these beloved solitudes all the
holy emotions which stir the human heart in its depths had
been freely poured forth, and found a response in the harmonious voice of Nature, bearing aloft the choral song of earth
to the throne of the Creator.
Dear, dear England! why was I forced by a stern necessity to leave you? What heinous crime had I committed,
that I, who adored you, should be torn from your sacred
bosom, to pine out my joyless existence in a foreign clime?
Oh, that I might be permitted to return and die upon your
wave-encircled shores, and rest my weary head and heart beneath your daisy-covered sod at last!'X-   ~*~   ~;~*      *       -n     w
Whilst talking over our coming separation with my sister
C —, we observed Tom Wilson walking slowly up the
path that led to the house. He was dressed in a new shooting-jacket, with his gun lying carelessly across his shoulder,
and an ugly pointer dog following at a little distance.
"Well, Mrs. Moodie, I am off," said Tom, shaking hands
with my sister instead of me.  I suppose I shall see Moodie
in London. What do you think of my dog " patting him
affectionately.'" I think him an ugly beast," said C —. " Do you mean
to take him with you?"
" An ugly beast!-Duchess a beast? Why she is a perfect beauty!-Beauty and the beast! Ha, ha, ha! I gave two
guineas for her last night." (I thought of the old adage.)
"Mrs. Moodie, your sister is no judge of a dog."
" Very likely," returned C —, laughing. " And you go
to town to-night, Mr. Wilson? I thought as you came up to
the house that you were equipped for shooting."




42            R0 UGHIING IT IN THE B USI.
"To be sure; there is capital shooting in Canada."
"So I have heard-plenty of bears and wolves. I suppose
you take out your dog and gun in anticipation 2"
"True," said Tom.
"But you surely are not going to take that dog with you?"
"Indeed I am. She is.a most valuable brute. The very
best venture I could take. My brother Charles has engaged
our passage in the same vessel."
"It would be a pity to.part you,",said I. "May you
Drove as lucky a pair as Whittington and his cat."
"Whittington! Whittington!" said Tom, staring at my
sister, and beginning to dream, which he invariably did in the
company of women. "Who was the gentleman?"
"A  very old friend of mine, one whom I have known
since I was a very little girl," said my sister; " but I have not
time to tell you more about him now. If you go-to St. Paul's
Churchyard, and inquire for Sir Richard Whittington and his
cat, you will get his history for a mere trifle."
"Do not mind her, Mr. Wilson, she is quizzing you,"
quoth I; " I wish you a safe voyage across the Atlantic; I
wish I could add a happy meeting with your friends. But
where shall we find friends in a strange land 2"
" All in good time," said Tom. " I hope to have the pleasure of'meeting you in the backwoods of Canada before three
months are over. What adventures we shall have to tell one
another! It will be capital. Good-bye."
-n.-      e      - -     ^
~ Tom has sailed," said Captain Charles Wilson, stepping
into my little parlour a few days after his eccentric brother's
last visit. "I saw him and Duchess safe on board. Odd as
he is, I parted with him with a full heart; I felt as if we never
should meet again. Poor Tom! he is the only brother left
me now that I can love. Robert and I never agreed very




TOM WTILSON'S EMIGRATION.             43
well, and there is little chance of our meeting il this world.
He is married, and settled down for life in New South Wales;
and the rest, John, Richard, George, are all gone-all!"
"Was Tom in good spirits when you parted 2"
"Yes. He is a perfect contradiction. He always laughs
and cries in the wrong place.' Charles,' he said, with a loud
laugh,'tell the girls to get some new music against I return:
and, hark ye! if I never come back, I leave them my Kangaroo Waltz as a legacy.'"
"What a strange creature!"
"c Strange, indeed; you don't know half his oddities. He
has very little money to take out with him, but he actually
paid for two berths in the ship, that he might not chance to
have a person who snored sleep near him. Thirty pounds
thrown away upon the mere chance of a snoring companion!' Besides, Charles,' quoth he,' I cannot endure to share my little
cabin with others; they will use my towels, and combs, and
brushes, like that confounded. rascal who slept in' the same
berth with me coming from New South Wales, who had the
impudence to clean his teeth with my tooth-brush. Here I
shall be alone, happy and comfortable as a prince, and Duchess shall sleep in the after-berth, and be my queen.' And so
we parted," continued Captain Charles.  " May God take
care of him, for he never could take care of himself."
"That puts me in mind of the reason he gave for not
going with us. He was afraid that my baby would keep him
awake of a night. He hates children, and says that he never
will marry on that account."
We left the British shores on the Ist of July, and cast
anchor, as I have already shown, under the Castle of St.
Lewis,.at Quebec, on the 2d of September, 1832. Tom
Wilson sailed the 1st of May, and had a speedy passage, and




44            RO UGHING IT IN TIlE BUSH.
was, as we heard from his friends, comfortably settled in, the
bush, had bought a farm, and meant to commence operations
in the fall. All this was good news, and as he was settled
near my brother's location, we congratulated ourselves that
our eccentric friend had found a home in the wilderness at
last, and that we should soon see him again.
On the 9th of September, the steamboat William IV.
landed us at the then small but rising town of --, on the
Ontario. The night was dark and rainy; the boat was
crowded with emigrants; and when we arrived at the inn,
we learnt that there was no room for us-not a bed to be
had; nor was it likely, owing to the number of strangers that
had arrived for several weeks, that we could obtain one by
searching farther. Moodie requested the use of a sofa for me
during the night; but even that produced a demur from the
landlord. Whilst I awaited the result in a passage, crowded
with strange faces, a pair of eyes glanced upon me through
the throng. Was it possible?-could it be Tom Wilson?
Did any other human being possess such eyes, or use them in
such an eccentric manner? In another second he had pushed
his way to my side, whispering in my ear, " We met,'twas
in a crowd."
"Tom Wilson, is that you?"
"Do you doubt it? I flatter myself that there is no likeness of such a handsome fellow to be found in the world. It
is I, I swear!-although very little of me is left to swear by.
The best part of me I have left to fatten the mosquitoes and
black flies in that infernal bush.- But where is Moodie 2"
"There he is-trying to induce Mr. S -, for love or
money, to let me have a bed for the night."
"You shall have mine," said Tom. "I can sleep upon
the floor of the parlour in a blanket, Indian fashion. It's a
bargain-I'll go and settle it with the Yankee directly; he's




TOiM WILSO1S EMIGRiSATIO.            45
the best fellow in the world! In the mean while here is a
little parlour, which is a joint-stock affair between some of us
young hopefuls for the time being. Step in here, and I will
go for Moodie; I long to tell him what I think of this confounded country. But you will find it out all in good time;"
and, rubbing his hands together with a most lively and mischievous expression, he shouldered his way through trunks,
and boxes, and anxious faces, to communicate to my husband
the arrangement he had so kindly made for us.
"Accept this gentleman's offer, sir, till to-morrow," said
Mr. S —, " I can then make more comfortable arrangements
for your family; but we are crowded-crowded to excess.
My wife and daughters are obliged to sleep in a little chamber
over the stable, to give our guests more room. Hard that, I
guess, for decent people to locate over the horses."
These matters settled, Moodie returned with Tom Wilson
to the little parlour, in which I had already made myself at
home.
" Well, now, is it not funny that I should be the first to
welcome you to Canada?" said Tom.
"But what are you doing here, my dear fellow?"
"Shaking every day with the ague. But I could laugh in
spite of my teeth to hear them make such a confounded rattling; you would think they were all quarrelling which should
first get out of my mouth. This shaking mania forms one of
the chief attractions of this new country."
"I fear," said I, remarking how thin and pale he had become, " that this climate cannot agree with you."
"Nor I with the climate. Well, we shall soon be quits,
for, to let you into a secret, I am now on my way to England."
"And the farm; what have you done with it?"
" Sold it."
"To whom 2"




46aR O UGHIVG IT IV- THE B USH.
"To one who will take better care of both than I did.
Ah! such a country!-such people!-such rogues! It beats
Australia hollow; you know your customers there-but here
you have to find them out. Such a take-in!-God forgive
them! I never could take care of money; and, one way or
other, they have cheated me out of all mine. I have scarcely
enough left to pay my passage home. But, to provide against
the worst, I have bought a young bear, a splendid fellow, to
make my peace with my uncle. You must see him; he is
close by in the stable."
"To-morrow we will pay a visit to Bruin;'but to-night
do tell us something about yourself, and your residence in the
bush."
"You will know enough about the bush by and by. I
am a bad historian," he continued, stretching out his legs and
yawning horribly, " a worse biographer. I never can find
words to relate facts. But I will try what I can do; mind,
don't laugh at my blunders."
We promised to be serious-no easy matter while looking
at and listening to Tom Wilson, and he gave us, at detached
intervals, the following account of himself:
"My troubles began at. sea. We had a fair voyage, and
all that; but my poor dog, my beautiful Duchess!-that
beauty in the beast-died. I wanted to read the funeral
service over her, but the captain interfered-the brute!-and
threatened to throw me into the sea along with the dead
bitch, as the unmannerly ruffian persisted in calling my canine
friend. I never spoke to him again during the rest of the
voyage. Nothing happened worth relating until I got to this
place, where I chanced to meet a friend who knew your brother, and I went up with him to the woods. Most of the wise
men of Gotham we met on the road were bound to the woods;
so I felt happy that I was, at least, in the fashion. Mr.




TOMt WIILSO.7S EMIGRATION            47
was very kind, and spoke in raptures of the woods, which
formed the theme of conversation during our journey; their
beauty, their vastness, the comfort and independence enjoyed
by those who had settled in them; and he so inspired me
with the subject that I did nothing all day but sing as we rode
along"A life in the woods for me;"
until we came to the woods, and then I soon learned to sing
that same, as the Irishman says, on the other side of my
mouth."
Here succeeded a iong pause, during which friend Tom
seemed mightily tickled with his reminiscences, for he leaned
back in his chair, and from time to time gave way to loud,
hollow bursts of laughter.
"Tom, Tom! are you going mad?" said my husband,
shaking him.
"I never was sane, that I know of," returned he. " You
know that it runs in the family. But do let me have my
laugh out. The woods! Ha! ha! When I used to be
roaming through those woods, shooting-though not a thing
could I ever find to shoot, for birds and beasts are not such
fools as our English emigrants-and I chanced to think of you
coming to spend the rest of your lives in the woods-I used
to stop, and hold my sides, and laugh until the woods rang
again. It was the only consolation I had."
" Good Heavens!" said I, " let us never go to the woods."
" You will repent if you do," continued Tom. "But let
me proceed on my journey. My bones were well-nigh dislocated before we got to D-. The roads for the last
twelve miles were nothing but a succession of mud-holes,
covered with the most ingenious invention ever thought of for
racking the limbs, called corduroy bridges; not breeches,




48           ROUGIINVG IT IN THE BUSH.
mind you,-for I thought, whilst jolting up and down over
them, that I should arrive at my destination minus that indispensable covering. It was night when we got to Mr. —'s
place. I was tired and hungry, my face disfigured and blistered by the unremitting attentions of the black-flies that rose
in swarms from the river. I thought to get a private room
to wash and dress in, but there is no such thing as privacy in
this country. In the bush, all things are in common; you
cannot even get a bed without having to share it with a companion. A bed on the floor in a public sleeping-room!
Think of that; a public sleeping-room!-men, women, and
children, only divided by a paltry curtain. Oh, ye gods!
think of the snoring, squalling, grumbling, puffing; think of
the kicking, elbowing, and crowding; the suffocating heatthe mosquitoes, with their infernal buzzing-and you will
form some idea of the misery I endured the first night of my
arrival in the bush.
"But these are not half the evils with which you have to
contend. You are pestered with nocturnal visitants far more
disagreeable than even the mosquitoes, and must put up with
annoyances more disgusting than the crowded, close room.
And then, to appease the cravings of hunger, fat pork is
served to you three times a-day.  No wonder that the Jews
eschewed the vile animal; they were people of taste. Pork,
morning, noon, and night, swimming in its own grease! The
bishop who complained of partridges every day, should have
been condemned to three months' feeding upon pork in the
bush: and he would have become an anchorite, to escape the
horrid sight of swine's flesh for ever spread before him. No
wonder I am thin: I have been starved-starved upon pritters and pork, and that disgusting specimen of unleavened
bread, yclept cakes in the pan.
"I had such a horror of the pork diet, that whenever I saw




TOM WILSOiNS EIMIGRATION.            49
the dinner in progress I fled to the canoe, in the hope of
drowning upon the waters all reminiscences of the hateful
banquet; but even here the very fowls of the air, and the
reptiles of the deep, lifted up their voices, and shouted,
"Pork, pork, pork!"
M —    remonstrated with his friend for deserting the
country for such minor evils as these, which, after all, he
said, could easily be borne.
"Easily borne!" exclaimed the indignant Wilson. " Go
and try them, and then tell me that. I did try to bear them
with a good grace, but it would not do. I offended every body
with my grumbling. I was constantly reminded by the ladies
of the house, that gentlemen should not come to this country
without they were able to put up with a little inconvenience:
that I should make as good a settler as a butterfly in a beehive: that it was impossible to be nice about food and dress
in the bush: that people must learn to eat what they could
get, and be content to be shabby and dirty, like their neighbours, in the bush,-until that horrid word, bush, became
synonymous with all that was hateful and revolting in my
mind.
" It was impossible to keep any thing to myself. The children pulled my books to pieces to look at the pictures; and
an impudent, bare-legged Irish servant-girl took my towels to
wipe the dishes with, and my clothes-brush to black the shoes
-an operation which she performed with a mixture of soot
and grease. I thought I should be better off in a place of my
own, so I bought a wild farm that was recommended to me,
and paid for it double what it was worth. When I came to
examine my estate, I found there was no house upon it, and I
should have to wait until the fall to get one put up, and a few
acres cleared for cultivation. I was glad to return to my old
quarters.:3




50            ROUIGHING IT IN THE BUSH.' Finding nothing to shoot in the woods, I determined to
amuse myself with fishing; but Mr. -   could not always lend
his canoe, and there was no other to be had. To pass away
the time, I set about making one. I bought an axe, and went
to the forest to select a tree.  About a mile from the lake, I
found the largest pine I ever saw. I did not much like to try
my maiden hand upon it, for it was the first and the last tree
I ever cut down. But to it I went; and I blessed God that it
reached the ground without killing me in its way thither.
When I was about it, I thought I might as well make the
canoe big enough; but the bulk of the tree deceived me in
the length of my vessel, and I forgot to measure the one that
belonged to Mr. —. It took me six weeks hollowing it
out, and when it was finished, it was as long as a sloop-of-war,
and too unwieldy for all the oxen in the township to draw it
to the water. After all my labour, my combats with those
wood-demons, the black-flies, sand-flies, and mosquitoes, my
boat remains a useless monument of my industry. And
worse than this, the fatigue I had endured while working at it
late and early, brought on the ague; which so disgusted me
with the country that I sold my farm and all my traps for an
old song: purchased Bruin to bear me company on my voyage home; and the moment I am able to get rid of this tormenting fever, I am off."
Argument and remonstrance were alike in vain, he could
not be dissuaded from his purpose. Tom was as obstinate as
his bear.
The next morning he conducted us to the stable to see
Bruin. The young denizen of the forest was tied to the
manger, quietly masticating a cob of Indian corn, which he
held in his paw, and looked half human as he sat upon his
haunches, regarding us with a solemn, melancholy air. There
was an extraordinary likeness, quite ludicrous, between Tom




T02f WILSON'S EA[IGRA TION.          51
and the bear. We said nothing, but exchanged glances. Tom
read our thoughts.
"Yes," said he, " there is a strong resemblance; I saw it
when I bought him. Perhaps we are brothers;" and taking
in his hand the chain that held the bear, he bestowed upon
him sundry fraternal caresses, which the ungrateful Bruin.
returned with low and savage growls.
"He can't flatter. He's all truth and sincerity. A child
of nature, and worthy to be my friend; the only Canadian I
ever mean to acknowledge as such."
About an hour after this, poor Tom was shaking with ague,
which in a few days reduced him so low that I began to think
he would never see his native shores again. He bore the
affliction very philosophically, and all his well days he spent
with us.
One day my husband was absent, having accompanied Mr.
S — to inspect a farm, which he afterwards purchased, and
I had to get through the long day at the inn in the best manner I could. The local papers were soon exhausted. At
that period they possessed little or no interest for me. I was
astonished and disgusted at the abusive manner in which
they were written, the freedom of the press being enjoyed to
an extent in this province unknown in more civilized communities.
Men, in Canada, may call one another rogues and miscreants, in the most approved Billingsgate, through the medium
of the newspapers, which are a sort of safety-valve to let off all
the bad feelings and malignant passions floating through the
country, without any dread of the horsewhip. Hence it is
the commonest thing in the world to hear one editor abusing,
like a pickpocket, an opposition brother; calling him a reptile
-a crawling thing-a calumniator-a hired vendor of lies;
and his paper a smut-machine-a vile engine of corruption, as




52            0 UGiHING IT IIN THIT- B USH.
base and degraded as the proprietor, &c. Of this description
was the paper I now held in my hand, which had the impudence to style itself the Reformer-not of morals or manners,
certainly, if one might'judge by the vulgar abuse that defiled
every page of the precious document. I soon flung it from
me, thinking it worthy of the fate of many a better production
in the olden times, that of being burned by the common hangman; but, happily, the office of hangman has become obsolete
in Canada, and the editors of these refined journals may go on
abusing their betters with impunity.
Books I had none, and I wished that Tom would make his
appearance, and amuse me' with his oddities; but he had
suffered so much from the ague the day before, that when he
did enter the room to lead me to dinner, he looked like a
walking corpse-the dead among the living! so dark, so
livid, so'melancholy, it was really painful to look upon
him.
" I hope the ladies who frequent the ordinary won't fall in
love with me," said he, grinning at himself in the miserable
looking-glass that formed the case of the Yankee clock, and
was ostentatiously displayed on a side table; " I look quite
killing to-day. What a comfort it is, Mrs. M —, to be
above all rivalry."
In the middle of dinner, the company was disturbed by the
entrance of a person who had the appearance of a gentleman,
but who was evidently much flustered with drinking. He
thrust his chair in between two gentlemen who sat at the
head of the table, and in a loud voice demanded fish.
" Fish, sir " said the obsequious waiter, a great favourite
with all persons who frequented the hotel; "there is no fish,
sir. There was a fine salmon, sir, had you come sooner;
but'tis all eaten, sir."
"Then fetch me some."




TOMF WILSON'S EMIGRATION.X 
"I'll see what I can do, sir," said the obliging Tim, h  ying
out.
Tom Wilson was at the head of the table, carving a roast
pig, and was in the act of helping a lady, when the rude fellow
thrust his fork into the pig, calling out as he did so,
"Hold, sir! give me some of that pig! You have eaten
among you all the fish, and now you are going trn appropriate
the best parts of the pig."
Tom raised his eyebrows, and stared at ti  stranger m
his peculiar manner, then very coolly placed t i -wnole of the
pig on his plate. "I have heard," he said, "of dog eating
dog, but I never before saw pig eating pig."
"Sir! do you mean to insult me 2' cried the stranger, his
face crimsoning with anger.
" Only to tell you, sir, that you are no gentleman. Here,
Tim," turning to the waiter, " go to the stable and bring in
my bear; we will place him at the table to teach this man
how to behave himself in the presence of ladies."
A general uproar ensued; the women left the table, while
the entrance of the bear threw the gentlemen present into
convulsions of laughter. It was too much for the human
biped; he was forced to leave the room, and succumb to the
bear.
My husband concluded his purchase of the farm, and invited Wilson to go with us into the country and try if change
of air would be beneficial to him; for in his then weak state
it was impossible for him to return to England. His funds
were getting very low, and Tom thankfully accepted the offer.
Leaving Bruin in the charge of Tim (who delighted in the
oddities of the strange English gentleman), Tom made one
of our party to --




54             0 UGEING IT IN THE B USH.
CHAPTER V.
OUR FIRST SETTLEMENT, AND THE BORROWING SYSTEM.
To lend, or not to lend-is that the question?
" THOSE who go a-borrowing, go a-sorrowing," saith the old
adage; and a wiser saw never came out of the mouth
of experience. I have tested the truth of this proverb since
my settlement in Canada, many, many times, to my cost;
and what emigrant has not 2 So averse have I ever been to
this practice, that I would at all times rather quietly submit
to a temporary inconvenience than obtain any thing I wanted
in this manner. I verily believe that a demon of mischief
presides over borrowed goods, and takes a wicked pleasure in
playing off a thousand malicious pranks upon you the moment
he enters your dwelling. Plates and dishes, that had been
the pride and ornament of their own cupboard for years, no
sooner enter upon foreign service than they are broken; wineglasses and tumblers, that have been handled by a hundred
careless wenches in safety, scarcely pass into the hands of
your servants when they are sure to tumble upon the floor,
and the accident turns out a compound fracture. If you bor
row a garment of any kind, be sure that you will tear it; a
watch, that you will break it; a jewel, that you will lose it;
a book, that it will be stolen from you. There is no end to
the trouble and vexation arising out of this evil habit. If you
borrow a horse, and he has the reputation of being the best




UR FIRST SETTLEMENT.               5b.
behaved animal in the district, you no sooner become responsible for his conduct than he loses his character. The moment that you attempt to drive him, he shows that he has
a will of his own, by taking the reins into his own management, and running away in a contrary direction to the
road that you wished him to travel. He never gives over his
eccentric capers until he has broken his own knees, and the
borrowed carriage and harness. So anxious are you about
his safety, that you have not a moment to bestow upon your
own. And why? —the beast is borrowed, and you are expected to return him in as good condition as he came to you.
But of all evils, to borrow money is perhaps the worst. If
of a friend, he ceases to be one the moment you feel that
you are bound to him by the heavy clog of obligation. If of
a usurer, the interest, in this country, soon doubles the original
sum, and you owe an increasing debt, which in time swallows
up all you possess.
When we first came to the colony, nothing surprised me
more than the extent to which this pernicious custom was
carried, both by the native Canadians, the European settlers,
and the lower order of Americans. Many of the latter had
spied out the goodness of the land, and borrowed various portions of it, without so much as asking leave of the absentee
owner. Unfortunately, our new home was surrounded by
these odious squatters, whom we found as ignorant as savages,
without their courtesy and kindness.
The place we first occupied was purchased of Mr. C —,
a merchant, who took it in payment of sundry large debts
which the owner, a New England loyalist, had been unable to
settle. Old Joe H —, the present occupant, had promised
to quit it with his family, at the commencement of sleighing;
and as the bargain was concluded in the month of September,
and we were anxious to plough for fall wheat, it was necessary




56           RO UGHING IT IlV THE' BUSH.
to be upon the spot. No house was to be found in the immediate neighbourhood, save a small dilapidated log tene
ment, on an adjoining farm (which was scarcely reclaimed
from the bush) that had been some months without an owner.
The merchant assured us that this could be made very comfortable until such time as it suited H   to remove, and
the owner was willing to let us have it for the moderate sum
of four dollars a month.
Trusting to Mr. C's word, and being strangers in the
land, we never took the precaution to examine this delightful
summer residence before entering upon it, but thought ourselves very fortunate in obtaining a temporary home so near
our own property, the distance not exceeding half a mile. The
agreement was drawn up, and we were told that we could
take possession whenever it suited us.
The few weeks that I had sojourned in the country had by
no means prepossessed me in its favour. The home-sickness
was sore upon me, and all my solitary hours were spent in
tears. My whole soul yielded itself up to a strong and overpowering grief. One simple word dwelt for ever in my
heart, and swelled it to bursting-" Home!" I repeated it
waking a thousand times a day, and my last prayer before I
sank to sleep was still "Home! Oh, that I could return, if
only to die at home!" And nightly I did return; my feet
again trod the daisied meadows of England; the song of her
birds was in my ears; I wept with delight to find myself
once more wandering beneath the fragrant shade of her green
hedge-rows; and I awoke to weep in earnest when I found it
but a dream. But this is all digression, and has nothing to
do with our unseen dwelling. The reader must bear with me
in my fits of melancholy, and take me as I am.
It was the 22d September that we left the steamboat
Natal, to take possession of our new abode. During the




OUR FIRST SETTLEMvENT.             57
three weeks we had sojourned at -, I had not seen a drop
of rain, and I began to think that the fine weather would last
for ever; but this eventful day arose in clouds. Moodie had
hired a covered carriage to convey the baby, the servantmaid, and myself to the farm, as our driver prognosticated a
wet day; while he followed with Tom Wilson and the teams
that conveyed our luggage.
The scenery through which we were passing was so new to
me, so unlike any thing that I had ever beheld before, that in
spite of its monotonous character, it won me from my melancholy, and I began to look about me with considerable interest. Not so my English servant, who declared that the
woods were frightful to look upon; that it was a country
only fit for wild beasts; that she hated it with all her heart
and soul, and would go back as soon as she was able.
About a mile from the place of our destination the rain began to fall in torrents, and the air, which had been balmy as
a spring morning, turned as chilly as that of a November
day. Hannah shivered; the baby cried, and I drew my
summer shawl as closely round as possible, to protect her
from the sudden change in our hitherto delightful temperature. Just then, the carriage turned into a narrow, steep
path, overhung with lofty woods, and after labouring up it
with considerable difficulty, and at the risk of breaking our
necks, it brought us at length to a rocky upland clearing,
partially covered with a second growth of timber, and surrounded on all sides by the dark forest.
I guess," quoth our Yankee driver, " that at the bottom
of this'ere swell, you'll find yourself to hzm;" and plunging
into a short path cut through the wood, he pointed to a miserable hut, at the bottom of a deep descent, and cracking his
whip, exclaimed, "'Tis a smart location that. I wish you
Britishers may enjoy it."
8*




l58         VRO UGHING IT IN THE BUSIH.
I gazed upon the place in perfect dismay, for I had never
seen such a shed called a house before.  You must be mistaken; that is not a house, but a cattle-shed, or pig-sty."
The man turned his knowing, keen eye upon me, and
smiled, half-humorously, half-maliciously, as he said,
" You were raised in the old country, I guess; you have
much to learn, and more, perhaps, than you'll like to know,
before the winter is over."
I was perfectly bewildered-I could only stare at the
place, with my eyes swimming in tears; but as the horses
plunged down into the broken hollow, my attention was
drawn from my new residence to the perils which endangered
life and limb at every step. The driver, however, was well
used to such roads, and, steering us dexterously between the
black stumps, at length drove up, not to the door, for there
was none to the house, but to the open space from which that
absent but very necessary appendage had been removed.
Three young steers and two heifers, which the driver proceeded to drive out, were quietly reposing upon the floor. A
few strokes of his whip, and a loud burst of gratuitous curses,
soon effected an ejectment; and I dismounted, and took possession of this untenable tenement. Moodie was not yet in
sight with the teams. I begged the man to stay until he
arrived, as I felt terrified at being left alone in this wild,
strange-looking place. He laughed, as well he might, at our
fears, and said that he had a long way to go, and must be
off; then, cracking his whip, and nodding to the girl, who was
crying aloud, he went his way, and Hannah and myself were
left standing in the middle of the dirty floor.
The prospect was indeed dreary. Without, pouring rain;
within, a fireless hearth; a room with but one window, and
that containing only one whole pane of glass; not an article
of furniture to be seen, save an old painted pine-wood cradle,




OUR FIRST SETTLEMENT.               59
which had been left there by some freak of fortune. This,
turned upon its side, served us for a seat, and there we impatiently awaited the arrival of Moodie, Wilson, and a man
whom the former had hired that morning to assist on the
farm. Where they were all to be stowed might have puzzled a more sagacious brain than mine. It is true there was
a loft, but I could see no way of reaching it, for ladder there
was none, so we amused ourselves, while waiting for the coming of the party, by abusing the place, the country, and our
own dear selves, for our folly in coming to it.
Now, when not only reconciled to Canada, but loving it,
and feeling a deep interest in its present welfare, and the fair
prospect of its future greatness, I often look back and laugh
at the feelings with which I then regarded this noble country.
When things come to the worst, they generally mend.
The males of our party no sooner arrived than they set about
snaking things more comfortable. James, our servant, pulled
up some of the decayed stumps, with which the small clearing
that surrounded the shanty was thickly covered, and made a
fire, and Hannah roused herself from the stupor of despair,
and seized the corn-broom from the top of the loaded wagon,
and began to sweep the house, raising such an intolerable
cloud of dust that I was glad to throw my cloak over my head,
and run out of doors, to avoid suffocation. Then commenced
the awful bustle of unloading the two heavily-loaded wagons.
The small space within the house was soon entirely blocked
up with trunks and packages of all descriptions. There was
scarcely room to move, without stumbling over some article
of household stuff.
The rain poured in at the open door, beat in at the shattered window, and dropped upon our heads from the holes in
the roof. The wind blew keenly through a thousand apertures in the log walls; and nothing could exceed the uncom



60            RO UGHINGIi   IN THEE B USI.
fortableness of our situation. For a long time the box which
contained a hammer and nails was not to be found.  At
length Hannah discovered it, tied up with some bedding which
she was opening out in order to dry. I fortunately spied the
door lying among some old boards at the back of the house,
and Moodie immediately commenced fitting it to its place.
This, once accomplished, was a great addition to our comfort.
We then nailed a piece of white cloth entirely over the broken
window, which, without diminishing the light, kept out the
rain. James constructed a ladder out of the old bits of
boards, and Tom Wilson assisted him in stowing the luggage
away in the loft.
But what has this picture of misery and discomfort to do
with borrowing? Patience, my dear, good friends; I will
tell you all about it by and by.
While we were all busily employed-even the poor baby,
who was lying upon a pillow in the old cradle, trying the
strength of her lungs, and not a little irritated that no one
was at leisure to regard her laudable endeavours to make herself heard-the door was suddenly pushed open, and the
apparition of a woman squeezed itself into the crowded room.
I left off arranging the furniture of a bed, that had been just
put up in a corner,,to meet my unexpected, and at that moment, not very welcome guest. Her whole appearance was
so extraordinary that I felt quite at a loss how to address
her.
Imagine a girl of seventeen or eighteen years of age, with
sharp, knowing-looking features, a forward, impudent carriage, and a pert, flippant voice, standing upon one of the
trunks, and surveying all our proceedings in the most impertinent manner. The creature was dressed in a ragged, dirty
purple stuff gown, cut very low in the neck, with an old red
cotton handkerchief tied over her head; her uncombed,




OUR FIRST SETTLEMENT.              61
tangled locks falling over her thin, inquisitive face, in a
state of perfect nature. Her legs and feet were bare, and,
in her coarse, dirty red hands, she swung to and fro an empty
glass decanter.
" What can she want?" I asked myself. " What a strange
creature!"
And there she stood, staring at me in the most unceremonious manner, her keen black eyes glancing obliquely to every
corner of the room, which she examined with critical exactness.
Before I could speak to her, she commenced the conversation by drawling through her nose,
"Well, I guess you are fixing here."
I thought she had come to offer her services; and I told
her that I did not want a girl, for I had brought one out with
me.
" How!" responded the creature, "I hope you don't take
me for a help. I'd have you to know that I'm as good a lady
as yourself. No; I just stepped over to see what was going
on. I seed the teams pass our'n about noon, and I says to
father,'Them strangers are cum; I'll go and look arter
them.''Yes,' says he,'do-and take the decanter along.
Maybe they'll want one to put their whiskey in.'' I'm goin'
to,' says I; so I cum across with it, an' here it is. But,
mind-don't break it-'tis the only one we have to hum; and
father says'tis so mean to drink out of green glass."
My surprise increased every minute. It seemed such an
act of disinterested generosity thus to anticipate wants we had
never thought of. I was regularly taken in.
"My good girl," I began, "this is really very kindbut-"
" Now, don't go to call me'gal'-and pass off your English airs on us. We are genuine Yankees, and think our




62           RO0 UGILVGI IT IN THE B USI
selves as good-yes, a great deal better than you. I am a
young lady."
"Indeed!" said I, striving to repress my astonishment.
"I am a stranger in the country, and my acquaintance with
Canadian ladies and gentlemen is very small. I did not mean
to offend you by using the term girl; I was going to assure
you that we had no need of the decanter. We have bottles
of our own-and we don't drink whiskey."
"How! Not drink whiskey? Why, you don't say!
How ignorant you must be! Maybe they have no whiskey
in the old country?"
"Yes, we have; but it is not like the Canadian whiskey.
But, pray take the decanter home again —I am afraid that it
will get broken in this confusion."
" No, no; father told me to leave it-and there it is;" and
she planted it resolutely down on the trunk. " You will find
a use for it till you have unpacked your own."
Seeing that she was determined to leave the bottle, I said
no more about it, but asked her to tell me where the well
was to be found.
" The well!" she repeated after me, with a sneer. " Who
thinks of digging wells when they can get plenty of water
from the creek? There is a fine water-privilege not a stone'sthrow from the door," and, jumping off the box, she disappeared as abruptly as she had entered. We all looked at
each other; Tom Wilson was highly amused, and laughed
until.he held his sides.
"What tempted her to bring this empty bottle here?"
said Moodie. " It is all an excuse; the visit, Tom, was meant
for you."
"You'll know more about it in a few days," said James
looking up from his work. "That bottle is not brought here,
for naught."




OUR FIRST SETTLEMENT.               63
I could not unravel the mystery, and thought no more about
it, until it was again brought to my recollection by the damsel herself.
Our united efforts had effected a complete transformation
in our uncouth dwelling. Sleeping-berths had been partitioned
off for the men; shelves had been put up for the accommodation of books and crockery, a carpet covered the floor, and
the chairs and tables we had brought from ----  gave an air
of comfort to the place, which, on the first view of it, I deemed
impossible.  My husband, Mr. Wilson, and James, had
walked over to inspect the farm, and I was sitting at the
table at work, the baby creeping upon the floor, and HIannah preparing dinner. The sun shone warm and bright, and
the open door admitted a current of fresh air, which tempered
the heat of the fire.
" Well, I guess you look smart," said the Yankee damsel,
presenting herself once more before me. " You old country
folks are so stiff; you must have every thing nice, or you fret.
But, then, you can easily do it; you have stacks of money;
and you can fix every thing right off with money."
"Pray take a seat," and I offered her a chair, "and be kind
enough to tell me your name. I suppose you must live in
the neighbourhood, although I cannot perceive any dwelling
near us."
"My name! So you want to know my name. I arn't
ashamed of my name;'tis Emily S. I am   eldest
daughter to the gentleman who owns this house."
" What must the father be," thought I, " if he resembles
the young lady, his daughter "
Imagine a young lady, dressed in ragged petticoats, through
whose yawning rents peeped forth, from time to time, her
bare red knees, with uncombed elf-locks, and a face and hands
that looked as if they had been unwashed for a month-who




64           ROUGHIN&G IT IN THE BUSH.
did not know A from B, and despised those who did. While
these reflections, combined with a thousand ludicrous images,
were flitting through my mind, my strange visitor suddenly
exclaimed,
" Have you done with that'ere decanter I brought across
yesterday?"
" Oh, yes! I have no occasion for it."  I rose, took it from
the shelf, and placed it in her hand.
" I guess you won't return it empty; that would be mean,
father says. He wants it filled with whiskey."
The mystery was solved, the riddle made clear. I could
contain my gravity no longer, but burst into a hearty fit of
laughter, in which I was joined by Hannah. Our young lady
was mortally offended; she tossed the decanter from hand to
hand, and glared at us with her tiger-like eyes.
"You think yourselves smart! Why do you laugh in
that way?"
" Excuse me-but you have such an odd way of borrowing
that I cannot help it. This bottle, it seems, was brought over
for your own convenience, not for mine. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have no whiskey."
" I guess spirits will do as well; I know there is some in
that keg, for I smells it."
" It contains rum for the workmen."
"Better still. I calculate when you've been here a few
months, you'll be too knowing to give rum to your helps.
But old country folks are all fools, and that's the reason they
get so easily sucked in, and be so soon wound up. Cum, fill
the bottle, and don't be stingy. In this country we all live
by borrowing. If you want any thing, why just send and borrow from us."
Thinking that this might be the custom of the country, I
hastened to fill the decanter, hoping that I might get a little




OUR FIRST SETTEM'TEMNi               65
new milk for the poor weaning child in return; but when I
asked my liberal visitor if she kept cows, and would lend me
a little new milk for the baby, she burst out into high disdain.
"Milk! Lend milk? I guess milk in the fall is worth a
York shilling a quart. I cannot sell you a drop under."
This was a wicked piece of extortion, as the same article in
the towns, where, of course, it was in greater request, only
brought threepence the quart.
"If you'll pay me for it, I'll bring you some to-morrow.
But mind-cash down."
" And when do you mean to return the rum?" I said, with
some asperity.
" When father goes to the creek."  This was the name
given by my neighbours to the village of P, distant about
four miles.
Day after day I was tormented by this importunate creature; she borrowed of me tea, sugar, candles, starch, blueing,
irons, pots, bowls,-in short, every article in common domestic use,-while it was with the utmost difficulty we could get
them returned. Articles of food, such as tea and sugar, or
of convenience, like candles, starch, and soap, she never
dreamed of being required at her hands. This method of
living upon their neighbours is a most convenient one to unprincipled people, as it does not involve the penalty of stealing;
and they can keep the goods without the unpleasant necessity
of returning them, or feel the moral obligation of being grateful for their use. Living eight miles from -, I found these
constant encroachments a heavy burden on our poor purse;
and being ignorant of the country, and residing in such a
lonely, out-of-the-way place, surrounded by these savages, I
was really afraid of denying their requests.
The very day our new plough came home, the father of
this bright damsel, who went by the familiar and unenviable




66            ROUGHIING IT LV THE BUSE
title of Old Satan, came over to borrow it (though we afterwards found out that he had a good one of his own). The
land had never been broken up, and was full of rocks and
stumps, and he was anxious to save his own from injury; the
consequence was that the borrowed implement came home
unfit for use, just at the very time that we wanted to plough
for fall wheat. The same happened to a spade and trowel,
bought in order to plaster the house. Satan asked the loan
of them for one hour for the same purpose, and we never saw
them again.
The daughter came one morning, as usual, on one of these
swindling expeditions, and demanded of me the loan of some
fine slack. Not knowing what she meant by fine slack, and
weary of her importunities, I said I had none. She went
away in a rage. Shortly after she came again for some pepper. I was at work, and my work-box was open upon the
table, well stored with threads and spools of all descriptions.
Miss Satan cast her hawk's eye into it, and burst out in her
usual rude manner,
"I guess you told me a tarnation big lie the other day."
Unaccustomed to such language, I rose from my seat, and
pointing to the door, told her to walk out, as I did not choose
to be insulted in my own house.
"Your house! I'm sure it's father's," returned the incorrigible wretch. "You told me that you had no fine slack,
and you have stacks of it."
"What is fine slack?" said I, very pettishly.
"The stuff that's wound upon these'ere pieces of wood,"
pouncing as she spoke upon one of my most serviceable
spools.
"I cannot give you that; I want it myself."
"I didn't ask you to give it. I only wants to borrow it
till father goes to the creek."




OUR FIRST SETTLEMENT.               67
"I wish he would make haste, then, as I want a number
cf things which you have borrowed of me, and which I cannot
longer do without."
She gave me a knowing look, and carried off my spool in
triumph.
I happened to mention the manner in which I was constantly annoyed by these people, to a worthy English farmer
who resided near us; and he fell a-laughing, and told me that
I did not know the Canadian Yankees as well as he did, or I
should not be troubled with them long.
" The best way," says he, " to get rid of them, is to ask
them sharply what they want; and if they give you no satisfactory answer, order them to leave the house; but I believe
I can put you in a better way still. Buy some small article
of them, and pay them a trifle over the price, and tell them
to bring the change. I will lay my life upon it that it will be
long before they trouble you again."
I was impatient to test the efficacy of his scheme. That
very afternoon Miss Satan brought me a plate of butter for
sale. The price was three and ninepence; twice the sum, by
the by, that it was worth.
" I have no change," giving her a dollar; "but you can
bring it me to-morrow." 
- Oh, blessed experiment! for the value of one quarter-dollar I got rid of this dishonest girl for ever; rather than pay
me, she never entered the house again. About a month after
this, I was busy making an apple-pie in the kitchen. A cadaverous-looking woman, very long-faced and witch-like, popped
her ill-looking visage into the door, and drawled through' her
nose,
" Do you want to buy a rooster?"
Now, the sucking-pigs with which we had been regaled
every day for three weeks at the tavern, were called roasters;




68           ROUGHIING IT il THE BUSH.
and not understanding the familiar phrases of the country, I
thought she had a sucking-pig to sell.
" Is it a good one?"
" I guess'tis."
"What do you ask for it?"
"Two Yorkers."
"That is very cheap, if it is any weight. I don't like them
under ten or twelve pounds."
"Ten or twelve pounds! Why, woman, what do you
mean? Would you expect a rooster to be bigger nor a
turkey?"
We stared at each other. There was evidently some misconception on my part.
"Bring the roaster up; and if I like it, I will buy it,
though I must confess that I am not very fond of roast pig."
" Do you call this a pig?" said my she-merchant, drawing
a fine game-cock from under her cloak.
I laughed heartily at my mistake, as I paid her down the
money for the bonny bird. This little matter settled, I
thought she would take her departure; but that rooster
proved the dearest fowl to me that ever was bought.
"Do you keep backy and snuff here?" says she, sideling
close up to me.
"We make no use of those articles."
"How! Not use backy and snuff? That's oncommon."
She paused, then added in a mysterious, confidential tone,
"I want to ask you how your tea-caddy stands?"
"It stands in the cupboard," said I, wondering what all
this might mean.
"I know that; but have you any tea to spare?"
I now began to suspect what sort of a customer the
stranger was.
" Oh, you want to borrow some? I have none to spare."




OUR FIRST SETTLEIENT.               69
"You don't say so. Well, now, that's stingy. I never
asked any thing of you before. I am poor, and you are rich;
besides, I'm troubled so with the headache, and nothing does
me any good but a cup of strong tea."
"The money I have just given you will buy a quarter of
a pound of the best."
" I guess that isn't mine. The fowl belonged to my neighbour. She's sick; and I promised to sell it for her to buy
some physic. Money!" she added, in a coaxing tone, " Where
should I get money? Lord bless you! people in this country
have no money; and those who come out with piles of it,
soon lose it. But Emily S — told me that you are nation
rich, and draw your money from the old country. So I
guess you can well afford to lend a neighbour a spoonful of
tea."
"Neighbour! Where do you live, and what is your
name?"
" My name is Betty Fye-old Betty Fye; I live in the
log shanty over the creek, at the back of your'n. The farm
belongs to my eldest son. I'm a widow with twelve sons;
and'tis -   hard to scratch along."
" Do you swear?"
" Swear! What harm'? It eases one's mind when one's
vexed. Every body swears in this country. My boys all
swear like Sam Hill; and I used to swear mighty big oaths
till about a month ago, when the Methody parson told me
that if I did not leave it off I should go to a tarnation bad
place; so I dropped some of the worst of them."
"You would do wisely to drop the rest; women never
swear in my country'
" Well, you don't say! I always heer'd they were very
Ignorant. Will you lend me the tea?"
The woman was cuch an original that I gave her what she




70            ROUGKING IT IN THE BUSH.
wanted. As she was going off, she took up one of the apples
I was peeling.
"I guess you have a fine orchard?"
"They say the best in the district."
"We have no orchard to hum, and I guess you'll want
sarce."
" Sarce! What is sarce "
"Not know what sarce is    You are clever! Sarce is
apples cut up and dried, to make into pies in the winter. Now
do you comprehend?"
I nodded.
"Well, I was going to say that I have no apples, and that
you have a tarnation big few of them; and if you'll give me
twenty bushels of your best apples, and find me with half a
pound of coarse thread to string them upon, I will make you
a barrel of sarce on shares-that is, give you one, and keep
one for myself."
I had plenty of apples, and I gladly accepted her offer, and
Mrs. Betty Fye departed, elated with the success of her expedition. I found to my cost, that, once admitted into the
house, there was no keeping her away. She borrowed every
thing that she could think of without once dreaming of restitution. I tried all ways of affronting her, but without success.
Winter came, and she was still at her old pranks. Whenever
I saw her coming down the lane, I used involuntarily to exclaim, "Betty Fye! Betty Fye! Fye upon Betty Fye! The
Lord deliver me from Betty Fye!" The last time I was
honoured with a visit from this worthy, she meant to favour
me with a very large order upon my goods and chattels.
" Well, Mrs. Fye, what do you want to-day?"
"So many things that I scarce know where to begin. Ah,
what a thing'tis to be poor! First, I want you to lend me
ten pounds of flour to make some johnnie-cakes."




OUR FIRST SETTLEMEN2T               71
"I thought they were made of Indian meal?"
"Yes, yes, when you've got the meal. I'm out of it, and
this is a new fixing of my own invention. Lend me the flour,
woman, and I'll bring you one of the cakes to taste."
This was said very coaxingly.
" Oh, pray don't trouble yourself. What next "  I was
anxious to see how far her.impudence would go, and determined to affront her if possible.
" I want you to lend me a gown, and a pair of stockings.
I have to go to Oswego to see my husband's sister, and I'd
like to look decent."
" Mrs. Fye, I never lend my clothes to any one. If I lend
them to you, I should never wear them again."
"So much the better for me," (with a knowing grin). " I
guess if you won't lend me the gown, you will let me have
some black slack to quilt a stuff petticoat, a quarter of a
pound of tea and some sugar; and. I will bring them back as
soon as I can."
"I wonder when that will be.  You owe me so many
things that it will cost you more than you imagine to repay
me."
" Since you're not going to mention what's past, I can't
owe you much. But I will let you off the tea and the sugar,
if you will lend me a five-dollar bill." This was too much
for my patience longer to endure, and I answered sharply,
" Mrs. Fye, it surprises me that such proud people as you
Americans should condescend to the meanness of borrowing
from those whom you affect to despise. Besides, as you never
repay us for what you pretend to borrow, I look upon it as a
system of robbery. If strangers unfortunately settle among
you, their good-nature is taxed to supply your domestic wants,
at a ruinous expense, besides the mortification of finding that
they have been deceived and tricked out of their property. If




72           BiROUSGHIN  IT IN THE BUSH.
you would come honestly to me and say,' I want these things,
I am too poor to buy them myself, and would be obliged to
you to give them to me,' I should then acknowledge you as a
common beggar, and treat you accordingly; give or not give,
as it suited my convenience. But in the way in which you
obtain these articles from me, you are spared even a debt of
gratitude; for you well know that the many things which you
have borrowed from me will be a debt owing to the day of
judgment."
"S'pose they are," quoth Betty, not in the least abashed
at my lecture on honesty, " you know what the Scripture
saith,'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"
"Ay, there is an answer to that in the same book, which
doubtless you may have heard," said I, disgusted with her
hypocrisy, "' The wicked borroweth, and payeth not again."'
" Never shall I forget the furious passion into which this
too apt quotation threw my unprincipled applicant.  She
lifted up her voice and cursed me, using some of the big
oaths temporarily discarded for conscience sake. And so she
left me, and I never looked upon her face again.
When I removed to our own house, the history of which,
and its former owner, I will give by and by, we had a bony,
red-headed, ruffianly American squatter, who had " left his
country for his country's good," for an opposite neighbour.
I had scarcely time to put my house in order before his
family commenced borrowing, or stealing from me. It is
even worse than stealing, the things procured from you being
obtained on false pretences —adding lying to theft.  Not
having either an oven or a cooking-stove, which at that period were not so cheap or so common as they are now, I
had provided myself with a large bake-kettle as a substitute.
In this kettle we always cooked hot cakes for breakfast,
preferring that to the trouble of thawing the frozen bread.




0UR FIRST SETTLEMZEYZT.             73
This man's wife was in the habit of sending over for my kettie whenever she wanted to bake, which, as she had a large
family, happened nearly every day, and I found her importunity a great nuisance.
I told the impudent lad so, who was generally sent for it;
and asked him what they did to bake their bread before I
came.
" I guess we had to eat cakes in the pan; but now we can
borrow this kettle of your'n, mother can fix bread."
I told him that he could have the kettle this time; but I
must decline letting his mother have it in future, for I wanted
it for the same purpose.
The next day passed over. The night was intensely cold,
and I did not rise so early as usual in the morning. My servant was away at a quilting bee, and we were still in bed,
when I heard the latch of the kitchen-door lifted up, and a
step crossed the floor. I jumped out of bed, and began to
dress as fast as I could, when Philander called out, in his
well-known nasal twang,
" Missus! I'm come for the kettle."
I (through the partition):' You can't have it this morning.
We cannot get our breakfast without it."
Philander: " Nor more can the old woman to hum," and,
snatching up the kettle, which had been left to warm on the
hearth, he rushed out of the house, singing, at the top of his
voice,
" Hurrah for the Yankee Boys i"
When James came home for his breakfast, I sent him
across to demand the kettle, and the dame very coolly told
him that when she had done with it I might have it, but she
defied him to take it out of her house with her bread in it.
One word more about this lad, Philander, before we part
4




74             O UGHING IT IN TlE B USH.
with him. Without the least intimation that his company
would be agreeable, or even tolerated, he favoured us with it
at all hours of the day, opening the door and walking in and
out whenever he felt inclined. I had given him many broad
hints that his presence was not required, but he paid not the
slightest attention to what I said. One morning he marched
in with his hat on, and threw himself down in the rockingchair, just as I was going to dress my baby.
"Philander, I want to attend to the child; I cannot do it
with you here. Will you oblige me by going into the
kitchen?"
No answer.   He seldom spoke during these visits, but
wandered about the room, turning over our books and papers,
looking at and handling every thing. Nay, I have even known
him to take a lid off from the pot on the fire, to examine its
contents.
I repeated my request.
Philander: "Well, I guess I sha'n't hurt the young'un.
You can dress her."
I: "But not with you here."
Philander: " Why not? We never do any thing that we
are ashamed of."
I: "So it seems. But I want to sweep the room-you
had better get out of the dust."
I took the broom from the corner, and began to sweep;
still my visitor did not stir. The dust rose in clouds; he
rubbed his eyes, and moved a little nearer to the door. Another
sweep, and, to escape its inflictions, he mounted the threshold.
I had him now at a fair advantage, and fairly swept him out,
and shut the door in his face.
Philander (looking through the window): "Well, I guess
you did me then; but'tis deuced hard to outwit a Yankee."
This freed me from his company, and he, too, never re



oR FIRST SETTLEMi2  N.              75
peated his visit; so I found by experience, that once smartly
rebuked, they did not like to try their strength with you a
second time. When a sufficient time had elapsed for the drying of my twenty bushels of apples, I sent a Cornish lad, in
our employ, to Betty Fye's, to inquire if they were ready,
and when I should send the cart for them. Dan returned
with a yellow, smoke-dried string of pieces, dangling from his
arm. Thinking that these were a specimen of the whole, I
inquired when we were to send the barrel for the rest.
"Lord, ma'am, this is all there be."
" Impossible! All out of twenty bushels of apples?"
"Yes," said the boy, with a grin. " The old witch told me
that this was all that was left of your share; that when they
were fixed enough, she put them under her bed for safety, and
the mice and the children had eaten them all up but this string."
This ended my dealings with Betty Fye.
I had another incorrigible borrower in the person of old
Betty B —. This Betty was unlike the rest of my Yankee
borrowers; she was handsome in her person, and remarkably
civil, and she asked for the loan of every thing in such a frank,
pleasant manner, that for some time I hardly knew how to
refuse her. After I had been a loser to a considerable extent, and declined lending her any more, she refrained from
coming to the house herself, but sent in her name the most
beautiful boy in the world: a perfect cherub, with regular
features, blue, smiling eyes, rosy cheeks, and lovely curling
auburn hair, who said, in the softest tones imaginable, that
mammy had sent him, with her compliments, to the English
lady to ask the loan of a little sugar or tea. I could easily
have refused the mother, but I could not find it in my heart
to say nay to her sweet boy.
There was something original about Betty B —, and I
must give a slight sketch of her.




76            R0 OUGHING IT IN THE B USH.
She lived in a lone shanty in the woods, which had been
erected by lumberers some years before, and which was destitute of a single acre of clearing; yet Betty had plenty of
potatoes, without the trouble of planting, or the expense of
buying; she never kept a cow, yet she sold butter and milk;
but she had a fashion, and it proved a convenient one to her,
of making pets of the cattle of her neighbours. If our cows
strayed from their pastures, they were always found near
Betty's shanty, for she regularly supplied them with salt,
which formed a sort of bond of union between them; and, in
return for these little attentions, they suffered themselves to
be milked before they returned to their respective owners.
Her mode of obtaining eggs and fowls was on the same economical plan, and we all looked upon Betty as a sort of freebooter, living upon the property of others. She had had three
husbands, and he with whom she now lived was not her hus.
band, although the father of the splendid child whose beauty
so won upon my woman's heart. Her first husband was still
living, (a thing by no means uncommon among persons of her
class, in Canada,) and though they had quarrelled and parted
years ago, he occasionally visited his wife to see her eldest
daughter, Betty the younger, who was a child. She was now
a fine girl of sixteen, as beautiful as her little brother. Betty's
second husband had been killed in one of our fields by a tree
falling upon him while ploughing under it. He was buried
upon the spot, part of the blackened stump forming his monument. In truth, Betty's character was none of the best, and
many of the respectable farmers' wives regarded her with a
jealous eye.
" I am so jealous of that nasty Betty B —," said the wife
of an Irish captain in the army, and our near neighbour, to
me, one day as we were sitting at work together. She was a
West Indian, and a negro by the mother's side, but an uncom



0 UR FIRST SETTLEMENT.              77
mon fine-looking mulatto, very passionate, and very watchful
over the conduct of her husband.  Are you not afraid of
letting Captain Moodie go near her shanty?"
" No, indeed; and if I were so foolish as to be jealous, it
would not be of old Betty, but of the beautiful young Betty,
her daughter."  Perhaps this was rather mischievous on my
part, for the poor dark lady went off in a frantic fit of jealousy,
but this time it was not of old Betty.
Another American squatter was always sending over to
borrow a small-tooth comb, which she called a vermin destroyer; and once the same person asked the loan of a towel,
as a friend had come from the States to visit her, and the only
one she had, had been made into a best "'pinny" for the
child; she likewise begged a sight in the looking-glass, as she
wanted to try on a new cap, to see if it were fixed to her
mind. This woman must have been a mirror of neatness
when compared with her dirty neighbours.
One night I was roused up from my bed for the loan of a
pair of " steelyards." For what purpose, think you, gentle reader?  To weigh a new-born infant.  The process was
performed by tying the poor squalling thing up in a small
shawl, and suspending it to one of the hooks. The child was
a fine boy, and weighed ten pounds, greatly to the delight of
the Yankee father. One of the drollest instances of borrowing
I have ever heard of was told me by a friend. A maid-servant asked her mistress to go out on a particular afternoon,
as she was going to have a party of her friends, and wanted
the loan of the drawing-rbom. It would be endless to enumerate our losses in this way; but, fortunately for us, the arrival
of an English family in our immediate vicinity drew off the
attention of our neighbours in that direction, and left us time
to recover a little from their persecutions.
This system of borrowing is not wholly confined to the




78            0OUtGING i2 IT   THE BUSH.
poor and ignorant; it pervades every class of society. If a
party is given in any of the small villages, a boy is sent round
from house to house, to collect all the plates and dishes, knives
and forks, tea-spoons and candlesticks, that are presentable, for
the use of the company.
During my stay at the hotel, I took a dress out of my
trunk, and hung it up upon a peg in my chamber, in order to
remove the creases it had received from close packing.  Returning from a walk in the afternoon, I found a note upon my
dressing-table, inviting us to spend the evening with a clergyman's family in the village; and as it was nearly time to
dress, I went to the peg to take down my gown. Was it a
dream?-the gown was gone. I re-opened the trunk, to see
if I had replaced it; I searched every corner of the room, but
all in vain; no where could I discover the thing I sought.
What had become of it?   The question was a delicate one,
which I did not like to put to the young ladies of the truly
respectable establishment; still, the loss was great, and at
that moment very inconvenient. While I was deliberating
on what course to pursue, Miss S-  entered the room.
"I guess you missed your dress," she said, with a smile.
"Do you know where it is 2"
"Oh, sure.  Miss L —, the dressmaker, came in just
after you left. She is a very particular friend of mine, and I
showed her your dress. She admired it above all things, and
borrowed it, to get the pattern for Miss R-'s wedding
dress. She promised to return it to-morrow."
Provoking! I wanted it to-night. Who ever heard of
borrowing a person's dress without the leave of the owner?
Truly, this is a free-and-easy country!"
One very severe winter night, a neighbour borrowed of.Ye a blanket-it was one of my best-for the use of a stranger who was passing the night at her house. T could not well




OUR FIRST SETTLEMENT.               7.
refuse; but at that time, the world pressed me sore, and I
could ill spare it. Two years elapsed, and I saw no more of
my blanket; at length I sent a note to the lady, requesting
it to be returned. I got a very short answer back, and the
blanket, alas! worn threadbare; the borrower stating that she
had sent the article, but really she did not know what to do
without it, as she wanted it to cover the children's bed. She
certainly forgot that I, too, had children, who wanted covering
as well as her own. But I have said so much of the ill results
of others' borrowing, that I will close this sketch by relating
my own experience in this way.
After removing to the bush, many misfortunes befell us,
which deprived us of our income, and reduced us to great
poverty. In fact, we were strangers, and the knowing ones
took us in; and for many years we struggled with hardships which would have broken stouter hearts than ours, had
not our trust been placed in the Almighty, who among all our
troubles never wholly deserted us.
While my husband was absent on the frontier during
the rebellion, my youngest boy fell very sick, and required
my utmost care, both by night and day. To attend to him
properly, a candle burning during the night was necessary.
The last candle was burnt out; I had no money to buy another, and no fat from which I could make one. I hated borrowing; but, for the cear child's sake, I overcame my
scruples, and succeeded in procuring a candle from a good
neighbour, but with strict injunctions (for it was her last)
that I must return it if I did not require it during the night.
I went home quite grateful with my prize. It was a clear
moonlight night-the dear boy was better, so I told old Jenny,
my Irish servant, to go to bed, as I would lie down in my
clothes by the child, and if he were worse I would get up and
light the candle. It happened that a pane of glass was broken




80           ROUGLEYNG IT IN THE BUSH.
out of the window-frame, and I had supplied its place by fitting in a shingle; my friend Emilia S —  had a large Tomcat, who, when his mistress was absent, often paid me a predatory or borrowing visit; and Tom had a practice of pushing
in this wooden pane, in order to pursue his lawless depredations. I had forgotten all this, and never dreaming that Tom
would appropriate such light food, I left the candle lying in
the middle of the table, just under the window.
Between sleeping and waking, I heard the pane gently
pushed in. The thought instantly struck me that it was Tom,
and that, for lack of something better, he might steal my precious candle.
I sprang up from the bed, just in time to see him dart through
the broken window, dragging the long white candle after him.
I flew to the door, and pursued him half over the field, but all
to no purpose. I can see him now, as I saw him then, scampering away for dear life, with his prize trailing behind him,
gleaming like a silver tail in the bright light of the moon.
Ah! never did I feel more acutely the truth of the proverb,
"Those that go a-borrowing go a-sorrowing," than I did that
night. My poor boy awoke ill and feverish, and I had no
light to assist him, or even to look into his sweet face, to
see how far I dared hope that the light of day would find
him better.




OLD SATAN AND TOM fWILSON'S NAOS.         81
CHAPTER VI.
OLD SATAN AND TOM WILSON' S NOSE.
" A nose, kind sir! Sure mother Nature,
With all her fieaks, ne'er form'd this feature.
If such were mine, I'd try and trade it,
And swear the gods had never made it."
AFTER reducing the log cabin into some sort of order, we
contrived, with the aid of a few boards, to make a bedcloset for poor Tom Wilson, who continued to shake every
day with the pitiless ague. There was no way of admitting
light and air into this domicile, which opened into the general
apartment, but through a square hole cut in one of the planks,
just wide enough to admit a man's head through the aperture.
Here we made Tom a comfortable bed on the floor, and did
the best we could to nurse him through his sickness.. His
long, thin face, emaciated with disease, and surrounded by
huge black whiskers, and a beard of a week's growth, looked
perfectly unearthly. He had only to stare at the baby to
frighten her almost out of her wits.
" How fond that young one is of me," he would say; " she
cries for joy at the sight of me."
Among his curiosities, and he had many, he held in great
esteem a huge nose, made hollow to fit his face, which his
father', a being almost as eccentric as himself, had carved out
of boxwood. When he slipped this nose over his own (which
was no beautiful classical specimen of a nasal organ), it made
4*




R2 UGSHING IT IN T'E B USH.
a most perfect and hideous disguise. The mother who bore
him never would have recognized her accomplished son.
Numberless were the tricks he played off with this nose.
Once he walked through the streets of --, with this proboscis attached to his face. "What a nose! Look at the
man with the nose 1" cried all the boys in the streets. A
party of Irish emigrants passed at the moment. The men,
with the courtesy natural to their nation, forbore to laugh in
the gentleman's face; but after they had passed, Tom looked
back, and saw them bent half double in convulsions of mirth.
Tom made the party a low bow, gravely took off his nose,
and put it in his pocket.
The day after this frolic, he had a very severe fit of the
ague, and looked so ill that I really entertained fears for his
life. The hot fit had just left him, and he lay upon his bed
bedewed with a cold perspiration, in a state of complete
exhaustion.
Poor Tom," said I, "he has passed a horrible day, but
the worst is over, and I will make him a cup of coffee." While
preparing it, Old Satan came in and began to talk to my husband. He happened to sit directly opposite the aperture
which gave light and air to Tom's berth. This man was disgustingly ugly. He had lost one eye in a quarrel. It had
been gouged out in the barbarous conflict, and the side of his
face presented a succession of horrible scars inflicted by the
teeth of his savage adversary. The nickname he had acquired
through the country sufficiently testified to the respectability
of his character, and dreadful tales were told of him in the
neighbourhood, where he was alike feared and hated.
The rude fellow, with his accustomed insolence, began
abusing the old country folks.
The English were great bullies, he said; they thought, no
one could fight but themselves; but the Yankees had whipped




OLD SATAN AND TOM WIILSON'S NOSE.          83
them, and would whip them again. He was not afear'd of
them, he never was afear'd in his life.
Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, when a horrible
apparition presented itself to his view. Slowly rising from
his bed, and putting on the fictitious nose, while he drew his
white night-cap over his ghastly and livid brow, Tom thrust
his face through the aperture, and uttered a diabolical cry;
then sank down upon his unseen couch as noiselessly as he
had arisen. The cry was like nothing human, and it was
echoed by an involuntary scream from the lips of our maidservant and myself.
"Good God! what's that?" cried Satan, falling back in his
chair, and pointing to the vacant aperture. "Did you hear
it? did you see it'  It beats the universe. I never saw a
ghost or the devil before!"
Moodie, who had recognized the ghost, and greatly enjoyed the fun, pretended profound ignorance, and coolly
insinuated that Old Satan had lost his senses. The man was
bewildered; he stared at the vacant aperture, then at us in
turn, as if he doubted the accuracy of his own vision. "'Tis
tarnation odd," he said; "but the women heard it too."
" I heard a sound," I said, "a dreadful sound, but I saw no
ghost."
"Sure an''twas himsel'," said my lowland Scotch girl,
who now perceived the joke; "he was a seeken' to gie us
puir bodies a wee fricht."
" How long have you been subject to these sort of fits 2"
said I. "You had better speak to the doctor about them.
Such fancies, if they are not attended to, often end in madness."
"Mad!" (very indignantly) " I guess I'm not mad, but as
wide awake as you are. Did I not see it with my own eyes?
And then the noise-I could not make such a tarnation outcry




84            ROUGHING IT IN TIE BUSH.
to save my life. But be it man or devil, I don't care, I'm not
afear'd," doubling his fist very undecidedly at the hole. Again
the ghastly head was protruded-the dreadful eyes rolled
wildly in their hollow sockets, and a yell more appalling than
the former rang through the room. The man sprang from
his chair, which he overturned in his fright, and stood for an
instant with his one eyeball starting from his head, and
glaring upon the spectre; his cheeks deadly pale; the cold
perspiration streaming from his face; his lips dissevered, and
his teeth chattering in his head.' There-there-there. Look-look, it comes again!the devil!-the devil!"
Here Tom, who still kept his eyes fixed upon his victim,
gave a knowing wink, and thrust his tongue out of his mouth.
" He is coming!-he is coming!" cried the affrighted
wretch; and clearing the open doorway with one leap, he fled
across the field at full speed. The stream intercepted his
path-he passed it at a bound, plunged into the forest, and
was out of sight.
" Ha, ha, ha!" chuckled poor Tom, sinking down exhausted
on his bed. "   that I had strength to follow up my advantage, I would lead Old Satan such a chase that he should think
his namesake was in truth behind him."
During the six weeks that we inhabited that wretched
cabin, we never were troubled by Old Satan again. As Tom
slowly recovered, and began to regain his appetite, his soul
sickened over the salt beef and pork, which. owing to our
distance from  -, formed our principal fare. He positively refused to touch the sad bread, as my Yankee neighbours very appropriately termed the unleavened cakes in the
pan; and it was no easy matter to send a man on horseback
eight miles to fetch a loaf of bread.
4' Do, my dear Mrs. Moodie, like a good Christian as you




MY FIRST CANADIAN LOAF.              85
are, give me a morsel of the baby's biscuit, and try and make
us some decent bread. The stuff your servant gives us is uneatable," said Wilson to me, in most imploring accents.
" Most willingly. But I have no yeast; and I never baked
in one of those strange kettles in my life."
"I'll go to old Joe's wife and borrow some," said he;
"they are always borrowing of you."  Away he went across
the field, but soon returned. I looked into his jug-it was
empty. "No luck," said he; " those stingy wretches had
just baked a fine batch of bread, and they would neither
lend nor sell a loaf; but they told me how to make their
milk-emptyings."
"Well; discuss the same;" but I much doubted if he
could remember the recipe.
"You are to take an old tin pan," said he, sitting down on
the stool, and poking the fire with a stick.
" Must it be an old one?" said I, laughing.
"Of course; they said so."
"And what am I to put into it?"
"Patience; let me begin at the beginning. Some flour
and some milk-but, by George! I've forgot all about it. I
was wondering as I came across the field why they called the
yeast milk-emptyings, and that put the way to make it quite
out of my head. But never mind; it is only ten o'clock by
my watch... I have nothing to do; I will go again."
He went. Would I had been there to hear the colloquy
between him and Mrs. Joe; he described it something to this
effect:
Mrs. Joe: "Well, stranger, what do you want now?"
Tom: "I have forgotten the way you told me how to
make the bread."
Mrs. Joe: "I never told you how to make bread. I
guess you are a fool. People have to raise bread before they




86            RO UGIIING I IT N THE BUSHI.
can bake it. Pray who sent you to make game of me? I
guess somebody as wise as yourself."
Tom: " The lady at whose house I am staying."
Mrs. Joe: " Lad y! I can tell you that we have no ladies
here. So the old woman who lives in the old log shanty in
the hollow don't know how to make bread. A clever wife
that!  Are you her husband?"     (Tom shakes his head.)
"Her brother?"  (Another shake.)  "Her son? Do you
hear? or are you deaf?"  (Going quite close up to him.)
Tom (moving back):   Mistress, I'm not deaf; and who
or what I am is nothing to you. Will you oblige me by
telling me how to make the mill-emptyings; and this time I'll
put it down in my pocket-book."
Mrs. Joe (with a strong sneer): " Mill-emptyings!  Milk,
I told you. So you expect me to answer your questions, and
give back nothing in return. Get you gone; I'll tell you no
more about it."
Tom (bowing very low): "Thank you for your civility. Is
the old woman who lives in the little shanty near the appletrees more obliging?"
Mrs. Joe: " That's my husband's mother. You may try.
I guess she'll give you an answer."  (Exit, slamming the door
in his face.)
" And what did you do then?" said I.
"Oh, went of course. The door was open, and I recon.
noitred the premises before I ventured in. I liked the phiz of
the old woman a deal better than that of her daughter-in-law,'
although it was cunning and inquisitive, and as sharp as a
needle. She was busy shelling cobs of Indian corn into a
barrel. I rapped at the door. She told me to come in, and
in I stepped. She asked me if I wanted her. I told her my
errand, at which she laughed heartily.
Old woman: " You are from the old country, I guess, or




MY FIRST CANrADIAN LOAF.             87
you would know how to make milk-emptyings. Now, I
always prefer bran-emptyings. They make the best bread.
The milk, I opine, gives it a sourish taste, and the bran is the
least trouble."
Tom: " Then let us have the bran, by all means. How do
you make it?"
Old woman: " I put a double handful of bran into a small
pot, or kettle, but a jug will do, and a tea-spoonful of salt; but
mind you don't kill it with salt, for if you do, it won't rise. I
then add as much warm water, at blood-heat, as will mix it
into a stiff batter. I then put the jug into a pan of warm
water, and set it on the hearth near the fire, and keep it at the
same heat until it rises, which it generally will do, if you
attend to it, in two or three hours' time. When the bran
cracks at the top, and you see white bubbles rising through it,
you may strain it into your flour, and lay your bread. It
makes good bread."
Tom: "My good woman, I am greatly obliged to you.
We have no bran; can you give me a small quantity?"
Old woman: " I never give any thing. You Englishers,
who come out with stacks of money, can afford to buy."
Tom: "Sell me a small quantity."
Old woman: "I guess I will."  (Edging quite close, and
fixing her sharp eyes on hin.)  "You must be very rich to
buy bran."
Tom (quizzically): " Oh, very rich."
Old woman: " How do you get your money?"
Tom (sarcastically): "I don't steal it."
Old woman: " Pr'aps not. I guess you'll soon let others
do that for you if you don't take care. Are the people you
live with related to you?"
Tom (hardly able to keep his gravity): " On Eve's side.
They are my friends."




88            RO UGHING IT IN THE BUSH.
Old woman (in surprise): "i And do they keep you for
nothing, or do you work for your meat 2"
Tom   (impatiently): "Is that bran ready?"  (The old
woman goes to the bin, and measures out a quart of bran.)
"What am I to pay you?"
Old woman: " A York shilling."
Tom (wishing to test her honesty): "Is there any difference between a York shilling and a shilling of British currency T"
Old woman (evasively) "I guess not. Is there not a
place in England called York?"  (Looking up and leering
knowingly in hisface.)
" Tom (laughing): "You are not going to come York
over me in that way, or Yankee either. There is threepence
for your pound of bran; you are enormously paid."
Old woman (calling after him): "But the recipe; do you
allow nothing for the recipe?"
Tom: " It is included in the price of the bran."
" And so," said he, "I came laughing away, rejoicing in my
sleeve that I had disappointed the avaricious old cheat."
The next thing to be done was to set the bran rising. By
the help of Tom's recipe, it was duly mixed in the coffee-pot,
and placed within a tin pan, full of hot water, by the side of
the fire. I have often heard it said that a watched pot never
boils; and there certainly was no lack of watchers in this case.
Tom sat for hours regarding it with his large heavy eyes, the
maid inspected it from time to time, and scarce ten minutes
were suffered to elapse without my testing the heat of the water,
and the state of the emptyings; but the day slipped slowly
away, and night drew on, and yet the watched pot gave no
signs of vitality. Tom sighed deeply when he sat down to
tea with the old fare.
"Never mind," said he, "we shall get some good bread in




MY FIRST CANADIAN LOAF.              89
the morning; it must get up by that time, I will wait till then.
I could almost starve before I could touch these leaden cakes."
The tea-things were removed. Tom took up his flute, and
commenced a series of the wildest voluntary airs that ever
were breathed forth by human lungs. Mad jigs, to which the
gravest of mankind might have cut eccentric capers. We
were all convulsed with laughter. In the midst of one of
these droll movements, Tom suddenly hopped like a kangaroo
(which feat he performed by raising himself upon tip-toes, then
flinging himself forward with a stooping jerk), towards the
hearth, and squinting down into the coffee-pot in the most
quizzical manner, exclaimed, "Miserable chaff! If that does
not make you rise, nothing will."
I left the bran all night by the fire. Early in the morning
I had the satisfaction of finding that it had risen high above
the rim of the pot, and was surrounded by a fine crown of
bubbles.
" Better late than never," thought I, as I emptied the
emptyings into my flour. " Tom is not up yet. I will make
him so happy with a loaf of new bread, nice home-baked
bread, for his breakfast." It was my first Canadian loaf. I
felt quite proud of it, as I placed it in the odd machine in which
it was to be baked. I did not understand the method of baking in these ovens; or that my bread should have remained
in the kettle for half-an-hour, until it had risen the second
time, before I applied the fire to it, in order that the bread
should be light. It not only required experience to know
when it was in a fit state for baking, but the oven should have
been brought to a proper temperature to receive the bread.
Ignorant of all this, I put my unrisen loaf into a cold kettle,
and heaped a large quantity of hot ashes above and below it.
The first intimation I had of the result of my experiment was
the disagreeable odour of burning bread filling the house.




90            R 0 UGEIIG IT IN THE BUSH.
"What is this horrid smell 2" cried Tom, issuing from his
domicile, in his shirt-sleeves. " Do open the door, Bell (to the
maid); I feel quite sick."
"It is the bread," said I, taking off the lid of the oven with
the tongs. "Dear me, it is all burnt!"
" And smells as sour as vinegar," says he. "The black
bread of Sparta!"
Alas! for my maiden loaf! With a rueful face I placed it
on the breakfast-table. " I hoped to have given you a treat,
but I fear you will find it worse than the cakes in the pan."
"You may be sure of that," said Tom, as he stuck his
knife into the loaf, and drew it forth covered with raw dough.
" Oh, Mrs. Moodie! I hope you make better books than
bread."
We were all sadly disappointed. The others submitted to
my failure good-naturedly, and made it the subject of many
droll, but not unkindly, witticisms. For myself, I could have
borne the severest infliction from the pen of the most formidable critic with more fortitude than I bore the cutting up of
my first loaf of bread. After breakfast, Moodie and Wilson
rode into the town; and when they returned at night brought
several long letters for me. Ah! those first kind letters from
home! Never shall I forget the rapture with which I grasped
them-the eager, trembling haste with which I tore them
open,'while the blinding tears which filled my eyes hindered
me for some minutes from reading a word which they contained. Sixteen years have slowly passed away-it appears
half a century-but never, never can home letters give me the
intense joy those letters did. After seven years' exile, the
hope of return grows feeble, the means are still less in our
power, and our friends give up all hope of our return; their
letters grow fewer and colder, their expressions of attachment
are less vivid; the heart has formed new ties, and the poor




TOM WILSONYS DEPARTURE.             91
emigrant is nearly forgotten. Double those years, and it is as
if the grave had closed over you, and the hearts that once
knew and loved you, know you no more.
Tom, too, had a large packet of letters, which he read with
great glee. After re-perusing them, he declared his intention
of setting off on his return home the next day. We tried to
persuade him to stay until the following spring, and make a
fair trial of the country. Arguments were thrown away upon
him; the next morning our eccentric friend was ready to
start.
" Good-bye!" quoth he, shaking me by the hand as if he
meant to sever it from the wrist. " When next we meet it
will be in New South Wales, and I hope by that time you will
know how to make better bread." And thus ended Tom Wilson's emigration to Canada. He brought out three hundred
pounds, British currency; he remained in the country just four
months, and returned to England with barely enough to pay
his passage home.




92             RO UGHING IT IN THE BUSH.
CHAPTER VII.
UNCLE JOE AND HIS FAMILY.
"Ay, your rogue is a laughing rogue, and not a whit the less dangerous for the
smile on his lip, which comes not from an honest heart, which reflects the light of
the soul through the eye. All is hollow and dark within; and the contortion of the
lip, like the phosphoric glow upon decayed timber, only serves to point out the
rottenness within."
UNCLE JOE! I see him now before me, with his jolly red
face, twinkling black eyes, and rubicund nose. No thin,
weasel-faced Yankee was he, looking as if he had lived upon'cute ideas and speculations all his life; yet Yankee he was by
birth, ay, and in mind too; for a more knowing fellow at a
bargain never crossed the lakes to abuse British institutions
and locate himself comfortably among the despised Britishers.
But, then, he had such a good-natured, fat face, such a mischievous, mirth-loving smile, and such a merry, roguish expression in those small, jet-black, glittering eyes, that you
suffered yourself to be taken in by him, without offering the
least resistance to his impositions.
Uncle Joe's father had been a New England loyalist, and
his doubtful attachment to the British government had been
repaid by a grant of land in the township of H-. He was
the first settler in that township, and chose his location in a
remote spot, for the sake of a beautiful natural spring, which
bubbled up in a small stone basin in the green bank at the
back of the house.




UNCLE JOE AND HIS FAMILY.            93
"Father might have had the pick of the township," quoth
Uncle Joe; " but the old coon preferred that sup of good
water to the site of a town. Well, I guess it's seldom I
trouble the spring; and whenever I step that way to water the
horses, I think what a tarnation fool the old one was, to throw
away such a chance of making his fortune, for such cold lap."
"Your father was a temperance man?"
" Temperance!-He had been fond enough of the whiskey
bottle in his day. He drank up a good farm in the United
States, and then he thought he could not do better than turn
loyal, and get one here for nothing. He did not care a cent,
not he, for the King of England. He thought himself as good,
any how. But he found that he would have to work hard here
to scratch along, and he was mightily plagued with the rheumatics, and some old woman told him that good spring-water
was the best cure for that; so he chose this poor, light, stony
land on account of the spring, and took to hard work and
drinking cold water in his old age."
" How did the change agree with him?"
"I guess better than could have been expected. He plant.
ed that fine orchard, and cleared his hundred acres, and we
got along slick enough as long as the old fellow lived."
" And what happened after his death, that obliged you to
part with your land l"
" Bad times-bad crops," said Uncle Joe, lifting his shoulders. "I had not my father's way of scraping money together. I made some deuced clever speculations, but they all
failed. I married young, and got a large family; and the
women critters ran up heavy bills at the stores, and the crops
did not yield enough to pay them; and from bad we got to
worse, and Mr. C — put in an execution, and seized upon
the whole concern. He sold it to your man for double what
it cost him; and you got all what my father toiled for during




94           BROU-HING    I IT IN THE BUSEI
the last twenty years of his life for less than half the cash he
laid out upon clearing it."
"And had the whiskey nothing to do with this change l"
said I, looking him in the face suspiciously.
" Not a bit! When a man gets into difficulties, it is the
only thing to keep him from sinking outright. When your
husband has had as many troubles as I have had, he will know
how to value the whiskey bottle."
This conversation was interrupted by a queer-looking urchin of five years old, dressed in a long-tailed coat and trowsers, popping his black shock head in at the door, and calling
out,
" Uncle Joe!-You're wanted to hum."
"Is that your nephew?"
" No! I guess'tis my woman's eldest son," said Uncle Joe,
rising, "but they call me Uncle Joe.'Tis a spry chap thatas cunning as a fox. I tell you what it is-he will make a
smart man. Go home, Ammon, and tell your ma that I am
coming."
"I won't," said the boy; " you may go hum and tell her
yourself. She has wanted wood cut this hour, and you'll
catch it!"
Away ran the dutiful son, but not before he had applied
his forefinger significantly to the side of his nose, and, with a
knowing wink, pointed in the direction of home.
Uncle Joe obeyed the signal, dryly remarking that he could
not leave the barn door without the old hen clucking him back.
At this period we were still living in Old Satan's log house,
and anxiously looking out for the first snow to put us in possession of the good, substantial log dwelling occupied by Uncle Joe and his family, which consisted of a brown brood of
seven girls, and the highly-prized boy who rejoiced in the extraordinary name of Ammon.




iVsOLR JOE AND MIS P4MILY.             95
Strange names are to be found in this free country. What
think you, gentle reader, of Solomon Sly, Reynard Fox, and
Hiram Doolittle; all veritable names, and belonging to substantial yeomen? After Ammon and Ichabod, I should not
be at all surprised to meet with Judas Iscariot, Pilate, and
Herod. And then the female appellations! But the subject
is a delicate one, and I will forbear to touch upon it. I have
enjoyed many a hearty laugh over the strange afectations
which people designate here very handsome names. I prefer
the old homely Jewish names, such as that which it pleased
my godfather and godmothers to bestow upon me, to one of
those high-sounding christianities, the Minervas, Cinderellas,
and Almerias of Canada. The love of singular names is here
carried to a marvellous extent. It is only yesterday that, in
passing through one busy village, I stopped in astonishment
before a tombstone headed thus:-" Sacred to the memory
of Silence Sharman, the beloved wife of Asa Sharman." Was
the woman deaf and dumb, or did her friends hope by bestowing upon her such an impossible name to still the voice
of Nature, and check, by an admonitory appellative, the
active spirit that lives in the tongue of woman. Truly, Asa
Sharman, if thy wife was silent by nature as well as by name,
thou wert a fortunate man!
But to return to Uncle Joe. He made many fair promises of leaving the residence we had bought, the moment
he had sold his crops and could remove his family. We
could see no interest which could be served by his deceiving
us, and therefore we believed him, striving to make ourselves
as comfortable as we could in the mean time in our present
wretched abode. But matters are never so bad but that they
may be worse. One day when we were at dinner, a wagon
drove up to the door, and Mr. -- alighted, accompanied by
a fine-looking, middle-aged man, who proved to be Captain




96            R OUUGHITG IT IX TiE BUSH.
S —, who had just arrived from  Demerara with his wife
and family. Mr. —, who had purchased the farm of Old Satan, had brought Captain S   over to inspect the land, as
he wished to buy a farm, and settle in that neighbourhood.
With some difficulty I contrived to accommodate the visitors
with seats, and provide them with a tolerable dinner. Fortunately, Moodie had brought in a brace of fine fat partridges
that morning; these the servant transferred to a pot of boiling water, in which she immersed them for the space of a
minute-a novel but very expeditious way of removing the
feathers, which then come off at the least touch. In less than
ten minutes they were stuffed, trussed, and in the bake-kettle;
and before the gentlemen returned from walking over the
farm, the dinner was on the table.
To our utter consternation, Captain S —   agreed to pur.
chase, and asked if we could give him possession in a week!
"Good heavens!" cried I, glancing reproachfully at Mr.
-, who was discussing his partridge with stoical indifference. " What will become of us? Where are we to go?"
" Oh, make yourself easy; I will force that old witch,
Joe's mother, to clear out."
"But'tis impossible to stow ourselves into that pig-sty."
" It will only be for a week or two, at farthest. This is
October; Joe will be sure to be off by the first of the sleighing."
"But if she refuses to give up the place 2"
"Oh, leave her to me. I'll talk'her over," said the knowing land speculator. "Let it come to the worst," he said,
turning to my husband, "she will go out for the sake of a few
dollars. By the by, she refused to bar the dower when I
bought the place; we must cajole her out of that. It is a fine
afternoon; suppose we walk over the hill, and try our luck
with the old nigger?"




UNCLE JOE AND IIS FPAMILY.            97)
I felt so anxious about the result of the negotiation, that,
throwing my cloak over my shoulders, and tying on my bonnet without the assistance of a glass, I took my husband's
arm, and we walked forth. It was a bright, clear afternoon,
the first week in October, and the fading woods, not yet
denuded of their gorgeous foliage, glowed in a mellow, golden
light. A soft purple haze rested on the bold outline of the
Haldemand hills, and in the rugged beauty of the wild landscape I soon forgot the purport of our visit to the old
woman's log hut.
On reaching the ridge of the hill, the lovely valley in
which our future home lay, smiled peacefully upon us from
amidst its fruitful orchards, still loaded with their rich, ripe
fruit.
" What a pretty place it is 1" thought I, for the first time
feeling something like a local interest in the spot springing up
in my heart. "How I wish those odious people would give
us possession of the home which for some time has been
our own."
The log hut that we were approaching, and in which the old
woman, H —, resided by herself-having quarrelled years
ago with her son's wife-was of the smallest dimensions,
only containing one room, which served the old dame for
kitchen, and bedroom, and all. The open door, and a few
glazed panes, supplied it with light and air; while a huge
hearth, on which crackled two enormous logs-which are
technically termed a front and a back stick-took up nearly
half the domicile; and the old woman's bed, which was covered with an unexceptionably clean patched quilt, nearly the
other half, leaving just room for a small home-made deal
table, of the rudest workmanship, two basswood-bottomed
chairs, stained red, one of which was a rocking-chair, appropriated solely to the old woman's use, and a spinning-wheel.
5




98          ARO UGHING- IT IV THE B USEI
Amidst this muddle of things-for small as was the quantum
of furniture, it was all crowded into such a tiny space that
you had to squeeze your way through it in the best manner
you could-we found the old woman, with a red cotton handkerchief tied over her gray locks, hood-fashion, shelling white
bush-beans into a wooden bowl. Without rising from her
seat, she pointed to the only remaining chair. "I guess,
miss, you can sit there; and if the others can't stand, they
can make a seat of my bed."
The gentlemen assured her that they were not tired, and
could dispense with seats. Mr. -  then went up to the old
woman, and proffering his hand, asked after her health in his
blandest manner.
" I'm none the better for seeing you, or the like of you,"
was the ungracious reply. "You have cheated my poor boy
out of his good farm; and I hope it may prove a bad bargain
to you and yours."
"Mrs. H-," returned the land speculator, nothing ruffled by her unceremonious greeting, "I could not help your
son giving way to drink, and getting into my debt. If people
will be so imprudent, they cannot be so stupid as to imagine
that others can suffer for their folly."
"Suffer!" repeated the old woman, flashing her small,
keen black eyes upon him with a glance of withering scorn.
"You suffer! I wonder what the widows and orphans you
have cheated would say to that? My son was a poor, weak,
silly fool, to be sucked in by the like of you. For a debt of
eight hundred dollars-the goods never cost you four hundred
-you take from us our good farm; and these, I s'pose,"
pointing to my husband and me, " are the folk you sold it to.
Pray, miss," turning quickly to me, " what might your man
give for the place?"
"Three hundred pounds in cash.".




UtCLE JOE AND IffS FAMILY.o           99
"Poor sufferer!" again sneered the hag. " Four hundred
dollars is a very small profit in as many weeks. Well, I
guess, you beat the Yankees hollow. And pray, what brought
you here to-day, scenting about you like a carrion-crow? We
have no more land for you to seize from us."
Moodie now stepped forward, and briefly explained our
situation, offering the old woman any thing in reason to give
up the cottage and reside with her son until he removed from
the premises; which, he added, must be in a very short time.
The old dame regarded him with a sarcastic smile.  I
guess, Joe will take his own time. The house is not built
which is to receive him; and he is not a man to turn his
back upon a warm hearth to camp in the wilderness. You
were green when you bought a farm of that man, without
getting along with it the right of possession."
" But, Mrs. H-, your son promised to go out the first
of sleighing."
"Wheugh!" said the old woman. "Would you have a
man give away his hat and leave his own head bare? It's
neither the first snow nor the last frost that will turn Joe out
of his comfortable home. I tell you all that he will stay here,
if it is only to plague you."
Threats and remonstrances were alike useless, the old
woman remained inexorable; and we were just turning to
leave the house, when the cunning old fox exclaimed, "And
now, what will you give me to leave my place?"
" Twelve dollars, if you give us possession next Monday,"
said my husband.
" Twelve dollars! I guess you won't get me out for that."
"The rent would not be worth more than a dollar a
month," said Mr. --, pointing with his cane to the dilapidated walls. " Mr. Moodie has offered you a year's rent for
the place."




100          BOUG,ING IT IN THE BUSH.
"It may not be worth a cent," returned the woman; " for
it will give every body the rheumatism that stays a week in
it-but it is worth that to me, and more nor double that just
now to him. But I will not be hard with him," continued
she, rocking herself to and fro. "Say twenty dollars, and I
will turn out on Monday."
"I dare say you will," said Mr. -, "and who do you
think would be fool enough to give you such an exorbitant
sum for a ruined old shed like this 2"
" Mind your own business, and make your own bargains,"
returned the old woman, tartly. "The devil himself could
not deal with you, for I guess he would have the worst of it.
What do you say, sir?" and she fixed her keen eyes upon my
husband, as if she would read his thoughts. "Will you agree
to my price?"
"It is a very high one, Mrs. H-; but as I cannot help
myself, and you take advantage of that, I suppose I must
give it."
"'Tis a bargain," cried the old crone, holding out her
hard, bony hand. " Come, cash down!"
"Not until you give me possession on Monday next; or
you might serve me as your son has done."
"Ha!" said the old woman, laughing and rubbing her
hands together; "you begin to see daylight, do you? In a
few months, with the help of him," pointing to Mr. --,
"you will be able to go alone; but have a care of your:
teacher, for it's no good that you will learn from him. But
will you really stand to your word, mister?" she added, in a
coaxing tone, " if I go out on Monday?"
" To be sure I will; I never break my word."
Well, I guess you are not so clever as our people, for
they only keep it as long as it suits them. You have an honest-look; T will trust you; but I will not trust him," nodding




UNCLE JOE AND iIS FAMILY.            101
to Mti., "he can buy and sell his word as fast as a horse
can trot. So on Monday I will turn out my traps. I have
lived here six-and-thirty years;'tis a pretty place, and it
vexes me to leave it," continued the poor creature, as a touch
of natural feeling softened and agitated her world-hardened
heart. "There is not an acre in cultivation but I helped to
clear it, nor a tree in yonder orchard but I held it while my
poor man, who is dead and gone, planted it; and I have
watched the trees bud from year to year, until their boughs
overshadowed the hut, where all my children, but Joe, were
born. Yes, I came here young, and in my prime; and I must
leave it in age and poverty. My children and husband are
dead, and their bones rest beneath the turf in the buryingground on the side of the hill. Of all that once gathered about
my knees, Joe and his young ones alone remain. And it is
hard, very hard, that I must leave their graves to be turned
by the plough of a stranger."
I felt for the desolate old creature-the tears rushed to
my eyes; but there was no moisture in hers. No rain from
the heart could filter through that iron soil.
"Be assured, Mrs. H," said Moodie, "that the dead
will be held sacred; the place will never be disturbed by
me."
"Perhaps not; but it is not long that you will remain
here. I have seen a good deal in my time; but I never saw
a gentleman from the old country make a good Canadian
farmer. The work is rough and hard, and they get out of humour with it, and leave it to their hired helps, and then all
goes wrong. They are cheated on all sides, and in despair
take to the whiskey bottle, and that fixes them. I tell you
what it is, mister-I give you just three years to spend your
money and ruin yourself; and then you will become a confirmed drunkard, like the rest."




102          R UGING O  IT IT N THE B USH.
The first part of her prophecy was only too true. Thank
God! the last has never been fulfilled, and never can be.
Perceiving that the old woman was not a little elated with
her bargain, Mr. - urged upon her the propriety of barring the dower. At first, she was outrageous, and very abusive, and rejected all his proposals with contempt; vowing
that she would meet him in a certain place below, before she
would sign away her right tp the property.
" Listen to reason, Mrs. H —," said the land speculator.
"If you will sign the papers before the proper authorities, the
next time your son drives you to C-, I will give you a silk
gown."
"Pshaw! Buy a shroud for yourself; you will need it
before I want a silk gown," was the ungracious reply.
"Consider, woman; a black silk of the best quality."
"To mourn in for my sins, or for the loss of the
farm?"
" Twelve yards," continued Mr. -, without noticing her
rejoinder, " at a dollar a yard. Think what a nice churchgoing gown it will make."
"To the devil with you! I never go to church."
"I thought as much," said Mr. -, winking to us. " Well,
my dear madam, what will satisfy you?"
" I'll do it for twenty dollars," returned the old woman,
rocking herself to and fro in her chair; her eyes twinkling,
and her hands moving convulsively, as if she already grasped
the money so dear to her soul.
"Agreed," said.the land speculator. "When will you be
in town?"
" On Tuesday, if I be alive. But, remember, I'll not sign
till I have my hand on the money."
"Never fear," said Mr. —, as we quitted the house;
then, turning to me, he added, with a peculiar smile, " That's




UNCLE JOE AND HIS FAMILY.            1'a devilish smart woman. She would have made a clever
lawyer."
Monday came, and with it all the bustle of moving, and, as
is generally thei case on such occasions, it turned out a very
wet day. I left Old Satan's hut without regret, glad, at any
rate, to be in a place of my own, however humble. Our new
habitation, though small, had a decided advantage over the
one we were leaving. It stood on a gentle slope; and a narrow but lovely stream, full of pretty speckled trout, ran
murmuring under the little window; the house, also, was
surrounded by fine fruit-trees.
I know not how it was, but the sound of that tinkling
brook, for ever rolling by, filled my heart with a strange
melancholy, which for many nights deprived me of rest. I
loved it, too. The voice of waters, in the stillness of night,
always had an extraordinary effect upon my mind. Their
ceaseless motion and perpetual sound convey to me the idea
of life-eternal life; and looking upon them, glancing and
flashing on, now in sunshine, now in shade, now hoarsely
chiding with the opposing rock, now leaping triumphantly
over it,-creates within me a feeling of mysterious awe of
which I never could wholly divest myself.
A portion of my own spirit seemed to pass into that little
stream. In its deep wailings and fretful sighs, I fancied myself lamenting for the land I had left for ever; and its restless
and impetuous rushings against the stones which choked its
passage, were mournful types of my own mental struggles
against the strange destiny which hemmed me in. Through
the day the stream still moaned and travelled on,-but, engaged in my novel and distasteful occupations, I heard it not;
but whenever my winged thoughts flewy homeward, then the
voice of the brook spoke deeply and sadly to my heart, and
my tears flowed unchecked to its plaintive and harmonious
music.




104            OU GEHING IT IN THE BUSH.
In a few hours I had my new abode more comfortably
arranged than the old one, although its dimensions were much
smaller. The location was beautiful, and I was greatly consoled by this circumstance. The aspect of Nature ever did,
and I hope ever will continue,
"To shoot marvellous strength into my heart."
As long as we remain true to the Divine Mother, so long will
she remain faithful to her suffering children.
At that period my love for Canada was a feeling very
nearly allied to that which the condemned criminal entertains
for his cell-his only hope of escape being through the portals
of the grave.
The fall rains had commenced. In a few days the cold
wintry showers swept all the gorgeous crimson from the
trees; and a bleak and desolate waste presented itself to the
shuddering spectator. But, in spite of wind and rain, my
little tenement was never free from the intrusion of Uncle
Joe's wife and children. Their house stood about a stone'sthrow from the hut we occupied, in the same meadow, and
they seemed to look upon it still as their own, although we
had literally paid for it twice over. Fine strapping girls they
were, from five years old to fourteen, but rude and unnurtured as so many bears. They would come in without the
least ceremony, and, young as they were, ask me a thousand
impertinent questions; and when I civilly requested them to
leave the room, they would range themselves upon the doorstep, watching my motions, with their black eyes gleaming
upon me through their tangled, uncombed locks. Their company was a great annoyance, for it obliged me to put a painful
restraint upon the thoughtfulness in which it was so delightful
to me to indulge. Their visits were not visits of love, but of
mere idle curiosity, not unmingled with malicious hatred.




UNCLE JOE AND HIS FAMILY.            105
The simplicity, the fond, confiding faith of childhood, is
unknown in Canada. There are no children here. The boy
is a miniature man-knowing, keen, and wide awake; as able to
drive a bargain and take an advantage of his juvenile companion as the grown-up, world-hardened man. The girl, a gossipping flirt, full of vanity and affectation, with a premature
love of finery, and an acute perception of the advantages to
be derived from wealth, and from keeping up a certain appearance in the world.
The flowers, the green grass, the glorious sunshine, the
birds of the air, and the young lambs gambolling down the
verdant slopes, which fill the heart of a British child with a
fond ecstacy, bathing the young spirit in Elysium, would float
unnoticed before the vision of a Canadian child; while the
sight of a dollar, or a new dress, or a gay bonnet, would
swell its proud bosom with self-importance and delight. The
glorious blush of modest diffidence, the tear of gentle sympathy, are so rare on the cheek, or in the eye of the young, that
their appearance creates a feeling of surprise. Such perfect
self-reliance in beings so new to the world is painful to a
thinking mind.  It betrays a great want of sensibility and
mental culture, and a melancholy knowledge of the arts of
life.
For a week I was alone, my good Scotch girl having left
me to visit her father. Some small baby-articles were needed
to be washed, and after making a great preparation, I determined to try my unskilled hand upon the operation. The fact
is, I knew nothing about the task I had imposed upon myself,
and in a few minutes rubbed the skin off my wrists, without
getting the clothes clean.
The door was open, as it generally was, even during the
coldest winter days, in order to let in more light, and let out
the smoke, which otherwise would have enveloped us like a
5*




106           ROUGHIING IT IN THE BUSH.
cloud. I was so busy that I did not perceive that I was
watched by the cold, heavy, dark eyes of Mrs. Joe, who,
with a sneering laugh, exclaimed,
"Well, thank God! I am glad to see you brought to
work at last. I hope you may have to work as hard as I
have. I don't see, not I, why you, who are no better than
me, should sit still all day, like a lady!"
"Mrs. H —," said I, not a little annoyed at her presence,
"what concern is it of yours whether I work or sit still? I
never interfere with you. If you took it into your head to
lie in bed all day, I should never trouble myself about it."
" Ah, I guess you don't look upon us as fellow-critters, you
are so proud and grand. I s'pose you Britishers are not made
of flesh and blood like us. You don't choose to sit down at
meat with your helps. Now, I calculate, we think them a
great deal better nor you."
"Of course," said I, " they are more suited to you than we
are; they are uneducated, and so are you. This is no fault
in either; but it might teach you to pay a little more respect
to those who are possessed of superior advantages. But, Mrs.
H —, my helps, as you call them, are civil and obliging,
and never make unprovoked and malicious speeches. If they
could so far forget themselves, I should order them to leave
the house."
" Oh, I see what you are up to," replied the insolent dame;
"you mean to say that if I were your help you would turn
me out of your house; but I'm a free-born American, and I
won't go at your bidding. Don't think I come here out of
regard to you. No, I hate you all; and I rejoice to see you
at the wash-tub, and I wish that you may be brought down
upon your knees to scrub the floors."
This speech only caused a smile, and yet I felt hurt and
astonished that a woman whom I had never done any thing




UNCLE JOE AND HIS FAMILY.           107
to offend should be so gratuitously spiteful. In the evening
she sent two of her brood over to borrow my " long iron," as
she called an Italian iron. I was just getting my baby to
sleep, sitting upon a low stool by the fire. I pointed to the
iron upon the shelf, and told the girl to take it. She did so,
but stood beside me, holding it carelessly in her hand, and
staring at the baby, who had just sunk to sleep upon my
lap.
The next moment the heavy iron fell from her relaxed
grasp, giving me a severe blow upon my knee and foot: and
glanced so near the child's head that it drew from me a cry
of terror.
"I guess that was nigh braining the child," quoth Miss
Amanda, with the greatest coolness, and without making the
least apology. Master Ammon burst into a loud laugh. "If
it had, Mandy, I guess we'd have cotched it." Provoked at
their insolence, I told them to leave the house. The tears
were in my eyes, for I felt certain that had they injured the
child, it would not have caused them the least regret.
The next day, as we were standing at the door, my husband was greatly amused by seeing fat Uncle Joe chasing the
rebellious Ammon over the meadow in front of the house.
Joe was out of breath, panting and puffing like a small steamengine, and his face flushed to deep red with excitement and
passion. " You -- young scoundrel!" he cried, half choked
with fury, " if I catch up to you, I'll take the skin off you!"
"You -- old scoundrel, you may have my skin if you
can get at me," retorted the precious child, as he jumped up
upon the top of the high fence, and doubled his fist in a menacing manner at his father.
" That boy is growing too bad," said Uncle Joe, coming up
to us out of breath, the perspiration streaming down his face.
"It is time to break him in, or he'll get the master of us all."




108          RO UGHIING IT iT THE B USH
" You should have begun that before," said Moodie. "He
seems a hopeful pupil."
" Oh, as to that, a little swearing is manly," returned the
father;  I swear myself, I know, and as the old cock crows,
so crows the young one. It is not his swearing that I care a
pin for, but he will not do a thing I tell him to."
" Swearing is a dreadful vice," said I, " and, wicked as it is
in the mouth of a grown-up person, it is perfectly shocking in
a child; it painfully tells he has been brought up' without the
fear of God."
"Pooh! pooh! that's all cant; there is no harm in a few
oaths, and I cannot drive oxen and horses without swearing.
I dare say that you can swear too when you are riled, but you
are too cunning to let us hear you."
I could not help laughing outright at this supposition, but
replied very quietly, " Those who practise such iniquities never
take any pains to conceal them. The concealment would infer a species of shame; and when people are conscious of
their guilt, they are in the road to improvement."  The man
walked whistling away, and the wicked child returned unpunished to his home.
The next minute the old woman came in. "I guess you
can give me a piece of silk for a hood," said she, "the weather
is growing considerable cold."
"Surely it cannot well be colder than it is at present,"
said I, giving her the rocking-chair by the fire.
"Wait a while; you know nothing of a Canadian winter.
This is only November; after the Christmas thaw, you'll
know something about cold.  It is seven-and-thirty years
ago since I and my man left the U-ni-ted States. It was
called the year of the great winter. I tell you, woman,
that the snow lay so deep on the earth that it blocked up all
the roads, and we could drive a sleigh whither we pleased,




UNCLE JOE AND3r HIS FAMILY.          109
right over the snake fences. All the cleared land was one
wide white level plain; it was a year of scarcity, and we
were half starved; but the severe cold was far worse nor the
want of provisions. A long and bitter journey we had of
it; but I was young then, and pretty well used to trouble and
fatigue; my man stuck to the British government. More
fool he! I was an American born, and my heart was with
the true cause. But his father was English, and, says he,'I'll live and die under their flag.' So he dragged me from
my comfortable fireside to seek a home in the far Canadian
wilderness.  Trouble! I guess you think you have your
troubles; but what are they to mine 2" She paused, took
a pinch of snuff, offered me the box, sighed painfully, pushed
the red handkerchief from her high, narrow, wrinkled brow,
and continued:-" Joe was a baby then, and I had another
helpless critter in my lap-an adopted child. My sister had
died from it, and I was nursing it at the same breast with
my boy. Well, we had to perform a journey of four hundred
miles in an ox-cart, which carried, besides me and the children, all our household stuff. Our way lay chiefly through
the forest, and we made but slow progress. Oh! what a
bitter cold night it was when we reached the swampy woods
where the city of Rochester now stands. The oxen were
covered with icicles, and their breath sent up clouds of
steam.'Nathan,' says I to my man, you must stop and
kindle a fire; I am dead with cold, and I fear the babes
will be frozen.' We began looking about for a good spot
to camp in, when I spied a light through the trees. It was
a lone shanty, occupied by two French lumberers. The men
were kind; they rubbed our frozen limbs with snow, and
shared with us their supper and buffalo skins. On that very
spot where we camped that night, where we heard nothing
but the wind soughing amongst the trees, and the rushing




110           RO UGINIG IT IN THE BUSH.
of the river, now stands the great city of Rochester. I
went there two years ago, to the funeral of a brother. It'
seemed to me like a dream. Where we foddered our beasts
by the shanty fire, now stands the largest hotel in the city;
and my husband left this fine growing country to starve here."
I was so much interested in the old woman's narrativefor she was really possessed of no ordinary capacity, and
though rude and uneducated might have been a very superior
person undei different circumstances-that I rummaged among
my stores, and soon found a piece of black silk, which I gave
her for the hood she required.
The old woman examined it carefully over, smiled to herself, but, like all her people, was too proud to return a word
of thanks. One gift to the family always involved another.
" Have you any cotton-batting, or black sewing-silk, to give
me, to quilt it with?"
" No."'
" Humph," returned the old dame, in a tone which seemed
to contradict my assertion. She then seated herself in her
chair, and, after shaking her foot awhile, and fixing her piercing eyes upon me for some minutes, she commenced the following list of interrogatories:" Is your father alive?"
"No; he died many years ago, when I was a young girl."
"Is your mother alive'?"
" Yes."
"What is her name "   I satisfied her on this point.
" Did she ever marry again?"
" She might have done so, but she loved her husband too
well, and preferred living single."
"Humph! We have no such notions here. What was
your father?"
" A gentleman, who lived upon his own estate."




UNCLE JOE AND HIS FAMILY            111
"Did he die rich?"
"He lost the greatest part of his property from being
surety for another."
"That's a foolish business. My man burnt his fingers with
that. And what brought you out to this poor country-you,
who are no more fit for it than I am to be a fine lady?"
"The promise of a large grant of land, and the false statements we heard regarding it."
"Do you like the country?"
"No; and I fear I never shall."
" I thought not; for the drop is always on your cheek, the
children tell me; and those young ones have keen eyes.
Now, take my advice: return while your money lasts; the
longer you remain in Canada the less you will like it; and
when your money is all spent, you will be like a bird in a
cage; you may beat your wings against the bars, but you
can't get out." There was a long pause. I hoped that my
guest had sufficiently gratified her curiosity, when she again
commenced:" How do you get your money?    Do you draw it from
the old country, or have you it with you in cash?"
Provoked by her pertinacity, and seeing no end to her
cross-questioning, I replied, very impatiently, "Mrs. H-,
is it the custom in your country to catechise strangers whenever you meet with them?"
" What do you mean?" said she, colouring, I believe, for
the first time in her life.
"I mean," quoth I, " an evil habit of asking impertinent
questions."
The old woman got up, and left the house without speaking
another word.




:112         ROU GE6ING IT IN I  THE B TSK.
CHAPTER VIII.
JOHN MONAGHAN.
"Dear mother Nature! on thy ample breast
Hast thou not room for thy neglected son?
A stern necessity has driven him forth
Alone and friendless. He has naught but thee,
And the strong hand and stronger heart thou gavest,
To win with patient toil his daily bread."
A FEW days after the old woman's visit to the cottage, our
servant James absented himself for a week, without asking leave, or giving any intimation of his intention. He had
under his care a fine pair of horses, a yoke of oxen, three
cows, and a numerous family of pigs, besides having to chop
all the firewood required for our use. His unexpected departure caused no small trouble in the family; and when the
truant at last made his appearance, Moodie discharged him
altogether.
The winter had now fairly set in-the iron whiter of 1833.
The snow was unusually deep, and it being our first winter in
Canada, and passed in such a miserable dwelling, we felt it very
severely. In spite of all my boasted fortitude-and I think
my powers of endurance have been tried to the uttermost since
my sojourn in this country-the rigour of the climate subdued
my proud, independent English spirit, and I actually shamed
my womanhood and cried with the cold. Yes, I ought to
blush at evincing such unpardonable weakness; but I was
foolish and inexperienced, and unaccustomed to the yoke.




JOHN'ONAGHAN                 113
My husband did not much relish performing the menial
duties of a servant in such weather, but he did not complain, and in the mean time commenced an active inquiry for
a man to supply the place of the one he had lost; but at that
season of the year no one was to be had.
It was a bitter, freezing night. A sharp wind howled without, and drove the fine snow through the chinks in the door,
almost to the hearth-stone, on which two immense blocks of
maple shed forth a cheering glow, brightening the narrow
window-panes, and making the blackened rafters ruddy with
the heart-invigorating blaze. The toils of the day were over,
the supper-things cleared away, and the door closed for the
night. Moodie had taken up his flute, the sweet companion
of happier days, at the earnest request of our home-sick Scotch
servant-girl, to cheer her drooping spirits by playing some of
the touching national airs of the glorious mountain land, the
land of chivalry and song, the heroic North. Before retiring
to rest, Bell, who had an exquisite ear for music, kept time
with foot and hand, while large tears gathered in her soft blue
eyes.
"Ay,'tis bonnie thae songs'; but they mak' me greet, an'
my puir heart is sair, sair when I think on the bonnie braes
and the days o' lang syne."
Poor Bell! Her heart was among the hills, and mine had
wandered far, far away to the green groves and meadows of
my own fair land. The music and our reveries were alike
abruptly banished by a sharp blow upon the door. Bell rose
and opened it, when a strange, wild-looking lad, barefooted,
and with no other covering to his head than the thick, matted
locks of raven blackness, that hung like a cloud over his
swarthy, sunburnt visage, burst into the room.
" Guidness defend us! Wha ha'e we here?" screamed
Bell, retreating into a corner. " The puir callant's no cannie."




114          R 0 UHIN G    IT IN THE BUSH.
My husband turned hastily round to meet the intruder,
and I raised the candle from the table the better to distinguish
his face; while Bell, from her hiding-place, regarded him with
unequivocal glances of fear and mistrust, waving her hands to
me, and pointing significantly to open the door, as if silently
beseeching me to tell her master to turn him out.
" Shut the door, man," said Moodie, whose long scrutiny of
the strange being before us seemed upon the whole satisfactory; " we shall be frozen."
" Thin, faith, sir, that's what I am," said the lad in a rich
brogue, which told, without asking, the country to which he
belonged. Then stretching his bare hands to the fire, he continued, " By Jove, sir, I was never so near gone in my life!"
" Where do you come from, and what is your business
here? You must be aware that this is a very late hour to
take a house by storm in this way."
"Thrue for you, sir. But necessity knows no law; and the
condition you see me in must plade for me. First, thin, sir, I
come from the township of D —, and want a masther; and
next to that, bedad! I want something to ate. As I'm alive,
and'tis a thousand pities that I'm alive at all at all, for sure
God Almighty never made sich a misfortunate crather afore
nor since; I have had nothing to put in my head since I ran
away from my ould masther, Mr. F —, yesterday at noon.
Money I have none, sir; the divil a cent. I have neither a shoe
to my foot nor a hat to my head, and if you refuse to shelter
me the night, I must be contint to perish in the snow, for I
have not a frind in the wide wurld."
The lad covered his face with his hands, and sobbed
aloud.
"Bell," I whispered; "go to the cupboard and get the
poor fellow something to eat. The boy is starving."
"Dinna heed him, mistress, dinna credit his lees. He is




JOHN iMONA GIOAN                115
ane o' those wicked Papists wha ha' just stepped in to rob and
murder us."
"Nonsense! Do as I bid you."
"I winna be fashed aboot him. An' if he bides here, I'll
e'en flit by the first blink o' the morn."
"Isabel, for shame! Is this acting like a Christian, or
doing as you would be done by?"
Bell was as obstinate as a rock, not only refusing to put
down any food for the famished lad, but reiterating her threat
of leaving the house if he were suffered to remain. My husband, no longer able to endure her selfish and absurd conduct,
got angry in good earnest, and told her that she might please
herself; that he did not mean to ask her leave as to whom he
received into his house. I, for my part, had no idea that she
would realize her threat. She was an excellent servant, clean,
honest, and industrious, and loved the dear baby.
" You will think better of it in the morning," said I, as I
rose and placed before the lad some cold beef and bread, and
a bowl of milk, to which the runaway did ample justice.
"Why did you quit your master, my lad?" said Moodie.
"Because I could live wid him no longer. You see, sir,
I'm a poor foundling from the Belfast Asylum, shoved out by
the mother that bore me, upon the wide world, long before I
knew that I was in it. As I was too young to spake for
myself intirely, she put me into a basket, wid a label round
my neck, to tell the folks that my name was John Monaghan.
This was all I ever got from my parents; and who or what
they were, I never knew, not I, for they never claimed me:
bad cess to them! But I've no doubt it's a fine illigant gintleman he was, and herself a handsome, rich young lady, who
dare not own me for fear of affronting the rich jintry, her father
and mother.  Poor folk, sir, are never ashamed of their children;'tis all the treasure they have, sir; but my parents




-11i6        RO 0GHING IT If THE BUSH.
were ashamed of me, and they thrust me out to the stranger
and the hard bread of depindence."  The poor lad sighed
deeply, and I began to feel a growing interest in his sad
history.
"Have you been in the country longl"
"Four years, madam.    You know my masther, Mr.
F —-; he brought me out wid him as his apprentice, and
during the voyage he trated me well. But the young men,
his sons, are tyrants, and full of durty pride; and I could not
agree wid them at all at all.  Yesterday, I forgot to take the
oxen out of the yoke, and Musther William tied me up to a
stump, and bate me with the raw hide. Shure the marks are
on my showlthers yet. I left the oxen and the yoke, and
turned my back upon them all, for the hot blood was bilin'
widin me; and I felt that if I stayed it would be him that
would get the worst of it. No one had ever cared for me
since I was born, so I thought it was high time to take care
of myself. I had heard your name, sir, and I thought I would
find you out; and if you want a lad, I will work for you for
my kape, and a few dacent clothes."
A bargain was soon made. Moodie agreed to give Monaghan six dollars a month, which he thankfully accepted; and
I told Bell to prepare his bed in a corner of the kitchen. But
mistress Bell thought fit to rebel. Having been guilty of one
act of insubordination, she determined to be consistent, and
throw off the yoke altogether.  She declared that shJ would
do no such thing; that her life and all our lives were in
danger; and that she would never stay another night under
the same roof with that Papist vagabond.
"Papist!" cried the indignant lad, his dark eyes flashing
fire, "I'm no Papist, but a Protestant like yourself; and I
hope a deuced dale better Christian. You take me for a
thief; yet shure a thief would have waited till you were all




JOHN MONAGEAN.                  117
in bed and asleep, and not stepped in forenint you all in this
fashion."
There was both truth and nature in the lad's argument;
but Bell, like an obstinate woman as she was, chose to adhere
to her own opinion. Nay, she even carried her absurd prejudices so far that she brought her mattress and laid it-down on
ihe floor in my room, for fear that the Irish vagabond should
murder her during the night. By the break of day she was
off; leaving me for the rest of the winter without a servant.
Monaghan did all in his power to supply her place; he lighted
the fires, swept the house, milked the cows, nursed the baby,
and often cooked the dinner for me, and endeavoured by a
thousand little attentions to show the gratitude he really felt
for our kindness. To little Katie he attached himself in an
extraordinary manner. All his spare time he spent in making
little sleighs and toys for her, or in dragging her in the said
sleighs up and down the steep hills in front of the house,
wrapped up in a blanket. Of a night, he cooked her mess of
bread and milk, as she sat by the fire, and his greatest delight
was to feed her himself. After this operation was over, he
would carry her round the floor on his back, and sing her
songs in native Irish. Katie always greeted his return from
the woods with a scream of joy, holding up her fair arms to
clasp the neck of her dark favourite.
"Now the Lord love you for a darlint!" he would cry, as
he caught L-.r to his heart. "Shure you are the only one of
the crathers he ever made who can love poor John Monaghan.
Brothers and sisters I have none-I stand alone in the wurlq,
and your bonny wee face is the sweetest thing it contains for
me. Och, jewil! I could lay down my life for you, and be
-proud to do that same."
Though careless and reckless about every thing that concerned himself, John was honest and true. He loved us for




118           BOUGsINm'G I'T N TIlE Bv USi
the compassion we had shown him; and he would have
resented any injury offered to our persons with his best
blood.
But if we were pleased with our new servant, Uncle Joe
and his family were not, and they commenced a series of
petty persecutions that annoyed him greatly, and kindled into
a flame all the fiery particles of his irritable nature.
Moodie had purchased several tons of hay of a neighbouring farmer, for the use of his cattle, and it had to be stowed
into the same barn with some flax and straw that belonged to
Uncle Joe. Going early one morning to fodder the cattle,
John found Uncle Joe feeding his cows with his master's hay,
and as it had diminished greatly in a very short time, he ac
cused him in no measured terms of being the thief. The
other very coolly replied that he had taken a little of the hay
in order to repay himself for his flax,;that Monaghan had
stolen for the oxen. "Now by the powers!" quoth John,
kindling into wrath, " that is adding a big lie to a dirthy petty
larceny. I take your flax, you ould villain! Shure I know
that flax is grown to make linen wid, not to feed oxen. God
Almighty has given the crathers a good warm coat of their
own; they require neither shifts nor shirts."
"I saw you take it, you ragged Irish vagabond, with my
own eyes."
"Thin your two eyes showed you a wicked illu —ion. You
had better shut up your head, or I'll give you that for an
eye-salve that shall make you see thrue for the time to
corle."
Relying upon his great size, and thinking that the slight
stripling, who, by the by, was all bones and sinews, was no
match for him, Uncle Joe struck Monaghan over the head with
the pitchfork. In a moment the active lad was upon him like
a wild-cat, and in spite of the difference of his age and weight,




TOFN MONA GAV:.               119
gave the big man such a thorough dressing that he was fain
to roar aloud for mercy.
"Own that you are a thief and a liar, or I'll murther you!"
"I'll own to any thing whilst your knee is pressing me
into a pancake. Come now-there's a good lad-let me get
up." Monaghan felt irresolute, but after extorting from Uncle
Joe a promise never to purloin any of the hay again, he let
him rise.
"For shure," he said, "he began to turn so black in the
face, I thought he'd burst intirely."
The fat man neither forgot nor forgave this injury; and
though he dared not attack John personally, he set the children to insult and affront him upon all occasions. The boy
was without socks, and I sent him to old Mrs. H-, to inquire of her what she would charge for knitting him two pairs
of socks. The reply was, a dollar. This was agreed to, and
dear enough they were; but the weather was very cold, and
the lad was barefooted, and there was no other alternative
than either to accept her offer, or for him to go without.
In a few days, Monaghan brought them home; but I found
upon inspecting them that they were old socks new-footed.
This was rather too glaring a cheat, and I sent the lad back
with them, and told him to inform Mrs. H —   that as he had
agreed to give the price for new socks, he expected them to
be new al- gether.
The avaricious old woman did not deny the fact, but she
fell to cursing and swearing in an awful manner, and wished
so much evil to the lad, that, with the superstitious fear so
common to the natives of his country, he left her under the
impression that she was gifted with'the evil eye, and was an
" owld witch."  He never went out of the yard with the wagon and horses, but she rushed to the door, and cursed him
for a bare-heeled Irish blackguard, and wished that he might




120:         OUGIIG If I N THE B USTE.
overturn the wagon, kill the horses, and break his own
worthless neck.
" Ma'arm," said John to me one day, after returning from
C —    with the team, "it would be betther for me to lave
the masther intirely; for shure if I do not, some mischief
will befall me or the crathers. That wicked owld wretch! I
cannot thole her curses. Shure it's in purgatory I am all the
while."
"Nonsense, Monaghan! you are not a Catholic, and need
not fear purgatory. The next time the old woman commences her reprobate conduct, tell her to hold her tongue, and
mind her own business, for curses, like chickens, come home
to roost.
The boy laughed heartily at the old Turkish proverb, but
did not reckon much on its efficacy to still the clamorous
tongue of the ill-natured old jade. The next day he had to
pass her door with the horses. No sooner did she hear the
sound of- the wheels, than out she hobbled, and commenced
her usual anathemas.
"Bad luck to yer croaking, yer ill-conditioned owld raven.
It is not me you are desthroying sure, but yer own poor miserable sinful sowl. The owld one has the grief of ye already,
for' curses, like chickens, come home to roost;' so get in wid
ye, and hatch them to yerself in the chimley corner. They'll
all be roosting wid ye by and by; and a nice warm nest
they'll make for you, considering the brave brood that belongs
to you."
Whether the old woman was as superstitious as John, I
know not; or whether she was impressed with the moral
truth of the proverb-for, as I have before stated, she was no
fool-is difficult to tell; but she shrunk back into her den,
and never attacked the lad again.
Poor John bore no malice in his heart, not he; for, in




JOHN OIONAG-HAN.               121
spite of all the ill-natured things he had to endure from Uncle
Joe and his family, he never attempted to return evil for'evil.
In proof of this, he was one day chopping firewood in the bush,
at some distance from Joe, who was engaged in the same employment with another man. A tree in falling caught upon
another, which, although a very large maple, was hollow and
very much decayed, and liable to be blown down by the least
shock of the wind. The tree hung directly over the path that
Uncle Joe was obliged to traverse daily with his team. He
looked up, and perceived, from the situation it occupied, that
it was necessary for his own safety to cut it down; but he
lacked courage to undertake so hazardous a job, which might
be attended, if the supporting tree gave way during the operation, with very serious consequences. In a careless tone, he
called to his companion to cut down the tree.
" Do it yourself, H —," said the axe man, with a grin.
"My wife and children want their man as much as your
Hannah wants you."
" I'll not put axe to it," quoth Joe. Then, making signs
to his comrade to hold his tongue, he shouted to Monaghan,
" Hollo, boy! you're wanted here to cut down this tree.
Don't you see that your master's cattle might be killed if
they should happen to pass under it, and it should fall upon
them."
"Thrue for you, Masther Joe; but your own cattle would
have the first chance. Why should I risk my life and limbs,
by cutting down the tree, when it was yerself that threw it so
awkwardly over the other 2"
" Oh, but you are a boy, and have no wife and children to
depend upon you for bread," said Joe, gravely. "We are
both family men. Don't you see that tis your duty to cut
down the tree?"
The lad swung the axe to and fro in his hand, eyeing Joe
6




122           BO   HImLVG IT IT THE BUBSH.
and the tree alternately; but the natural kind-heartedness of
the creature, and his reckless courage, overcame all idea of
self-preservation, and raising aloft his slender but muscular
arm, he cried out, " If it's a life that must be sacrificed, why
not mine as well as another?  Here goes! and the Lord
have mercy on my sinful sowl!"
The tree fell, and, contrary to their expectations, without
any injury to John. The knowing Yankee burst into a loud
laugh. " Well, if you arn't a tarnation soft fool, I never saw
one."
"What do you mane V" exclaimed John, his dark eyes
flashing fire. " If'tis to insult me for doing that which neither
of you dared to do, you had better not thry that same. You
have just seen the strength of my spirit. You had better not
thry again the strength of my arm, or, maybe, you and the
tree would chance to share the same fate;" and, shouldering
his axe, the boy strode down the hill, to get scolded by me
for his foolhardiness.
The first week in March, all the people were busy making
maple sugar. " Did you ever taste any maple sugar, ma'arm?"
asked Monaghan, as he sat feeding Katie one evening by the
fire.
"No, John."
"Well, then, you've a thrate to come; and it's myself that
will make Miss Katie, the darlint, an illigant lump of that
same."
Early in the morning John was up, hard at work, making
troughs for the sap. By noon he had completed a dozen,
which he showed me with great pride of heart. I felt a little
curious about this far-famed maple sugar, and asked a thousand questions about the use to which the troughs were to
be applied; how the trees were to be tapped, the sugar made,
and if it were really good when made?




JOEHN MLONAGHAN.               123
To all my queries, John responded, " Och!'tis illigant. It
bates all the sugar that ever was made in Jamaky. But
you'll see before to-morrow night."
Moodie was away at P —, and the prospect of the maple
sugar relieved the dullness occasioned by his absence. I
reckoned on showing him a piece of sugar of our own making
when he came home, and never dreamt of the possibility of
disappointment.
John tapped his trees after the most approved fashion, and
set his troughs to catch the sap; but Miss Amanda and Master Ammon upset them as fast as they filled, and spilt all
the sap.  With great difficulty, Monaghan saved the contents of one large iron pot. This he brought in about nightfall, and made up a roaring fire, in order to boil it down
into sugar.  Hour after hour passed away, and the sugarmaker looked as hot and black as the stoker in a steamboat. Many times I peeped into the large pot, but the sap
never seemed to diminish.
" This is a tedious piece of business," thought I, but seeing
the lad so anxious, I said nothing. About twelve o'clock, he
asked me, very mysteriously, for a piece of pork to hang
over the sugar.
"Pork!" said I, looking into the pot, which was half
full of a very black-looking liquid; " what do you want with
pork."
" Shure, an''tis to keep the sugar from burning."
"But, John, I see no sugar!"
" Och, but'tis all sugar, only'tis molasses jist now. See
how it sticks to the ladle. Aha! but Miss Katie will have the
fine lumps of sugar when she awakes in the morning."
"I grew so tired and sleepy that I left John to finish
his job, went to bed, and soon forgot all about the maple
sugar. At breakfast I observed a small plate upon the table,




124          ROUGHINCG IT IN THE B USH.
placed in a very conspicuous manner on the tea-tray, the bottom covered with a hard, black substance, which very much
resembled pitch.  " What is that dirty-looking stuff, John?"
".Shure an''tis the maple sugar."
"Can people eat that 2"
"By dad, an' they can; only thry it, ma'arm."
" Why,'tis so hard, I cannot cut it."
With some difficulty, and not without cutting his finger,
John broke a piece off, and stuffed it in the baby's mouth.
The poor child made a horrible face, and rejected it as if it
had been poison. For my own part, I never tasted any thing
more nauseous. It tasted like a compound of pork grease
and tobacco juice. " Well, Monaghan, if this be maple sugar,
I never wish to taste any again."
" Och, bad luck to it!" said the lad, flinging it away, plate
and all. " It would have been first-rate but for the dirty pot,
and the blackguard cinders, and its burning to the bottom of
the pot. That owld hag, Mrs. H —, bewitched it with her
evil eye."
" She is not so clever as you think, John," said I, laughing.
"You have forgotten how to make the sugar since you left
D —; but let us forget the maple sugar, and think of something else. Had you not better get old Mrs. H —   to mend
that jacket for you; it is too ragged."
" Ay, dad! and it's mysel' is the illigant tailor. Wasn't I
brought up to the thrade in the Foundling Hospital?"
" Ald why did you quit it 2"
"Because it's a low, mane thrade for a jintleman's son?"
"But, John, who told you that you were a gentleman's
son?"
" Och! but I'm shure of it, thin. All my propensities are
jintale. I love horses, and dogs, and fine clothes, and money.
Och! that I was but a jintleman! I'd show them what life




JOHNY MO3AG HA2i                125
is intirely, and I'd challenge Masther William, and have my
revenge out of him for the blows he gave me."
" You had better mend your trowsers," said I, giving him
a tailor's needle, a pair of scissors, and some strong thread.
" Shure, an' I'll do that same in a brace of shakes," and
sitting down upon a ricketty three-legged stool of his own
manufacturing, he commenced his tailoring by tearing off a
piece of his trowsers to patch the elbows of his jacket. And
this trifling act, simple as it may appear, was a perfect type
of the boy's general conduct, and marked his progress through
life. The present for him was every thing; he had no future.
While he supplied stuff from the trowsers to repair the fractures in the jacket, he never reflected that both would be
required on the morrow. Poor John! in his brief and reckless career, how often have I recalled that foolish act of his.
It now appears to me that his whole life was spent in tearing
his trowsers to repair his jacket.
In the evening John asked me for a piece of soap.
" What do you want with soap, John?"
"To wash my shirt, ma'arm. Shure an' I'm a baste to be
seen, as black as the pots. Sorra a shirt have I but the one,
an' it has stuck on my back so long that I can thole it no
longer."
I looked at the wrists and collar of the condemned garment, which was all of it that John allowed to be visible.
They were much in need of soap and water.
"Well, John, I will leave you the soap; but can you
wash?"
" Och, shure, an' I can thry. If I soap it enough, and rub
long enough, the shirt must come clane at last."
I thought the matter rather doubtful; but when I went to
bed I left what he required, and soon saw through the chinks
in the boards a roaring fire, and heard John whistling over




126          RO UGHINGr IT IV THE BtUSH.
the tub. He whistled and rubbed, and washed and scrubbed,
but as there seemed no end to the job, and he was as long
washing this one garment as Bell would have been performing
the same operation on fifty, I laughed to myself, and thought
of my own abortive attempts in that way, and went fast
asleep. In the morning John came to his breakfast, with his
jacket buttoned up to his throat.
" Could you not dry your shirt by the fire, John? You
will get cold wanting it."
" Aha, by dad! it's dhry enough now. The divil has made
tinder of it long afore this."
"Why, what has happened to it? I heard you washing
all night."
" Washing! Faith, an' I did scrub it till my hands were
all ruined intirely, and thin I took the brush to it; but sorra
a bit of the dirt could I get out of it. The more I rubbed the
blacker it got, until I had used up all the soap, and the perspiration was pouring off me like rain.' You dirthy owld bit
of a blackguard of a rag,' says I, in an extremity of rage,'you're not fit for the back of a dacent lad an' a jintleman.
The divil may take ye to cover one of his imps;' an' wid that
I sthirred up the fire, and sent it plump into the middle of the
blaze."
"And what will you do for a shirt?"
" Faith, do as many a betther man has done afore me, go
widout."
I looked up two old shirts of my husband's, which John
received with an ecstacy of delight. He retired instantly to
the stable, but soon returned, with as much of the linen breast
of the garment displayed as his waistcoat would allow. No
peacock was ever prouder of his tail than the wild Irish lad
was of the old shirt.
John had been treated very much like a spoiled child, and,




JOEHN MONA GHAlV                127
like most spoiled children, he was rather ford of having his
own way. Moodie had set him to do something which was
rather contrary to his own inclinations; he did not object to
the task in words, for he was rarely saucy to his employers,
but he left the following stave upon the table, written in
pencil upon a scrap of paper torn from the back of an old
letter:" A man alive, an ox may drive
Unto a springing well;
To make him drink, as he may think,
No man can him compel.
"JOIrN MONAGHAN."




128          OR UGHHING IT IN THE BUSH.
CHAPTER IX.
PHCEBE H —-, AND OUR SECOND MOVING.
" She died in early womanhood,
Sweet scion of a stem so rude;
A child of Nature, free from art,
With candid brow and open heart;
The flowers she loved now gently wave
Above her low and nameless grave."
T was during the month of March that Uncle Joe's eldest
daughter, Phoebe, a very handsome girl, and the best of
the family, fell sick. I went over to see her. The poor girl
was very depressed, and stood but a slight chance for her life,
being under the medical treatment of three or four old women, who all recommended different treatment and administered different nostrums. Seeing that the poor girl was
dangerously ill, I took her mother aside, and begged her to
lose no time in procuring proper medical advice. Mrs. Joe
listened to me very sullenly, and said there was no danger;
that Phoebe had caught a violent cold by going hot from the
wash-tub to fetch a pail of water from the spring; that the
neighbours knew the nature of her complaint, and would soon
cure her.
The invalid turned upon me her fine dark eyes, in which the
light of fever painfully burned, and motioned me to come near
her. I sat down by her, and took her burning hand in mine.
"I am dying, Mrs. Moodie, but they won't believe me. i
wish you would talk to mother to send for the doctor."




PHOEIBE H —.                 129
"I will. Is there any thing I can do for you? —any thing I
can make for you, that you would like to take?"
She shook her head. "I can't eat. But I want to ask you
one thing, which I wish very much to know." She grasped my
hand tightly between her own. Her eyes looked darker, and
her feverish cheek paled. "What becomes of people when
they die?"
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed involuntarily; "can you be
ignorant of a future state?"
" What is a future state?"
I endeavoured, as well as I was able, to explain to her the
nature of the soul, its endless duration, and responsibility
to God for the actions done in the flesh; its natural depravity
and need of a Saviour; urging her, in the gentlest manner, to
lose no time in obtaining forgiveness of her sins, through the
atoning blood of Christ.
The poor girl looked at me with surprise and horror.
These things were all new to her.  She sat like one in a
dream; yet the truth seemed to flash upon her at once.
" How can I speak to God, who never knew Him? How
can I ask Him to forgive me 2"
"You must pray to Him."
"Pray! I don't know how to pray. I never said a prayer
in my life. Mother; can you teach me how to pray 3"
" Nonsense!" said Mrs. Joe, hurrying forward. " Why
should you trouble yourself about such ihings? Mrs. Moodie, I desire you not to put such thoughts into my daughter's
head. We don't want to know any thing about Jesus Christ
here."
"Oh, mother, don't speak so to the lady! Do, Mrs. Moodie, tell me more about God and my soul. I never knew until
now that I had a soul."
Deeply compassionating the ignorance of the poor girl, in
6*




130           RO UGHINGIG IT IN THE BUSH.
spite of the menaces of the heathen mother-for she was no
better, but rather worse, seeing that the heathen worships
in ignorance a false God, while this woman lived without
acknowledging a God at all, and therefore considered herself free from all moral restraint-I bid Phcebe good-bye,
and promised to bring my bible, and read to her the next
day.
The gratitude manifested by this sick girl was such a contrast to the rudeness and brutality of the rest of the family,
that I soon felt a powerful interest in her fate.
The mother did not actually forbid me the house, because
she saw that my visits raised the drooping spirits of her
child, whom she fiercely loved, and, to save her life, would
cheerfully have sacrificed her own. But she never failed to
make all the noise she could to disturb my reading and conversation with Phoebe. She could not be persuaded that her
daughter was really in any danger, until the doctor told her
that her case was hopeless; then the grief of the mother burst
forth, and she gave way to the most frantic and impious complainings.
The rigour of the winter, began to abate. The beams of
the sun during the day were warm and penetrating, and a soft
wind blew from the south. I watched, from day to day, the
snow disappearing from the earth, with indescribable pleasure,' and at length it wholly vanished; not even a solitary
patch lingered undpr the shade of the forest trees; but Uncle
Joe gave no sign of removing his family."
"Does he mean to stay all the summer?" thought I.
"Perhaps he never intends going at all. I will ask him, the
next time he comes to borrow whiskey."
In the afternoon he walked in to light his pipe, and, with
some anxiety, I made the inquiry.
" Well, I guess we can't be moving afore the end of May.




OUR SECOND M OVING.                 131
My missus expects to be confined the fore part of the month,
and I shan't move till she be quite smart agin."
"You are not using us well, in keeping us out of the house
so long."
" Oh, I don't care a curse about any of you. It is my
house as long as I choose to remain in it, and you may put
up with it the best way you can;" and, humming a Yankee
tune, he departed.
I had borne patiently the odious, cribbed-up place during
the winter, but now the hot weather was coming, it seemed
almost insupportable, as we were obliged to have a fire in
the close room, in order to cook our provisions. I consoled
myself as well as I could by roaming about the fields and
woods, and making acquaintance with every wild flower as it
blossomed, and in writing long letters to home friends, in
which I abused one of the finest countries in the world as the
worst that God ever called out of chaos. I can recall to
memory, at this moment, the few lines of a poem which commenced in this strain; nor am I sorry that the rest of it has
passed into oblivion:Oh! land of waters, how my spirit tires,
In the dark prison of thy boundless woods;
No rural charm poetic thought inspires,
No music murmurs in thy mighty floods;
Though vast the features that compose thy frame,
Turn where we will,- the landscape's still the same.
The swampy margin of thy inland seas,
The eternal forest girdling either shore,
Its belt of dark pines sighing in the breeze,
And rugged fields, with rude huts dotted o'er,
Show cultivation unimproved by art,
That sheds a barren chillness on the heart.
How many home-sick emigrants, during their first winter




132            O UG&IIN~G 1 IVN I1TE B' US'.
in Canada, will respond to this gloomy picture! Let them
wait a few years; the sun of hope will arise and beautify the
landscape, and they will proclaim the country one of the finest
in the world.
The middle of May at length arrived, and, by the number
of long, lean women, with handkerchiefs of all colours tied
over their heads, who passed my door, and swarmed into
Mrs. Joe's house, I rightly concluded that another young one
had been added to the tribe; and, shortly after, Uncle Joe
himself announced the important fact, by putting his jolly
red face in at the door, and telling me, that "his missus had
got a chopping boy; and he was right glad of it, for he was
tired of so many gals, and that he should move in a fortnight,
if his woman did kindly."
I had been so often disappointed that I paid very little
heed to him, but this time he kept his word.
The last day of May, they went, bag and baggage, the
poor sick Phoebe, who still lingered on, and the new-born infant; and right joyfully I sent a Scotch girl (another Bell,
whom I had hired in lieu of her I had lost), and Monaghan,
to clean out the Augean stable. In a few minutes John returned, panting with indignation.
"The house," he said, "was more filthy than a pig-sty."
But that was not the worst of it, Uncle Joe, before he went,
had undermined the brick chimney, and let all the water into
the house. " Oh, but if he comes here agin," he continued,
grinding his teeth and doubling his fist, " I'll thrash him for
it. And thin, ma'arm, he has girdled round all the best graft
apple-trees, the murtherin' owld villain, as if it could spile his
digestion our ating them."
"It would require a strong stomach to digest apple-trees,
John; but never mind, it can't be helped, and we may be
very thankful that these people are gone at last."




OUR SECOND lMOVINV.              133
John and Bell scrubbed at the house all day, and in the
evening they carried over the furniture, and I went to inspect
our new dwelling.
It looked beautifully clean and neat.  Bell had whitewashed all the black, smoky walls and boarded ceilings,
and scrubbed the dirty window-frames, and polished the flyspotted panes of glass, until they actually admitted a glimpse
of the clear air and the blue sky. Snow-white fringed curtains, and a bed, with furniture to correspond, a carpeted floor,
and a large pot of green boughs on the hearthstone, gave an
air of comfort and cleanliness to a room which, only a few
hours before, had been a loathsome den of filth and impurity.
This change would have been very gratifying, had not a
strong, disagreeable odour almost deprived me of my breath
as L entered the room. It was unlike any thing I had ever
smelt before, and turned me so sick and faint that I had to
cling to the door-post for support.
" Where does this dreadful smell come from?"
" The guidness knows, ma'am; John and I have searched
the house from the loft to the cellar, but we canna find out
the cause of thae stink."
" It must be in the room, Bell; and it is impossible to
remain here, or live in this house, until it is removed."
Glancing my eyes all round the place, I spied what seemed
to me a little cupboard, over the mantel-shelf, and I told John
to see if I was right. The lad mounted upon a chair, and
pulled open a small door, but almost fell to the ground with
the dreadful stench which seemed to rush from the closet.
" What is it, John?" I cried from the open door.
"A skunk! ma'arm, a skunk! Shure, I thought the divil
had scorched his tail, and left the grizzled hair behind him.
What a strong perfume it has!" he continued, holding up the
beautiful but odious little creature by the tail.




134          ROUGHEING IT IN THNE BUSH.
"By dad! I know all about it now. I saw Ned Layton,
only two days ago, crossing the field with Uncle Jue, with his
gun on his shoulder, and this wee bit baste in his hand. They
were both laughing like sixty.' Well, if this does not stink
the Scotchman out of the house,' said Joe,'I'll be contint to
be tarred and feathered;' and thin they both laughed until
they stopped to draw breath."
I could hardly help laughing myself; but I begged
Monaghan to convey the horrid creature away, and putting
some salt and sulphur into a tin plate, and setting fire to it, I
placed it on the floor in the middle of the room, and closed
all the doors for an hour, which greatly assisted in purifying
the house from the skunkification. Bell then washed out the
closet with strong ley, and in a short time no vestige remained of the malicious trick that Uncle Joe had played off
upon us.
The next day, we took possession of our new mansion, and
no one was better pleased with the change than little Katie.
She was now fifteen months old, and could just begin to prattle, but she dared not venture to step alone, although she
would stand by a chair all day, and even climb upon it. She
crept from room to room, feeling and admiring every thing,
and talking to it in her baby language. So fond was the dear
child of flowers, that her father used to hold her up to the
apple-trees, then rich in their full spring beauty, that she
might kiss the blossoms. She would pat them with her soft
white hands, murmuring like a bee among the branches. To
keep her quiet whilst I was busy, I had only to give her a.
bunch of wild flowers. She would sit as still as a lamb, looking first at one and then at another, pressing them to her little
breast in a sort of ecstacy, as if she comprehended the worth
of this most beautiful of God's gifts to man.
She was a sweet, lovely flower herself, and her charming




OUR SECOND MOVING.                135
infant graces reconciled me, more than aught else, to a weary
lot. Was she not purely British? Did not her soft blue
eyes, and sunny curls, and bright rosy cheeks for ever remind
me of her Saxon origin, and bring before me dear forms and
faces I could never hope to behold again?
The first night we slept in the new house, a demon of unrest had taken possession of it in the shape of a countless
swarm of mice. They scampered over our pillows, and
jumped upon our faces, squeaking and cutting a thousand
capers over the floor. I never could realize the true value of
Whittington's invaluable cat until that night. At first we
laughed until our sides ached, but in reality it was no laughing matter. Moodie remembered that we had left a mousetrap in the old house; he went and brought it over, baited it,
and set it on the table near the bed. During the night no
less than fourteen of the provoking vermin were captured;
and for several succeeding nights the trap did equal execution.
How Uncle Joe's family could have allowed such a nuisance
to exist astonished me; to sleep with these creatures continually running over us was impossible; and they were not
the only evils in the shape of vermin we had to contend with.
The old logs which composed the walls of the house were full
of bugs and large black ants; and the place, owing to the
number of dogs that always had slept under the beds with
the children, was infested with fleas. It required the utmost
care to rid the place of these noisome and disgusting tenants.
Arriving in the country in the autumn, we had never experienced any inconvenience from the mosquitoes, but after
the first moist, warm spring days, particularly after the
showers, these tormenting insects annoyed us greatly. The
farm, lying in a valley cut up with little streams in every
direction, made us more liable to their inflictions. The
hands, arms, and face of the poor babe were covered every




136          ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH.
morning with red inflamed bumps, which often threw out
blisters.
The banks of the little streams abounded with wild strawberries, which, although small, were of a delicious flavour.
Thither Bell and I, and the baby, daily repaired to gather the
bright red berries of Nature's own providing. Katie, young
as she was, was very expert at helping herself, and we used to
seat her in the middle of a fine bed, whilst we gathered farther on. Hearing her talking very lovingly to something in
the grass, which she tried to clutch between her white hands,
calling it "Pitty, pitty;" I ran to the spot, and found that it
was a large garter-snake that she was so affectionately courting to her embrace. Not then aware that this formidablelooking reptile was perfectly harmless, I snatched the child up
in my arms, and ran with her home; never stopping until I
gained the house, and saw her safely seated in her cradle.
It had been a very late, cold spring, but the trees had fully
expanded into leaf, and the forest world was glorious in its
beauty. Every patch of cleared land presented a vivid green
to the eye; the brook brawled in the gay sunshine, and the
warm air was filled with soft murmurs. Gorgeous butterflies
floated about like winged flowers, and feelings allied to poetry
and gladness once more pervaded my heart. In the evening
we wandered through the woodland paths, beneath the glowing Canadian sunset, and gathered rare specimens of strange
plants and flowers. Every object that met my eyes was new
to me, and produced that peculiar excitement which has its
origin in a thirst for knowledge, and a love of variety.
We had commenced gardening, too, and my vegetables
did great credit to my skill and care; and, when once the
warm weather sets in, the rapid advance of vegetation in Canada is astonishing. Not understanding much about farming,
especially in a climate like Canada, Moodie was advised by a




OUiR ISLEC0ID) AfOV mDim.        137
neighbouring settler to farm his farm upon shares. This advice seemed very reasonable; and had it been given disinterestedly, and had the persons recommended (a man and his
wife) been worthy or honest people, we might have done very
well. But the farmer had found out their encroaching ways,
was anxious to get rid of them himself, and saw no better way
of doing so than by palming them upon us.
From our engagement with these people commenced that
long series of losses ani troubles to which their conduct
formed the prelude. They were to live in the little shanty
that we had just left, and work the farm. Moodie was to find
them the land, the use of his implements and cattle, and all
the seed for the crops; and to share with them the returns.
Besides this, they unfortunately were allowed to keep their
own cows, pigs, and poultry. The produce of the orchard,
with which they had nothing to do, was reserved for our own
use. For the first few weeks, they were civil and obliging
enough; and had the man been left to himself, I believe we
should have done pretty well; but the wife was a coarsemifided, bold woman, who instigated him to every mischief.
They took advantage of us in every way they could, and were
constantly committing petty depredations.
From our own experience of this mode of farming, I would
strenuously advise all new settlers never to embrace any such
offer, without they are well acquainted with the parties, and
can thoroughly rely upon their honesty; or else, like Mrs.
O —, they may impudently tell you that they can cheat
you as they please, and defy you to help yourself. All the
money we spent on the farm was entirely for these people's
benefit, for by their joint contrivances very little of the crops
fell to our share; and when any division was made, it was
always when Moodie was absent from home; and there was
no person present to see fair play. They sold what apples




138           RO UGIHING IT IN THIL BUSH.
and potatoes they pleased, and fed their hogs ad libitum.
But even their roguery was more tolerable than the irksome
restraint which their near vicinity, and consequently having
to come in contact with them, imposed. We had no longer
any privacy, our servants were cross-questioned, and our
family affairs canvassed by these gossiping people, who spread
about a thousand falsehoods regarding us. I was so much
disgusted with this shareship, that I would gladly have given
them all the proceeds of the farm to get rid of them, but the
bargain was for twelve months, and bad as it was. we could
not break our engagement.
One little trick of this woman's will serve to illustrate her
general conduct. A neighbouring farmer's wife had presented
me with some very pretty hens, who followed to the call of
old Betty Fye's handsome game-cock. I was always fond
of fowls, and the innocent Katie delighted in her chicks, and
would call them round her to the sill of the door to feed from
her hand. Mrs. O-     had the same number as I had, and I
often admired them when marshalled forth by her splendid
black rooster. One morning I saw her eldest son chop off the
head of the fine bird; and I asked his mother why she had
allowed him to kill the beautiful creature. She laughed, and
merely replied that she wanted it for the pot. The next day
my sultan walked over to the widowed hens, and took all his
seraglio with him. From that hour I never gathered a single
egg; the hens deposited all their eggs in Mrs. O —'s henhouse. She used to boast of this as an excellent joke among
her neighbours.
On the 9th of June my dear little Agnes was born. A
few days after this joyful event, I heard a great bustle in the
room adjoining to mine, and old Dolly Rowe, my Cornish
nurse, informed me that it was occasioned by the people who
came to attend the funeral of Phcebe H —-. She only sur



OUR SECOND MO VING.              139
vived the removal of the family a week; and at her own
request had been brought all the way from the -   lake
plains to be interred in the burying-ground on the hill which
overlooked the stream.
As I lay upon my pillow 1 could distinctly see the spot,
and mark the long funeral procession, as it wound along the
banks of the brook. It was a solemn and imposing spectacle,
that humble funeral. When the wagons reached the rude
enclosure, the coffin was carefully lifted to the ground, the door
in the lid opened, and old and young approached, one after
another, to take a last look at the dead, before consigning her
to the oblivion of the grave.
Poor Phoebe! Gentle child, of coarse, unfeeling parents,
few shed more sincerely a tear for thy early fate than the
stranger whom they hated and despised. Often have I stood
beside that humble mound, when the song of the lark was
above me, and the bee murmuring at my feet, and thought
that it was well for thee that God opened the eyes of thy soul,
and called thee out of the darkness of ignorance and sin, to
glory in His marvellous light. Sixteen years have passed away
since I heard any thing of the family, or what had become of
them, when I was told by a neighbour of theirs, whom I accidentally met last winter, that the old woman, who now nearly
numbers a hundred years, is still living, and inhabits a corner
of her son's barn, as she still quarrels too much with his wife
to reside with Joe; that the girls are all married and gone;
and that Joe himself, although he does not know a letter, has
commenced travelling preacher. After this, who can doubt the
existence of miracles in the nineteenth century?




140          ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH.
CHAPTER X.
BRIAN, THE STILL-HUNTER.
IT was early day. I was alone in the old shanty, preparing
breakfast, and now and then stirring the cradle with my
foot, when a tall, thin, middle-aged man walked into the house,
followed by two large, strong dogs.
Placing the rifle he had carried on his shoulder, il a corner
of the room, he advanced to the hearth, and without speaking,
or seemingly looking at me, lighted his pipe, and commenced
smoking. The dogs, after growling and snapping at the cat,
who had not given the strangers a very courteous reception,
sat down on the hearth-stone on either side of their taciturn
master, eyeing him from time to time, as if long habit had
made them understand all his motions. There was a great
contrast between the dogs.  The one was a brindled bulldog
of the largest size, a most formidable and powerful brute; the
othb-; a staghound, tawny, deep-chested, and strong-limbed.
I regarded the man and his hairy companions with silent
curiosity.
He was between forty and fifty years of age; his head,
nearly bald, was studded at the sides with strong, coarse,
black curling hair. His features were high, his complexion
brightly dark, and his eyes, in size, shape, and colour, greatly
resembled the eyes of a hawk. The face itself was sorrowful
and taciturn; and his thin, compressed lips looked as if they
were not much accustomed to smile, or often to unclose to




BSIAN, THE STILL-HUNTER.            141
hold social communion with any one. He stood at the side
of the huge hearth, silently smoking, his eyes bent on the fire,
and now and then he patted the heads of his dogs, reproving
their exuberant expressions of attachment, with-" Down,
Musie; down, Chance!"
"A cold, clear morning," said I, in order to attract his
attention and draw him into conversation.
A nod, without raising his head, or withdrawing his eyes
from the fire, was his only answer; and, turning from my
unsociable guest, I took up the baby, who just then awoke, sat
down on a low stool by the table, and began feeding her.
During this operation, I once or twice caught the stranger's
hawk-eye fixed upon me and the child, but word spoke he
none; and presently, after whistling to his dogs, he resumed
his gun, and strode out.
When Moodie and Monaghan came in to breakfast, I told
them what a strange visitor I had had; and M3oodie laughed
at my vain attempt to induce him to talk.
" He is a strange being," I said; "I must find out who and
what he is."
In the afternoon an old soldier, called Layton, who had
served during the American war, and got a grant of land
about a mile in the rear of our location, came in to trade for
a cow. Now, this Layton was a perfect ruffian; a man';-hom
no one liked, and whom all feared. He was a deep drinker,
a great swearer, in short, a perfect reprobate; who never cultivated his land, but went jobbing about from farm to farm,
trading horses and cattle, and cheating in a pettifogging way.
Uncle Joe had employed him to sell Moodie a young heifer,
and he had brought her over for him to look at. When he came
in to be paid, I described the stranger of the morning; and as
I knew that he was familiar with every one in the neighbourhood, I asked if he knew him.




142           ROUIGHIVG IT IN THE BUSH.
"No one should know him better than myself," he said;
"'tis old Brian B, the still-hunter, and a near neighbour
of your'n. A sour, morose, queer chap he is, and as mad as
a March hare! He's from Lancashire, in England, and came
to this country some twenty years ago, with his wife, who
was a pretty young lass in those days, and slim enough then,
though she's so awful fleshy now. He had lots of money,
too, and he bought four hundred acres of land, just at the cor.
ner of the concession line, where it meets the main road.
And excellent land it is; and a better farmer, while he stuck
to his business, never went into the bush, for it was all bush
here then. He was a dashing, handsome fellow, too, and did
not hoard the money either; he loved his pipe and his pot
too well; and at last he left off farming, and gave himself to
them altogether. Many a jolly booze he and I have had, I
can tell you. Brian was an awful passionate man, and, when
the liquor was in, and the wit was out, as savage and as quarrelsome as a bear. At such times there was no one but Ned
Layton dared go near him. We once had a pitched battle,
in which I was conqueror; and ever arter he yielded a sort
of sulky obedience to all I said to him. Arter being on the
spree for a week or two, he would take fits of remorse, and
return home to his wife; would fall down at her knees,
and ask her forgiveness, and cry like a child. At other
times he would hide himself up in the woods, and steal
home at night, and get what he wanted out of the pantry,
without speaking a word to any one. He went on with
these pranks for some years, till he took a fit of the blue
devils.
"'Come away, Ned, to the --    lake, with me,' said
he;'I am weary of my life, and I want a change.'
"'Shall we take the fishing-tackle' says I.'The black
bass are in prime season, and F-   will lend us the old




BRIAN, TfE STILLTl-HMTR.             143
canoe. He's got some capital rum up from Kingston. We'll
fish all day, and have a spree at night.'
"' It's not to fish I'm going,' says he.
"'To shoot, then? I've bought Rockwood's new rifle.'
"'It's neither to fish nor to shoot, Ned: it's a new game
I'm going to try; so come along.'
" Well, to the -    lake we went. The day was very
hot, and our path lay through the woods, and over those
scorching plains, for eight long miles. I thought I should have
dropped by the way; but during our long walk my companion never opened his lips. He strode on before me, at a
half run, never once turning his head.
"' The man must be the devil!' says I,' and accustomed to
a warmer place, or he must feel this. Hollo, Brian! Stop
there! Do you mean to kill me?'
"'Take it easy,' says he;'you'll see another day arter
this-I've business on hand, and cannot wait.'
" Well, on we went, at the same awful rate, and it was
mid-day when we got to the little tavern on the lake shore,
kept by one F  —, who had a boat for the convenience of
strangers who came to visit the place. Here we got our dinner, and a glass of rum to wash it down. But Brian was
moody, and to all my jokes he only returned a sort of
grunt; and while I was talking with F, he steps out, and
a few minutes arter we saw him crossing the lake in the old
canoe.
"' What's the matter with Brian?' says F —;' all does
not seem right with him, Ned. You had better take the boat,
and look arter him.'
"' Pooh!' says I;'he's often so, and grows so glum nowa-days that I will cut his acquaintance altogether if he does
not improve.'
"' He drinks awful hard,' says F —-;'may be he's got




144         RkOUrrGiTZIM   IT IN THE BSH
a fit of the delirium-tremulous. There is no telling what he
may be up to at this minute.'
"My mind misgave me too, so I e'en takes the oars, and
pushes out, right upon Brian's track; and, by the Lord Harry!
if I did not find him, upon my landing upon the opposite
shore, lying wallowing in his blood, with his throat cut.'Is
that you, Brian?' says I, giving him a kick with my foot, to
see if he was alive or dead.' What upon earth tempted you
to play me and F —- such a dirty, mean trick, as to go and
stick yourself like a pig, bringing such a discredit upon the
house?-and you so far from home and those who should
nurse you.'
"I was so mad with him, that (saving your presence,
ma'am) I swore awfully, and called him names that would be
ondacent to repeat here; but he only answered with groans
and a horrid gurgling in his throat.'It's choking you are,'
said I;' but you sha'n't have your own way, and die so easily
either, if I can punish you by keeping you alive.' So I just
turned him upon his stomach, with his head down the steep
bank; but he still kept choking and growing black in the
face."
Layton then detailed some particulars of his surgical practice which it is not necessary to repeat. He continued,
"I bound up his throat with my handkerchief, and took
him neck and heels, and threw him into the bottom of the
boat. Presently he came to himself a little, and sat up in the
boat; and-would you believe it?-made several attempts
to throw himself into the water.'This will not do,' says I;'you've done mischief enough already by cutting your weasand! If you dare to try that again, I will kill you with the oar.'
I held it up to threaten him; he was scared, and lay down as
quiet as a lamb. I put my foot upon his breast.'Lie still,
now! or you'll catch it.' He looked piteously at me; he




BRIAn, THE STILL-HUNTER.            145
could not speak, but his eyes seemed to say,' Have pity
upon me, Ned; don't kill me.'
"Yes, ma'am; this man, who had just cut his throat, and
twice arter that tried to drown himself, was afraid that I
should knock him on the head and kill him. Ha! ha! I
never shall forget the work that F-  and I had with him
arter I got him up to the house.'
"The doctor came, and sewed up his throat; and his wife
-poor crittur!-came to nurse him. Bad as he was, she
was mortal fond of him! He lay there, sick and unable to
leave his bed, for three months, and did nothing but pray to
God to forgive him, for he thought the devil would surely
have him for cutting his own throat; and when he got about
again, which is now twelve years ago, he left off drinking entirely, and wanders about the woods with his dogs, hunting.
He seldom speaks to any one, and his wife's brother carries
on the farm for the family. He is so shy of strangers that'tis a wonder he came in here. The old wives are afraid of
him; but you need not heed him-his troubles are to himself, he harms no one."
Layton departed, and left me brooding over the sad tale
which he had told in such an absurd and jesting manner. It
was evident from the account he had given of Brian's attempt
at suicide, that the hapless hunter was not wholly answerable
for his conduct-that he was a harmless maniac.
The next morning, at the very same hour, Brian again
made his appearance; but instead of the rifle across his shoulder, a large stone jar occupied the place, suspended by a stout
leather thong. Without saying a word, but with a truly benevolent smile, that flitted slowly over his stern features, and
lighted them up, like a sunbeam breaking from beneath a
stormy cloud, he advanced to the table, and unslinging the
jar, set it down before me, and in a low and gruff, but by no
7




146          RO UGHIVG ir IT THE B USH.
means an unfriendly voice, said, "M'ilk, for the child," and
vanished.
" How good it was of him! H-ow kind!" I exclaimed, as
I poured the precious gift of four quarts of pure new milk out
into a deep pan. I had not asked him-had never said that
the poor weanling wanted milk. It was the courtesy of a
gentleman-of a man of benevolence and refinement.
For weeks did my strange, silent friend steal in, take up
the empty jar, and supply its place with another replenished
with milk. The baby knew his step, and would hold out her
hands to him and cry " Milk!" and Brian would stoop down
and kiss her, and his two great dogs lick her face.
"Have you any children, Mr. B —  "
"Yes, five; but none like this."
"My little girl is greatly indebted to you for your kind
ness."
" She's welcome, or she would not get it. You are strangers; but I like you all. You look kind, and I would like to
know more about you."
Moodie shook hands with the old hunter, and assured him
that we should always be glad to see him. After this invitation, Brian became a frequent guest. He would sit and listen
with delight to Moodie while he described to him elephanthunting at the Cape; grasping his rifle in a determined manner, and whistling an encouraging air to his dogs. I asked
him one evening what made him so fond of hunting.
"'Tis the excitement," he said; "it drowns thought, and I
love to be alone. I am sorry for the creatures, too, for they
are free and happy; yet I am led by an instinct I cannot restrain to kill them.  Sometimes the sight of their dying
agonies recalls painful feelings; and then I lay aside the gun,
and do not hunt for days. But'tis fine to be alone with God
in the great woods-to watch the sunbeams stealing through




BRIA,:A  THE STILL-ItUxNT]R.       147
the thick branches, the blue sky breaking in upon you in
patches, and to know that all is bright and shiny above you,
in spite of the gloom that surrounds you."
After a long pause, he continued, with much solemn feeling
in his look and tone,
" I lived a life of folly for years, for I was respectably born
and educated, and had seen something of the world, perhaps
more than was good, before I left home for the woods; and
from the teaching I had received from kind relatives and
parents I should have known how to have conducted myself
better. But, madam, if we associate long with the depraved
and ignorant, we learn to become even worse than they are.
I felt deeply my degradation-felt that I had become the
slave to low vice; and in order to emancipate myself from
the hateful tyranny of evil passions, I did a very rash and
foolish thing. I need not mention the manner in which I
transgressed God's holy laws; all the neighbours know it,
and must have told you long ago. I could have borne reproof, but they turned my sorrow into indecent jests, and,
unable to bear their coarse ridicule, I made companions of
my dogs and gun, and went forth into the wilderness. Hunting became a habit. I could no longer live without it, and it
supplies the stimulant which I lost when I renounced the
cursed whiskey bottle.
"I remember the first hunting excursion I took alone in
the forest. How sad and gloomy I felt! I thought that there
was no creature in the world so miserable as myself. I was
tired and hungry, and I sat down upon a fallen tree to rest.
All was still as death around me, and I was fast sinking to
sleep, when my attention was aroused by a long, wild cry. My
dog, for I had not Chance then, and he's no hunter, pricked up
his ears, but instead of answering with a bark of defiance, he
crouched down, trembling, at my feet.'What does this




148          RO UGHIArG IT IV' TIE B USH.
mean' I cried, and I cocked my rifle and sprang upon the
log. The sound came nearer upon the wind. It was like the
deep baying of a pack of hounds in full cry. Presently a
noble deer rushed past me, and fast upon his trail-I see
them now, like so many black devils-swept by a pack of ten
or fifteen large, fierce wolves, with fiery eyes and bristling
hair, and paws that seemed hardly to touch the ground in
their eager haste. I thought not of danger, for, with their
prey in view, I was safe; but I felt every nerve within me
tremble for the fate of the poor deer. The wolves gained
upon him at every bound. A close thicket intercepted his
path, and, rendered desperate, he turned at bay. His nostrils
were dilated, and his eyes seemed to send forth long streams
of light. It was wonderful to witness the courage of the
beast. How bravely he repelled the attacks of his deadly
enemies, how gallantly he tossed them to the right and left,
and spurned them from beneath his hoofs; yet all his struggles were useless, and he was quickly overcome and torn to
pieces by his ravenous foes. At that moment he seemed
more unfortunate even than myself, for I could not see in
what manner he had deserved his fate. All his speed and
energy, his courage and fortitude, had been exerted in vain.
I had tried to destroy myself; but he, with every effort
vigorously made for self-preservation, was doomed to meet
the fate he dreaded! Is God just to his creatures?"
With this sentence on his lips, he started abruptly from his
seat and left the house.
One day he found me painting some wild flowers, and was
greatly interested in watching the progress I made in the
group. Late in the afternoon of the following day he brought
me a large bunch of splendid spring flowers.
"Draw these," said he; "I have been all the way to the
---  lake plains to find them for you."




BRIANr, THE STILL-IEUVTER.          149
Little Katie, grasping them one by one, with infantile joy,
kissed every lovely blossom.
"These are God's pictures," said the hunter, "and the
child, who is all nature, understands them in a minute. Is it
not strange that these beautiful things are hid away in the
wilderness, where no eyes but the birds of the air, and the
wild beasts of the wood, and the insects that live upon them,
ever see them? Does God provide, for the pleasure of such
creatures, these flowers? Is His benevolence gratified by the
admiration of animals whom we have been taught to consider
as having neither thought nor reflection? When I am alone
in the forest, these thoughts puzzle me."
Knowing that to argue with Brian was only to call into
action the slumbering fires of his fatal malady, I turned the
conversation by asking him why he called his favourite dog
Chance?
" I found him," he said, " forty miles back in the bush. He
was a mere skeleton. At first, I took him for a wolf, but the
shape of his head undeceived me. I opened my wallet, and
called him to me. He came slowly, stopping and wagging
his tail at every step, and looking me wistfully in the face.
I offered him a bit of dried venison, and he soon became
friendly, and followed me home, and has never left me since.
I called him Chance, after the manner I happened with him;
and I would not part with him for twenty dollars."
Alas, for poor Chance! he had, unknown to his master,
contracted a private liking for fresh mutton, and one night he
killed no less than eight sheep that belonged to Mr. D —,
on the front road; the culprit, who had been long suspected,
was caught in the very act, and this mischance cost him his
life. Brian was sad and gloomy for many weeks after his
favourite's death.




150          R OUGHIYG IT IN TiE2  B USH.
"I would have restored the sheep fourfold," he said, " if he
would but have spared the life of my dog."
My recollections of Brian seem more particularly to concentrate in the adventures of one night, when I happened to
be left alone, for the first time since my arrival in Canada.
I cannot now imagine how I could have been such a fool as to
give way for four-and-twenty hours to such childish fears; but
so it was, and I will not disguise my weakness from my indulgent reader. M/oodie had bought a very fine cow of a black
man, named Mollineux, for which he was to give twentyseven dollars. The man lived twelve miles back in the woods;
and one fine, frosty spring day-(don't smile at the term
frosty, thus connected with the genial season of the year; the
term is perfectly correct when applied to the Canadian spring,
which, until the middle of May, is the most dismal season of
the year)-he and John Monaghan took a rope, and the dog,
and sallied forth to fetch the cow home. Moodie said that
they should be back by six o'clock in the evening, and
charged me to have something cooked for supper when they
returned, as he doubted not their long walk in the sharp air
would give them a good appetite. This was during the time
that I was without a servant, and living in old Mrs. -'s
shanty.
The day was so bright and clear, and Katie was so full of
frolic and play, rolling upon the floor, or toddling from chair
to chair, that the day passed on without my feeling remarkably
lonely. At length the evening drew nigh, and I began to
expect my husband's return, and to think of the supper that I
was to prepare for his reception. The red heifer that we had
bought of Layton, came lowing to the door to be milked; but
I did not know how to milk in those days, and, besides this,
I was terribly afraid of cattle. Yet, as I knew that milk
would be required for the tea, I ran across the meadow to




BRIAN, THE STzILL-HUNTER.           151
Mrs. Joe, and begged that one of her girls would be so kind
as to milk for me. MSy request was greeted with a rude burst
of laughter from the whole set.
" If you can't milk," said Mrs. Joe, " it's high time you
should learn. My girls are above being helps."
"I would not ask you but as a great favour; I am afraid
of cows."
"Afraid of co;s!  Lord bless the woman! A farmer's
wife, and afraid of cows!"
Here followed another laugh at my expense; and, indignant at the refusal of my first and last request, when they had
all borrowed so much from me, I shut the inhospitable door,
and returned home.
After many ineffectual attempts, I succeeded at last, and
bore my half-pail of milk in triumph to the house. Yes! I
felt prouder of that milk than many an author of the best
thing he ever wrote, whether in verse or prose; and it was
doubly sweet when I considered that I had procured it without
being under any obligation to my ill-natured neighbours. I
had learned a useful lesson of independence, to which, in after
years, I had often again to refer.
I fed little Katie and put her to bed, made the hot cakes
for tea, boiled the potatoes, and laid the ham, cut in nice
slices, in the pan, ready'to cook the moment I saw the men
enter the meadow, and arranged the little room with scrupulous care and neatness. A glorious fire was blazing on the
hearth, and every thing was ready for their supper; and I
Le~gan to look out anxiously for their arrival.
The night had closed in cold and foggy, and I could no
longer distinguish any object at more than a few yards from
the door. Bringing in as much wood as I thought would last
me for several hours, I closed the door; and for the first time
in my life I found myself at night in a house entirely alone.




152          RO UGHING IT IT THIE BUSH.
Then I began to ask myself a thousand torturing questions as
to the reason of their unusual absence. Had they lost their
way in the woods? Could they have fallen in with wolves
(one of my early bugbears)? Could any fatal accident have
befallen them   I started up, opened the door, held my
breath, and listened. The little brook lifted up its voice in
loud, hoarse wailing, or mocked, in its babbling to the stones,
the sound of human voices. As it became later, my fears increased in proportionl. Igrew too superstitious and nervous
to keep the door open. I not only closed it, but dragged a
heavy box in front, for bolt there was none. Several illlooking men had, during the day, asked their way to Toronto.
I felt alarmed lest such rude wayfarers should come to-night
and demand a lodging, and find me alone and unprotected.
Once I thought of running across to Mrs. Joe, and asking her
to let one of the girls stay with me until Moodie returned;
but the way in which I had been repulsed in the evening prevented me from making a second appeal to their charity.
Hour after hour wore away, and the crowing of the cocks
proclaimed midnight, and yet they came not. I had burned
out all my wood, and I dared not open the door to fetch in
more. The candle was expiring in the socket, and I had not
courage to go up into the loft and procure another before it
went finally out. Cold, heart-weary, and faint, I sat and cried.
Every now and then the furious barking of the dogs at the
neighbouring farms, and the loud cackling of the geese upon
our own, made me hope that they were coming; and then I
listened till the beating of my own heart excluded all other
sounds.  Oh, that unwearied brook! how it sobbed and
moaned like a fretful child;-what unreal terrors and fanciful
illusions my too active mind conjured up, whilst listening to
its mysterious tones!
Just as the moon rose, the howling of a pack of wolves, from




BRIAN, TSE STILL-HUi TEYR.         153
the great swamp in our rear, filled the whole air. Their yells
were answered by the barking of all the dogs in the vicinity,
and the geese, unwilling to be behindhand in the general confusion, set up the most discordant screams. I had often heard,
and even been amused, during the winter, particularly on thaw
nights, with hearing the howls of these formidable wild beasts;
but I had never before heard them alone, and when one dear
to me was abroad amid their haunts. They were directly in
the track that Moodie and Monaghan must have taken; and I
now made no doubt that they had been attacked and killed on
their return through the woods with the cow, and I wept and
sobbed until the cold gray dawn peered in upon me through
the small dim windows. I have passed many a long cheerless
night, when my dear husband was away from me during the
rebellion, and I was left in my forest home with five litttl
children, and only an old Irish woman to draw and cut wood
for my fire, and attend to the wants of the family, but that
was the saddest and longest night I ever remember.
Just as the day broke, my friends, the wolves, set up a
parting benediction, so loud, and wild, and near to the house,
that I was afraid lest they should break through the frail windows, or come down the low, wide chimney, and rob me of
my child. But their detestable howls died away in the distance, and the bright sun rose up and dispersed the wild
horrors of the night, and I looked once more timidly around
me. The sight of the table spread, and the uneaten supper,
renewed my grief, for I could not divest myself of the idea
that Moodie was dead. I opened the door, and stepped forth
into the pure air of the early day.  A solemn and beautiful
repose still hung like a veil over the face of Nature. The
mists of night still rested upon the majestic woods, and not a
sound but the flowing of the waters went up in the vast stillness. The earth had not yet raised her matin hymn to the
7.




154          I OUGHIIYG I Ii V THE' BUSH.
throne of the Creator.  Sad at heart, and weary and worn in
spirit, I went down to the spring and washed my face and
head, and drank a deep draught of its icy waters. On returning to the house I met, near the door, old Brian the hunter,
with a large fox dangling across his shoulder, and the dogs
following at his heels.
" Good God! Mrs. Moodie, what is the matter? You are
early abroad this morning, and look dreadful ill. Is any thing
wrong at home? Is the baby or your husband sick 2"
" Oh!" I cried, bursting into tears, " I fear he is killed by
the wolves."
The man stared at me, as if he doubted the evidence of his
senses, and well he might; but this one idea had taken such
strong possession of my mind that I could admit no other. I
then told him, as well as I could find words, the cause of my
alarm, to which he listened very kindly and patiently.
" Set your heart at rest; your husband is safe. It is a
long journey on foot to Mollineux, to one unacquainted with
a blazed path in a bush road. They have staid all night
at the black man's shanty, and you will see them back at
noon."
I shook my head and continued to weep.
" Well, now, in order to satisfy you, I will saddle my
mare, and ride over to the nigger's, and bring you word as
fast as I can."
I thanked him sincerely for his kindness, and returned, in
somewhat better spirits, to the house. At ten o'clock my
good messenger returned with the glad tidings that all was
well.
The day before, when half the journey had been accomplished, John Monaghan let go the rope by which he led the
cow, and she had broken away through to the woods, and returned to her old master; and when they again reached his




BRIAiN, THE STILL-H UN~TER.         155
place, night had set in, and they were obliged to wait until the
return of day. Moodie laughed heartily at all my fears; but
indeed I found them no joke.
Brian's eldest son, a lad of fourteen, was not exactly an
idiot, but what, in the old country, is very expressively termed
by the poor people a' natural." HIe could feed and assist
himself, had been taught imperfectly to read and write, and
could go to and from the town on errands, and carry a message from one farm-house to another; but he was a strange,
wayward creature, and evidently inherited, in no small degree, his father's malady.
During the summer months he lived entirely in the woods,
near his father's dwelling, only returning to obtain food, which
was generally left for him in an outhouse. In the winter, driven
home by the severity of the weather, he would sit for days
together moping in the chimney-corner, without taking the
least notice of what was passing around him. Brian never
mentioned this boy-who had a strong, active figure; a handsome, but very inexpressive face-without a deep sigh; and
I feel certain that half his own dejection was occasioned by
the mental aberration of his child.
One day he sent the lad with a note to our house, to know
if Moodie would purchase the half of an ox that he was going
to kill. There happened to stand in the corner of the room
an open wood box, into which several bushels of fine apples
had been thrown; and, while Moodie was writing an answer
to the note, the eyes of the idiot were fastened, as if by some
magnetic influence, upon the apples. Knowing that Brian had
a very fine orchard, I did not offer the boy any of the fruit.
When the note was finished, I handed it to him. The lad
grasped it mechanically, without removing his fixed gaze from
the apples.
" Give that to your father, Tom."




156              UGiIhY  IT IN THE BUSH.
The boy answered not-his ears, his eyes, his whole soul,
were concentrated in the apples. Ten minutes elapsed, bat he
stood motionless, like a pointer at a dead set.
" My good boy, you can go."
He did not stir.
"Is there any thing you want 2"
J I want," said the lad, without moving his eyes from the
objects of his intense desire, and speaking in a slow, pointed
manner, which ought to have been heard to be fully appreciated, " I want ap-ples!"
"Oh, if that's all, take what you like."
The permission once obtained, the boy flung himself upon
the box with the rapacity of a hawk upon its prey, after
being long poised in the air, to fix its certain aim; thrusting
his hands to the right and left, in order to secure the finest
specimens of the coveted fruit, scarcely allowing himself time
to breathe until he had filled his old straw hat, and all his
pockets, with apples. To help laughing was impossible; while
this new Tom o' Bedlam darted from the house, and scampered across the field for dear life, as if afraid that we should
pursue him, to rob him of his prize.
It was during this winter that our friend Brian was left
a fortune of three hundred pounds per annum; but it was
necessary for him to return to his native country, in order
to take possession of the property. This he positively refused
to do; and when we remonstrated with him on the apparent
imbecility of this resolution, he declared that he would not
risk his life, in crossing the Atlantic twice, for twenrt times
that sum. What strange inconsistency was this, in a being
who had three times attempted to take away that which
he dreaded so much to lose accidentally!
I was much amused with an account which he gave me, in
his quaint way, of an excursion he went upon with a botanist,




BR1AN, TEE STILL-HUNTER.            157
to collect specimens of the plants and flowers of Upper
Canada.
"It was a fine spring day. some ten years ago, and I was
yoking my oxen to drag in some oats I had just sown, when a
little, fat, punchy man, with a broad, red, good-natured face,
and carrying a small black leathern wallet across his shoulder,
called to me over the fence, and asked me if my name was
Brian B —? I said,' Yes; what of that?'
"' Only you are the man I want to see. They tell me that
you are better acquainted with the woods than any person in
these parts; and I will pay you any thing in reason if you will
be my guide for a few days.'
"'Where do you want to go V' said I.
"'No where in particular,' says he.'I want to go here
and there, in all directions, to collect plants and flowers.'
" That is still-hunting with a vengeance, thought I.' Today I must drag in my oats. If to-morrow will suit we will
be off.'
"' And your charge?' said he.'I like to be certain of
that.'
"' A dollar a-day. My time and labour upon my farm, at
this busy season, is worth more than that.'
"'True,' said he.'Well, I'll give you what you ask.
At what time will you be ready to start'
"' By daybreak, if you wish it.'
"Away he went; and by daylight next morning he was at
my door, mounted upon a stout French pony.' What are
you going to do with that beast' said I.'Horses are of no
use on the road that you and I are to travel. You had better
leave him in my stable.'
"' I want him to carry my traps,' said he;' it may be
some days that we shall be absent.'
" I assured him that he must be his own beast of burthen,




158           [OUGIIG IT 1V THE BUSH.
and carry his axe, and blanket, and wallet of food upon his
own back. The little body did not much relish this arrangement; but as there was no help for it, he very good-naturedly
complied. Off we set, and soon climbed the steep ridge at
the back of your farm, and got upon ---   lake plains. The
woods were flush with flowers; and the little man grew into
such an ecstacy, that at every fresh specimen he uttered a
yell of joy, cut a caper in the air, and flung himself down
upon them, as if he was drunk with delight.'Oh, what
treasures! what treasures' he cried.'I shall make my
fortune!'
" It is seldom I laugh," quoth Brian, " but I could not help
laughing at this odd little man; for it was not the beautiful
blossoms such as you delight to paint, that drew forth these
exclamations, but the queer little plants, which he had rummaged for at the roots of old trees, among the moss and long
grass. He sat upon a decayed trunk, which lay in our path,
I do believe for a long hour, making an oration over some
grayish things, spotted with red, that grew upon it, which
looked more like mould than plants, declaring himself repaid
for all the trouble and expense he had been at, if it were only
to obtain a sight of them. I gathered him a beautiful blossom
of the lady's slipper; but he pushed it back when I presented
it to him, saying,'Yes, yes,'tis, very fine. I have seen that
often before, but these lichens are splendid.'
" The man had so little taste that I thought him a fool, and
so I left him to talk to his dear plants, while I shot partridges
for our supper. We spent six days in the woods, and the
little man filled his black wallet with all sorts of rubbish, as
if he wilfully shut his eyes to the beautiful flowers, and chose
only to admire ugly, insignificant plants, that every body
else passes by without noticing, and which, often as I had been
in the woods, I never had observed before. I never pursued




BRIAN, TIHE STILL-HUN3TER.          159
a deer with such earnestness as he continued his hunt forwhat
he called' specilens.'
" When we came to the Cold Creek, which is pretty deep in
places, he was in such a hurry to get at some plants that grew
under the water, that in reaching after them he lost his balance
and fell head over heels into the stream. He got a thorough
ducking, and was in a terrible fright; but he held on to the
flowers which had caused the trouble, and thanked his stars
that he had saved them as well as his life. Well, he was an
innocent man," continued Brian; "a very little made him
happy, and at night he would sing and amuse himself like a
child. He gave me ten dollars for my trouble, and I never
saw him again; but I often think of him, when hunting
in the woods that we wandered through together, and I pluck
the wee plants that he used to admire, and wonder why he
preferred them to the fine flowers."
When our resolution was formed to sell our farm, and take
up our grant of land in the backwoods, no one was so earnest
in trying to persuade us to give uip this ruinous scheme as our
friend Brian B, who became quite eloquent in his description of the trials and sorrows that awaited us. During the
last week of our stay in the township of H, he visited
us every evening, and never bade us good-night without a tear
moistening his cheek. We parted with the hunter as with an
old friend; and we never met again. His fate was a sad one.
After we left that part of the country, he fell into a moping
melancholy, which ended in self-destruction. But a kinder or
warmer-hearted man, while he enjoyed the light of reason, has
seldom crossed our path.




160          RO UGHING IT IS THE.BUSH
CHAPTER XI.
THE CHARIVARI.
THE moan of the wind tells of the coming rain that it bears
upon its wings; the deep stillness of the woods, and the
lengthened shadow they cast upon the stream, silently but
surely foreshow the bursting of the thunder-cloud; and who
that has lived for any time upon the coast, can mistake the
language of the waves; that deep prophetic surging that
ushers in the terrible gale? So it is with the human heartit has its mysterious warnings, its fits of sunshine and shade,
of storm and calm, now elevated with anticipations of joy,
now depressed by dark presentiments of ill.
All who have ever trodden this earth, possessed of the
powers of thought and reflection, of tracing effects back to
their causes, have listened to these voices of the soul, and
secretly acknowledged their power; but few, very few, have
had courage boldly to declare their belief in them: the wisest
and the best have given credence to them, and the experience
of every day proves their truth; yea, the proverbs of past
ages abound with allusions to the same subject, and though
the worldly may sneer, and the good man reprobate the
belief in a theory which he considers dangerous, yet the
former, when he appears led by an irresistible impulse to
enter into some fortunate, but until then unthought-of speculation; and the latter, when he devoutly exclaims that God has
met him in prayer, unconsciously acknowledge the same




THE  G7HARIVAaRL              161
spiritual agency. For my own part, I have no doubts upon
the subject, and have found many times, and at different periods of my life, that the voice in the soul speaks truly; that
if we gave stricter heed to its mysterious warnings, we should
be saved much after-sorrow.
Well do I remember how sternly and solemnly this inward monitor warned me of approaching ill, the last night I
spent at home; how it strove to draw me back as from a
fearful abyss, beseeching me not to leave England and emigrate to Canada, and how gladly would I have obeyed the
injunction had it still been in my power. I had bowed to a
superior mandate, the command of duty; for my husband's
sake, for the sake of the infant, whose little bosom heaved
against my swelling heart, I had consented to bid adieu for
ever to my native shores, and it seemed both useless and sinful to draw back.
Yet, by what stern necessity were we driven forth to seek
a new home amid the western wilds? We were not compelled to emigrate. Bound to England by a thousand holy
and endearing ties, surrounded by a circle of chosen friends,
and happy in each other's love, we possessed all that the
world can bestow of good-but wealth. The half-pay of a
subaltern officer, managed with the most rigid economy, is
too small to supply the wants of a family; and if of a good
family, not enough to maintain his original standing in society.
True, it may find his children bread, it may clothe them indifferently, but it leaves nothing for the indispensable requirements of education, or the painful contingencies of sickness
and misfortune. In such a case, it is both wise and right to
emigrate; Nature points it out as the only safe remedy for
the evils arising out of an over-dense population, and her advice is always founded upon justice and truth.
Up to the period of which I now speak, we had not expe



162          PO   hIZ 0 UllYG IT IN THIE B UST.
rienced much inconvenience from our very limited means.
Our wants were few, and we enjoyed many of the comforts
and even some of the luxuries of life; and all had gone on
smoothly and lovingly with us until the birth of our first
child. It was then that prudence whispered to the father,
" You are happy and contented now, but this cannot always
last; the birth of that child whom you have hailed with as
much rapture as though she were born to inherit a noble
estate, is to you the beginning of care. Your family may increase, and your wants will increase in proportion; out of
what fund can you satisfy their demands  Some provision
must be made for the future, and made quickly, while youth
and health enable you to combat successfully with the ills of
life. When you married for inclination, you knew that emigration must be the result of such an act of imprudence in
over-populated England. Up and be doing, while you still
possess the means of transporting yourself to a land where
the industrious can never lack bread, and where there is a
chance that wealth and independence may reward virtuous
toil."
Alas! that truth should ever whisper such unpleasant
realities to the lover of ease-to the poet, the author, the
musician, the man of books, of refined taste and gentlemanly
habits. Yet he took the hint, and began to bestir himself
with the spirit and energy so characteristic of the glorious
North, from whence he sprung.
" The sacrifice,' he said, "must be made, and the sooner
the better. My dear wife, I feel confident that you will re
spend to the call of duty, and, hand in hand and heart in heart,
we will go forth to meet difficulties, and, by the help of God,
to subdue them."
Dear husband! I take shame to myself that my purpose
was less firm, that my heart lingered so far. behind yours in




THE CHARIVARI.                163
preparing for this great epoch in our lives; that, like Lot's
wife, I still turned and looked back, and clung with all my
strength to the land I was leaving. It was not the hardships
of an emigrant's life I dreaded. I could bear mere physical
privations philosophically enough; it was the loss of the society in which I had moved, the want of congenial minds, of
persons engaged in congenial pursuits, that made me so reluctant to respond to my husband's call.
I was the youngest in a family remarkable for their literary
attainments; and, while yet a child, I had seen riches melt
away from our once prosperous home, as the Canadian snows
dissolve before the first warm days of spring, leaving the
verdureless earth naked and bare.
There was, however, a spirit in my family that rose
superior to the crushing influences of adversity. Poverty,
which so often degrades the weak mind, became their best
teacher, the stern but fruitful parent of high resolve and ennobling thought. The very misfortune that overwhelmed,
became the source from whence they derived both energy
and strength, as the inundation of some mighty river fertilizes
the shores over which it first spreads ruin and desolation.
Without losing aught of their former position in society, they
dared to be poor; to place mind above matter, and make the
talents with which the great Father had liberally endowed
them, work out their appointed end. The world sneered, and
summer friends forsook them; they turned their back upon
the world, and upon the ephemeral tribes that live but in its
smiles.
From out the solitude in which they dwelt, their names
went forth through the crowded cities of that cold, sneering
world, and their names were mentioned with respect by the
wise and good; and what they lost in wealth they more than
regained in well-earned reputation.




164           ROUGINIVG  I IT 1N THE B US.
Brought up in this school of self-denial, it would have been
strange indeed if all its wise and holy precepts had brought
forth no corresponding fruit. I endeavoured to reconcile myself to the change that awaited me, to accommodate my mind
and pursuits to the new position in which I found myself
placed.
Many a hard battle had we to fight with old prejudices,
and many proud swellings of the heart to subdue, before we
could feel the least interest in the land of our adoption, or look
upon it as our home.
All was new, strange, and distasteful to us; we shrank from
the rude, coarse familiarity of the uneducated people among
whom we were thrown; and they in return viewed us as innovators, who wished to curtail their independence, by expecting from them the kindly civilities and gentle courtesies
of a more refined community. They considered us proud
and shy, when we were only anxious not to give offence.
The semi-barbarous Yankee squatters, who had "left their
country for their country's good," and by whom we were surrounded in our first settlement, detested us, and with them we
could have no feeling in common. We could neither lie nor
cheat in our dealings with them; and they despised us for
our ignorance in trading and our want of smartness.
The utter want of that common courtesy with which a
well-brought-up European addresses the poorest of his brethren, is severely felt at first by settlers in Canada. At the
period of which I am now speaking, the titles of " sir" or
"madam" were very rarely applied by inferiors. They entered your house without knocking; and while boasting of
their freedom, violated one of its dearest laws, which considers
even the cottage of the poorest labourer his castle, and his
privacy sacred.
" Is your man to hum?"-" Is the woman within 2" were




THE CHARIVARI                  165
the general inquiries made to me by such guests, while my
bare-legged, ragged Irish servants were always spoken to, as
"sir" and " mem," as if to make the distinction more pointed.
While they treated our claims to their respect with marked
insult and rudeness, I never could satisfactorily determine, in
any way that could reflect honour on the species, or even
plead an excuse for its brutality, until I found that this insolence was more generally practised by the low, uneducated
emigrants from Britain, who better understood your claims
to their civility, than by the natives themselves. Then I discovered the secret.
The unnatural restraint which society imposes upon these
people at home, forces them to treat their more fortunate
brethren with a servile deference which is repugnant to their
feelings, and is thrust upon them by the dependent circumstances in which they are placed. This homage to rank and
education is not sincere. Hatred and envy lie rankling at their
heart, although hidden by outward obsequiousness. Necessity compels their obedience; they fawn, and cringe, and
flatter the wealth on which they depend for bread. But let
them once emigrate, the clog which fettered them is suddenly
removed; they are free; and the dearest privilege of this
freedom is to wreak upon their superiors the long-locked-up
hatred of their hearts. They think they can debase you to
their level by disallowing all your claims to distinction;
while they hope to exalt themselves and their fellows into
ladies and gentlemen by sinking you back to the only title
you received from  Nature-plain "man" and "woman."
Oh, how much more honourable than their vulgar pretensions!
I never knew the real dignity of these simple epithets until
they were insultingly thrust upon us by the working-classes
of Canada.




166           RO UGITmG IT IN THE B USH.
But from this folly the native-born Canadian is exempt; it
is only practised by the low-born Yankee, or the Yankeefied
British peasantry and mechanics. It originates in the enormous reaction springing out of a sudden emancipation from
a state of utter dependence into one of unrestrained liberty.
As such, I not only excuse, but forgive it, for the principle
is founded in nature; and, however disgusting and distasteful
to those accustomed to different treatment from their inferiors, it is better than a hollow profession of duty and attachment urged upon us by a false and unnatural position. Still
it is very irksome until you think more deeply upon it; and
then it serves to amuse rather than to irritate.
Seventeen years has made as great a difference in the state
of society in Canada, as it has in its commercial and political
importance. When we came to the Canadas, society was
composed of elements which did not always amalgamate in
the best possible manner.
We were reckoned no addition to the society of C —.
Authors and literary people they held in supreme detestation;
and I was told by a lady, the very first time I appeared in
company, that " she heard that I wrote books, but she could
tell me that they did not want a Mrs. Trollope in Canada."
I had not then read Mrs. Trollope's work on America, or
I should have comprehended at once the cause of her indignation; for she was just such a person as would have drawn
forth the keen satire of that far-seeing observer of the absurdities of our nature, whose witty exposure of American affectation has done more towards producing a reform in that respect,
than would have resulted from a thousand grave animadversions soberly written.
Another of my self-constituted advisers informed me, with
great asperity in her look and tone, that " it would be better
for me to lay by the pen, and betake myself to some more




TLHE CHARIVARI.                167
useful employment; that she thanked her God that she could
make a shirt, and see to the cleaning of her house!"
These remarks were perfectly gratuitous, and called forth
by no observation of mine; for I tried to conceal my blue
stockings beneath the long conventional robes of the tamest
commonplace, hoping to cover the faintest tinge of the objectionable colour. I had spoken to neither of these women in
my life, and was much amused by their remarks; particularly
as I could both make a shirt, and attend to the domestic
arrangement of my family, as well as either of them. I
verily believe that they expected to find an author one of a
distinct species from themselves; that they imagined the
aforesaid biped should neither eat, drink, sleep, nor talk like
other folks;-a proud, useless, self-conceited, affected animal,
that deserved nothing but kicks and buffets from the rest of
mankind.
Anxious not to offend them, I tried to avoid all literary
subjects. I confined my conversation to topics of common
interest; but this gave greater offence than the most ostentatious show of learning, for they concluded that I would not
talk on such subjects, because I thought them incapable of
understanding me. This was more wounding to their self-love
than the most arrogant assumption on my part; and they regarded me with a jealous, envious, stand-aloofishness, that was
so intolerable that I gave up all ideas of visiting them. I was
so accustomed to hear the whispered remark, or to have it
retailed to me by others, " Oh, yes, she can write, but she can
do nothing else," that I was made more diligent in cultivating
every branch of domestic usefulness; so that these ill-natured
sarcasms ultimately led to my acquiring a great mass of most
useful practical knowledge. Yet-such is the contradiction
inherent in our poor fallen nature-these people were more
annoyed by my proficiency in the common labours of a house




168           ROUGHING IT IN THE    USH.
hold, than they would have been by any displays of my unm
fortunate authorship. Never was the fable of the old man
and his ass so truly verified.
There is very little of the social, friendly visiting among the
Canadians which constitutes the great charm of home. Their
hospitality is entirely reserved for those monster meetings in
which they vie with each other in displaying fine clothes and
costly furniture. As these large parties are very expensive,
few families can afford to give more than one during the visiting season, which is almost exclusively confined to the winter.
The great gun once fired, you meet no more at the same house
around the social board until the ensuing year, and would
scarcely know that you had a neighbour, were it not for a
formal morning call made now and then, just to remind you
that such individuals are in the land of the living, and still
exist in your near vicinity.
I am speaking of visiting in the towns and villages. The
manners and habits of the European settlers in the country
are far more simple and natural, and their hospitality more
genuine and sincere.  They have not been sophisticated by
the hard, worldly wisdom of a Canadian town, and still retain
a warm remembrance of the kindly humanities of home.
Among the women, a love of dress exceeds all other passions. In public they dress in silks and satins, and wear the
most expensive ornaments, and they display considerable
taste in the arrangement and choice of colours. The wife of
a man in moderate circumstances, whose income does not exceed two or three hundred pounds a-year, does not hesitate in
expending ten or fifteen pounds upon one article of outside
finery, while often her inner garments are not worth as many
sous; thus sacrificing to outward show all the real comforts
of life. The aristocracy of wealth is bad enough; but the
aristocracy of dress is perfectly contemptible. Could Raphael




THiE CvHAlRIVALR                169
visit Canada in rags, he would be nothing in their eyes beyond
a common sign-painter.
Great and manifold, even to the ruin of families, are the
evils arising from this inordinate love for dress. They derive
their fashions from the French and the Americans-seldom
from the English, whom they far surpass in the neatness and
elegance of their costume.
The Canadian women, while they retain the bloom and
freshness of youth, are exceedingly pretty; but these charms
soon fade, owing, perhaps, to the fierce extremes of their climate, or the withering effect of the dry, metallic air of stoves,
and their going too early into company and being exposed,
while yet children, to the noxious influence of late hours, and
the sudden change from heated rooms to the cold, biting, bitter
winter blast.
Though small of stature, they are generally well and symmetrically formed, and possess a graceful, easy carriage. The
early age at which they marry, and are introduced into society, takes from them all awkwardness and restraint. A girl
of fourteen can enter a crowded ball-room with as much selfpossession, and converse with as much confidence, as a matron
of forty. The blush of timidity and diffidence is, indeed, rare
upon the cheek of a Canadian beauty. Their education is so
limited and confined to so few accomplishments, and these not
very perfectly taught, that their conversation seldom goes beyond a particular discussion on their own dress, or that of
their neighbours, their houses, furniture, and servants, sometimes interlarded with a little harnzless gossip, which, however,
tells keenly upon the characters of their dear friends.
Yet they have abilities, excellent practical abilities, which,
with a little mental culture, would render them intellectual
and charming companions. At present, too many of these
truly lovely girls remind one of choice flowers half buried in
8




170          ROUGH       IfG IIT N- THE BUSH.
weeds. Music and dancing are their chief accomplishments.
In the former they seldom excel. Though possessing an excellent general taste for music, it is seldom in their power to
bestow upon its study the time which is required to make
a really good musician. They are admirable proficients in the
other art, which they acquire readily, with the least instruction, often without any instruction at all, beyond that which is
given almost intuitively by a good ear for time, and a quick
perception of the harmony of motion.
The waltz is their favourite dance, in which old and young
join with the greatest avidity; it is not unusual to see parents
and their grown-up children dancing in the same set in a
public ball-room.  Their taste in music is not for the sentimental; they prefer the light, lively tunes of the Virginian
minstrels to the most impassioned strains of Bellini.
On entering one of the public ball-rooms, a stranger would
be delighted with such a display of pretty faces and neat
figures. I have hardly ever seen a really plain Canadian
girl in her teens; and a downright ugly one is almost unknown.
The high cheek-bones, wide mouth, and turned-up nose
of the Saxon race, so common among the lower classes in
Britain, are here succeeded in the next generation, by the
small oval face, straight nose, and beautifully-cut mouth of
the American; while the glowing tint of the Albion rose
pales beneath the withering influence of late hours and stoveheat.
They are naturally a fine people, and possess capabilities
and talents, which, when improved by cultivation, will render
them second to no people in the world; and that period is
not far distant.
Idiots and mad people are so seldom met with among
natives of the colony, that not one of this description of un



THE COHARIVA1lI.               171
fortunates has ever come under my own immediate observation.
It was towards the close of the summer of 1833, which
had been unusually cold and wet for Canada, while Moodie
was absent at D —, inspecting a portion of his government grant of land, that I was startled one night, just before
retiring to rest, by the sudden firing of guns in our near vicinity, accompanied by shouts and yells, the braying of horns,
the beating of drums, and the barking of all the dogs in the
neighbourhood. I never heard a more stunning uproar of
discordant and hideous sounds.
What could it all mean?   The maid-servant, as much
alarmed as myself, opened the door and listened.
"The goodness defend us!" she exclaimed, quickly closing
it, and drawing a bolt seldom used. "We shall be murdered.
The Yankees must have taken Canada, and are marching
hither."
" Nonsense! that cannot be it. Besides, they would never
leave the main road to attack a poor place like this. Yet the
noise is very near. Hark! they are firing again.  Bring
me the hammer and some nails, and let us secure the windows."
The next moment I laughed at my folly in attempting to
secure a log hut, when the application of a match to its rotten
walls would consume it in a few minutes. Still, as the noise
increased, I was really frightened.  My servant, who was
Irish (for my Scotch girl, Bell, had taken to herself a husband, and I had been obliged to hire another in her place, who
had been only a few days in the country), began to cry and
wring her hands, and lament her hard fate in coming to Canada.
Just at this critical moment, when we were both self-convicted of an arrant cowardice, which would have shamed a
Canadian child of six years old, Mrs. 0 —   tapped at the




172            0 UGIRING IT IN TlEW BUSEKH.
door, and although generally a most unwelcome visitor, from
her gossiping, mischievous propensities, I gladly let her in.
" Do tell me," I cried, " the meaning of this strange uproar 2"
" Oh,'tis nothing," she replied, laughing; " you and Mary
look as white as a sheet; but you need not be alarmed. A
set of wild fellows have met to charivari Old Satan, who has
married his fourth wife to-night, a young gal of sixteen. I
should not wonder if some mischief happens among them, for
they are a bad set, made up of all the idle loafers about Port
Hi —--- and C."
"What is a charivari " said I. "Do, pray, enlighten
me."
"Have you been nine months in Canada, and ask that question. Why, I thought you knew every thing! Well, I will
tell you what it is. The charivari is a custom that the Canadians got from the French, in the Lower Province, and a
queer custom it is. When an old man marries a young wife,
or an old woman a young husband, or two old people, who
ought to be thinking of their graves, enter for the second dr
third time into the holy estate of wedlock, as the priest calls
it, all the idle young fellows in the neighbourhood meet together to charivari them. For this purpose they disguise
themselves, blackening their faces, putting their clothes on
hind part before, and wearing horrible masks, with grotesque
caps on their heads, adorned with cocks' feathers and bells.
They then form in a regular body, and proceed to the bridegroom's house, to the sound of tin kettles, horns, and
drums, cracked fiddles, and all the discordant instruments
they can collect together. Thus equipped, they surround
the house where the wedding is held, just at the hour when the
happy couple are supposed to be about to retire to rest-beating upon the door with clubs and staves and demanding of the




THE CHARI VARI                 173
bridegroom admittance to drink the bride's health, or in lieu
thereof to receive a certain sum of money to treat the band
at the nearest tavern.
"If the bridegroom  refuses to appear and grant their
request, they commence the horrible din you hear, firing guns
charged with peas against the doors and windows, rattling
old pots and kettles, and abusing him for his stinginess in no
measured terms. Sometimes they break open the doors, and
seize upon the bridegroom; he may esteem himself a very fortunate man, under such circumstances, if he escapes being ridden
on a rail, tarred and feathered, and otherwise maltreated. I
have known many fatal accidents arise out of an imprudent refusal to satisfy the demands of the assailants. People have even
lost their lives in the fray; and I think the government should
interfere, and put down these riotous meetings. Surely, it is
very hard, that an old man cannot marry a young gal, if she is
willing to take him, without asking the leave of such a rabble
as that. What right have they to interfere with his private
affairs 2?
" What, indeed?" said I, feeling a truly British indignation
at such a lawless infringement upon the natural rights of man.
"I remember," continued Mrs. 0, who had got fairly
started upon a favourite subject, " a scene of this kind, that was
acted two years ago, at -, when old Mr. P-  took his third
wife. He was a very rich storekeeper, and had made during
the war a great deal of money. Hie felt lonely in his old age;
and married a young, handsome widow, to enliven his house.
The lads in the village were determined to make him pay for
his frolic. This got wind, and Mr. P —- was advised to
spend the honeymoon in Toronto; but he only laughed, and
said that'he was not going to be frightened from his comfortable home by the threats of a few wild boys.' In the morning,
he was married at the church, and spent the day at home,




174          RO UGHING IT IN THE BUSH.
where he entertained a large party of his own and the bride's
friends. During the evening, all the idle chaps in the town
collected about the house, headed by a mad young bookseller,
who had offered himself for their captain, and, in the usual
forms, demanded a sight of the bride, and liquor to drink her
health. They were very good-naturedly received by Mr.
P-, who sent a friend down to them to bid them welcome,
and to inquire on what terms they would consent to let him
off, and disperse.
"The captain of the band demanded sixty pounds, as he,
Mr. P, could well afford to pay it.
"'That's too much, my fine fellows!' cried Mr. P —
from the open window. Say twenty-five, and I will send you
down a cheque upon the Bank of Montreal for the money.'
"'Thirty! thirty! thirty! old boy!' roared a hundred
voices.'Your wife's worth that. Down with the cash, and
we will give you three cheers, and three times three for the
bride, and leave you to sleep in peace. If you hang back, we
will raise such a'larum about your ears that you sha'n't know
that your wife's your own for a month to come!'
"' I'll give you twenty-five,' remonstrated the bridegroom,
not the least alarmed at their threats, and laughing all the
time in his sleeve.
"'Thirty; not one copper less!' Here they gave him
such a salute of diabolical sounds that he ran from the window with his hands to his ears, and his friend came down
stairs to the verandah, and gave them the sum they required.
They did not expect that the old man would have been so
liberal, and they gave him the' Hip, hip, hip, hurrah' in fine
style, and marched off to finish the night and spend the money
at the tavern."
"And do people allow themselves to be bullied out of
their property by such ruffians?"




THE CIARI VARI.                175,C Ah, my dear!'tis the custom of the country, and'tis not
so easy to put it down. But I can tell you that a charivari is
not always a joke.
"There was another affair that happened, just before you
came to the place, that occasioned no small talk in the neighbourhood; and well it might, for it was a most disgraceful
piece of business, and attended with very serious consequences.  Some of the charivari party had to fly, or they
might have ended their days in the penitentiary.
" There was a runaway nigger from the States came to the
village, and set up a barber's poll, and settled among us. I
am no friend to the blacks; but really Tom Smith was such
a quiet, good-natured fellow, and so civil and obliging, that he
soon got a good business. He was clever, too, and cleaned
old clothes until they looked almost as good as new. Well,
after a time he persuaded a white girl to marry him. She
was not a bad-looking Irishwoman, and I can't think what
bewitched the creature to take him.
"Her marriage with the black man created a great sensation in the town. All the young fellows were indignant at
his presumption and her folly, and they determined to give
them the charivari in fine style, and punish them both for the
insult they had put upon the place.
" Some of the young gentlemen in the town joined in the
frolic. They went so far as to enter the house, drag the poor
nigger from his bed, and, in spite of his shrieks for mercy,
they hurried hil out into the cold air-for it was winterand almost naked as he was, rode him upon a rail, and so illtreated him that he died under their hands.
" They left the body, when they found what had happened,
and fled. The ringleaders escaped across the lake to the
other side; and those who remained could not be sufficiently
identified to bring them to trial. The affair was hushed up;




176           ROUGCIIVG IT IN I THE B USH.
but it gave great uneasiness to several respectable families
whose sons were in the scrape."
" Good heavens! are such things permitted in a Christian country? But scenes like these must be of rare occurrence 1?
"They are more common than you imagine. A man was
killed up at W  ---   the other day, and two others dangerously wounded, at a charivari. The bridegroom was a man
in middle life, a desperately resolute and passionate man, and
he swore that if such riff-raff dared to interfere with him, he
would shoot at them with as little compunction as he would
at so many crows. His threats only increased the mischievous
determination of the mob to torment him; and when he refused to admit their deputation, or even to give them a portion
of the wedding cheer, they determined to frighten him into
compliance by firing several guns, loaded with peas, at his
door. Their salute was returned from the chamber window,
by the discharge of a double-barrelled gun, loaded with buckshot. The crowd gave back with a tremendous yell. Their
leader was shot through the heart, and two of the foremost in
the scuffle dangerously wounded. They vowed they would
set fire to the house, but the bridegroom boldly stepped to
the window, and told them to try it, and before they could
light a torch he would fire among them again, as his' gun was
reloaded, and he would discharge it at them as long as one of
them dared to remain on his premises.
"They cleared off; but though Mr. A-   was not punished for the accident, as it was called, he became a marked
man, and lately left the colony, to settle in the United States.
" Why, Mrs. Moodie, you look quite serious. I can, however, tell you a less dismal tale. A charivari would seldom
be attended with bad consequences if people would take it as
a joke, and join in the spree."




THE CHARIVARI.                 177
"A very dignified proceeding, for a bride and bridegroom
to make themselves the laughing-stock of such people!"
"Oh, but custom reconciles us to every thing; and'tis
better to give up a little of our pride than endanger the lives
of our fellow-creatures. I have been told a story of a lady in
the Lower Province, who took for her second husband a
young fellow, who, as far as his age was concerned, might
have been her son. The mob surrounded her house at night,
carrying her effigy in an open coffin, supported by six young
lads, with white favours in their hats; and they buried the poor
bride, amid shouts of laughter, and the usual accompaniments,
just opposite her drawing-room windows. The widow was
highly amused by the whole of their proceedings, but she
wisely let them have their own way. She lived in a strong
stone house, and she barred the doors, and closed the iron
shutters, and set them at defiance.
"'As long as she enjoyed her health,' she said,'they were
welcome to bury her in effigy as often as they pleased;
she was really glad to be able to afford amusement to so
many people.'
" Night after night, during the whole of that winter, the
same party beset her house with their diabolical music; but
she only laughed at them.
" The leader of the mob was a young lawyer from these
parts, a sad, mischievous fellow; the widow became aware of
this and she invited him one evening to take tea with a small
party at her house. He accepted the invitation, was charmed
with her hearty and hospitable welcome, and soon found himself quite at home; but only think how ashamed he must have
felt, when the same'laruin commenced, at the usual hour, in
front of the lady's house!
"'Oh,' said Mrs. R, smiling to her husband,'here
come our friends. Really, Mr. K —, they amuse us so
8*




178           ROUHtlNYG I1 IIN TIE' B USIL
much of an evening that I should feel quite dull without
them.'
" From that hour tne charivari ceased, and the old lady
was left to enjoy the society of her young husband in quiet.
" I assure you, Mrs. M —-, that the charivari often deters
old people from making disgraceful marriages, so that it is
not wholly without its use."
A few days after the charivari afiair, Mirs. D —  stepped
in to see me. She was an American; a very respectable old
lady, who resided in a handsome frame house on the main
road. I was at dinner, the servant-girl, in the mean while,
nursing my child at a distance. Mrs. D —  sat looking at
me very seriously until I concluded my meal, her dinner having been accomplished several hours before. When I had
finished, the girl gave me the child, and then removed the dinner service into an outer room.
" You don't eat with your helps," said my visitor. "Is
not that something like pride "
"It is custom," said I; "we were not used to do so at
home, and I think that keeping a separate table is more comfortable for both parties."
"Are you not both of the same flesh and blood? The
rich and the poor meet together, and the Lord is the maker
of them all."
"True. Your quotation is just, and I assent to it with all
my heart. There is no difference in the flesh and blood; but
education makes a difference in the mind and manners, and,
till these can assimilate, it is better to keep apart."
"Ah! you are not a good Christian, Mrs. Moodie. The
Lord thought more of the poor than He did of the rich, and
He obtained more followers from among them. Now. we
always take our meals with our people."
Presently after, while talking over the affairs of our house.




THE CHARIVARL                  179
holds, I happened to say that the cow we had bought of Mollineux had turned out extremely well, and gave a great deal
of milk.
" That man lived with us several years," she said; " he
was an excellent servant, and D -- paid him his wages in
land. The farm that he now occupies formed a part of our
New England grant. But, for all his good conduct, I never
could abide him, for being a black."
"Indeed! Is he not the same flesh and blood as the rest2"
" The colour rose into Mrs. D —'s sallow face, and she
answered, with much warmth,
" What! do you mean to compare me with a nigger?"
"Not exactly. But, after all, the colour makes the only
difference between him and uneducated men of the same
glass."
" Mrs. Moodie!" she exclaimed, holding up her hands in
oious horror, "they are the children of the devil! God never
Condescended to make a nigger."
"Such an idea is an impeachment of the power and maj-,sty of the Almighty. How can you believe in such an igno*ant fable 2"
"Well, then,' said my monitress, in high dudgeon, " if the
levil did not make them, they are descended from Cain."
" But all Cain's posterity perished in the flood."
My visitor was puzzled.
"The African race, it is generally believed, are the descendants of Ham, and to many of their tribes the curse proaounced against him seems to cling. To be the servant of servants is bad enough, without our making their condition worse
by our cruel persecutions. Christ came to seek and to save
that which was lost; and in proof of this inestimable promise,
he did not reject the Ethiopian eunuch who was baptized by
Philip, and who was, doubtless, as black as the rest of his




180          ROUGHYING IT IN THEE BUSH.
people. Do you not admit Mollineux to your table with your
other helps 2"
" Good God! do you think that I would sit down at the
same table with a nigger? My helps would leave the house
if I dared to put such an affront upon them. Sit down with a
dirty black, indeed!"
"Do you think, Mrs. D, that there will be any
negroes in heaven?"
"Certainly not, or I, for one, would never wish to go
there;" and out of the house she sallied in high disdain.
Yet this was the woman who had given me such a plausible lecture on pride. Alas, for our fallen nature! Which is
more subversive of peace and Christian fellowship-ignorance
of our own characters, or of the characters of others?
Our departure for the woods became now a frequent
theme of conversation. My husband had just returned from
an exploring expedition to the backwoods, and was delighted
with the prospect of removing thither. The only thing I
listened to in their praise, with any degree of interest, was a
lively little song, which he had written during his brief sojourn
at Douro,




THE LAND-JOBBER.                181
CHAPTER XII.
THE LAND-JOBBER.
(AN INTERiMBEDIATE CHAPTER, BY J. W. D. MOODIE.)
I HAD a letter of introduction to a gentleman of large
property, at C -, who, knowing that I wished to purchase a farm, very kindly drove me out to several lots of land
in the immediate neighbourhood. He showed me seven or
eight very eligible lots of cleared land, some of them with
good houses and orchards; but some how or other, on inquiry,
I found they all belonged to himself, and, moreover, the prices
were beyond my limited means. For one farm he asked
~1000; for another, ~1500, and so on. After inquiring in
other quarters, I saw I had no chance of getting a farm in
that neighbourhood for the price I could afford to pay down,
which was only about ~300. After satisfying myself as to
this fact, I thought it the wiser course at once to undeceive
my very obliging friend, whose attentions were obviously
nicely adjusted to the estimate he had formed in his own
mind of my pecuniary resources.
On communicating this discouraging fact, my friend's
countenance instantly assumed a cold and stony expression,
and I almost expected that he would have stopped his horses
and set me down, to walk with other poor men. As may
well be supposed, I was never afterwards honoured with a
seat in his carriage, He saw just what I was worth, and 1
saw what his friendship was worth; and thus our brief ac
quaintance terminated.




182          RO UGHING IT IN THE BUSH.
Having thus let the cat out of the bag, when I might, according to the usual way of the world, have sported for a while
in borrowed plumage, and rejoiced in the reputation of being
in more prosperous circumstances without fear of detection, I
determined to pursue the same course, and make use of the
little insight I had obtained into the ways of the land-jobbers
of Canada, to procure a cleared farm on more reasonable
terms.
It is not uncommon for the land speculators to sell a farm
to a respectable settler at an unusually low price, in order to
give a character to a neighbourhood where they hold other
lands, and thus to use him as a decoy duck for friends or
countrymen.
There was a very noted character at C -, Mr. Q-,
a great land-jobber, who did a large business in this way on
his own account, besides getting through a great deal of dirty
work for other more respectable speculators, who did not
wish to drink at taverns and appear personally in such matters. To Mr. Q-    I applied, and effected a purchase of a
farm of one hundred and fifty acres, about fifty of which were
cleared, for ~300, as I shall mention more particularly in the
sequel. In the mean time, the character of this distinguished
individual was-for he has long gone to give an account of his
misdeeds in the other world-so remarkable,' that I must endeavour to describe it for the edification of the reader. Q —
kept a shop, or store, in C; but he left the principal
management of this establishment to his clerks; while, taking
advantage of the influx of emigrants, he pursued, with unrivalled success, the profitable business of land-jobbing.
In his store, before taking to this business, he had been
accustomed for many years to retail goods to the farmers at
high prices, on the usual long credit system. He had thus
got a number of farmers deeply in his debt, and, in many




THE LAND-JOBBER.                183
cases, in preference to suing them, had taken mortgages on
their farms. By this means, instead of merely recovering the
money owing to him by the usual process of law, he was enabled, by threatening to foreclose the mortgages, to compel
them to sell their farms nearly on his own terms, whenever
an opportunity occurred to re-sell them advantageously to
new comers. Thus, besides making thirty or forty per cent.
on his goods, he often realized more than a hundred per cent.
on his land speculations.
In a new country, where there is no great competition in
mercantile business, and money is scarce, the power and
profits of store keepers are very great. Mr. Q —  was one
of the most grasping of this class. His heart was case-hardened, and his conscience like gum-elastic; it would readily
stretch, on the shortest notice, to any required extent, while
his well-tutored countenance betrayed no indication of what
was passing in his mind. But I must not forget to give a
sketch of the appearance, or outward man, of this highlygifted individual.
He was about the middle size, thin and limber, and somewhat loose in his lower joints, like most of the native Canadians
and Yankees. He had a slight stoop in his shoulders, and his
long, thin neck was continually stretched out before him,
while his restless little cunning eyes were roaming about in
search of prey. His face, when well watched, was an index
to his selfish and unfeeling soul. Complexion he had none,
except that sempiternally enduring red-and-tawny mixture
which is acquired by exposure and hard drinking. His cheeks
and the corners of his eyes were marked by an infinity of
curved lines, and, like most avaricious and deceitful men, he
had a long, crooked chin, and that peculiar prominent and
slightly aquiline nose, which, by people observant of such
indications, has been called'"the rogue's nose."  But how




184          ROUGHI1NG IT' 17N TIE BUS
shall I describe his eye-that small hole through which you
can see an honest man's heart? Q —'s eye was like no
other eye I had ever seen. His face and mouth could assume
a good-natured expression, and smile; but his eye was still
the same-it never smiled, but remained cold, hard, dry, and
inscrutable. If it had any expression at all, it was an unhappy
one. Such were the impressions created by his appearance,
when the observer was unobserved by him; for he had the
art of concealing the worst traits of his character in an extraordinary degree, and when he suspected that the curious
hieroglyphics which Nature had stamped on his visage were
too closely scanned, he knew well how to divert the investigator's attention to some other object.
He was a humorist, besides, in his way, because he found
that jokes and fun admirably served his turn. They helped
to throw people off their guard, and to conceal his hang-dog
look.
He had a hard head, as well as a hard heart, and could
stand any quantity of drink.  His drinking, however, like
every thing else about him, had a motive; and, instead of
trying to appear sober, like other drunkards, he rather wished
to appear a little elevated. In addition to his other acquirements, Q —- was a most accomplished gambler. In short,
no virtuous man, who employs every passing moment of his
short life in doing good to his fellow-creatures, could be more
devoted and energetic in his endeavours to serve God and
mankind, than Q — was in his endeavours to ease them of
their spare cash.
He possessed a great deal of that free-and-easy address and
tact which distinguish the Canadians; and, in addition to the
current coin of vulgar flattery which is found so useful in all
countries, his quick eye could discover the high-minded gentleman by a kind of instinct, which did not seem quite natural




TI~E LAND-JOBBER.               185
to his sordid character; and, knowing that such men are not
to be taken by vulgar adulation, he could address them with
deferential respect; against which no minds are entirely
secure. Thus he wriggled himself into their good graces.
After a while the unfavourable impression occasioned by his
sinister countenance would become more faint, while his wellfeigned kindness and apparent indulgence to his numerous
debtors, would tell greatly in his favour.
My first impression of this man was pretty nearly such as
I have described; and, though I suspected and shunned him, I
was shure to meet him at every turn. At length this unfavourable feeling wore off in some degree, and finding him in
the best society of the place, I began to think that his countenance belied him, and I reproached myself for my ungenerous
suspicions.
Feeling a certain security in the smallness of my available
capital, I did not hesitate in applying to Mr. Q —  to sell
me a farm, particularly as I was aware of his anxiety to
induce me to settle near C —, for the reasons already stated.
I told him that ~300 was the very largest sum I could give
for a farm, and that, if I could not get one for that price,
I should join my friends in the backwoods.
Q —, after scratching his head, and considering for a few
minutes, told me that he knew a farm which he could sell me
for that price, particularly as he wished to get rid of a set of
Yankee rascals who prevented emigrants from settling in that
neighbourhood. We afterwards found that there was but too
good reason for the character he gave of some of our neighbours.
Q — held a mortgage for ~150 on a farm belonging to a
certain Yankee settler, named Joe H —, as security for
a debt incurred for goods at his store, in C-. The idea
instantly struck Q —   that he would compel Joe H   to




186          ROC UGING IT Li TIE BUSH.
sell him his farm, by threatening to foreclose the mortgage. 1
drove out with Mr. Q —   next day to see the farm in question. It was situated in a pretty retired valley, surrounded
by hills, about eight miles from C, and about a mile
from the great road leading to Toronto. There was an extensive orchard upon the farm, and two log houses, and a large
frame barn. A considerable portion of the cleared land was
light and sandy; and the uncleared part of the farm, situated
on the flat, rocky summit of a high hill, was reserved for " a
sugar bush," and for supplying fuel. On the whole, I was
pleased with the farm, which was certainly cheap at the price
of ~300; and I therefore at once closed the bargain with Mr.
Q —
At that time I had not the slightest idea but that the farm
actually belonged to the land-jobber; and I am, to this day,
unable to tell by what means he succeeded in getting Mr.
H-     to part with his property.
The father of Joe H —   had cleared the farm, and while
the soil was new, it gave good crops; but as the rich surface,
or " black muck," as it is called, became exhausted by continual cropping, nothing but a poor, meagre soil remained.
The early settlers were wretched farmers; they never
ploughed deep enough, and never thought of manuring the
land. After working the land for several years, they would
let it lie waste for three or four years without sowing grassseeds, and then plough it up again for wheat. The greater
part of the hay raised on these farms was sold in the towns,
and the cattle were fed during the long severe winter on
wheat-straw. The natural result of this poor nourishment
was, that their cattle continually degenerated, and great numbers died every spring of a disease called the " hollow horn,"
which appears to be peculiar to this country. When the lands
became sterile, from this exhausting treatment, they were




THE LAND-JOBBER.                187
called " worn-out farms;" and the owners generally sold them
to new settlers from the old country, and with the money
they received, bought a larger quantity of wild lands, to provide for their sons; by whom the same improvident process
was recommenced.
These early settlers were, in fact, only fit for pioneers to a
more thrifty class of settlers.
Joe H-, or " Uncle Joe," as the country people call
any acquaintance, after a fashion borrowed, no doubt, from
the Dutch settlers of the State of New York, was, neither by
his habits nor industry, likely to become more prosperous
than his neighbours of the same thoughtless class. His father
had worked hard in his time, and Uncle Joe thought he had a
good right to enjoy himself. The nearest village was only
five miles from his place, and he was never without some
excuse for going thither every two or three days. His horse
wanted shoeing, or his plough or wagon wanted "to be
fixed" by the blacksmith or carpenter. As a matter of course,
he came home " pretty high;" for he was in the constant
habit of pouring a half-tumbler of whiskey down his throat,
standing bolt upright at the bar of the tavern, after which he
would drink about the same quantity of cold water to wash
it down. These habits, together with bad farming, and a
lazy, slovenly helpmate, in a few years made Joe as poor as
he could desire to be; and at last he was compelled to sell
his farm to Mr. Q-.
After we had got settled down on this farm, I had often
occasion to drive into C —, for the purpose of buying groceries and other necessaries, as we then thought them, at the
store of Mr. Q —. On these occasions I always took up
my quarters, for the time, at the tavern of our worthy Yankee
friend, Mr. S-. As I drove up to the door, I generally
found S —   walking about briskly on the boarded platform,




188           RO UGHING IT IN THE2 BUSH.
or " stoop," in front of the house, welcoming his guests in his
own peculiar free-and-easy style, looking after their horses,
and seeing that his people were attentive to their duties.
I think I see him  now before me, with his thin, erect,
lathy figure, his snub nose, and puckered-up face, wriggling
and twisting himself about, in. his desire to please his customers.
On stopping in front of the tavern, shortly after our settlement on the farm, Mr. S-   stepped up to me, in the most
familiar manner imaginable, holding out his hand quite condescendingly,-" Ah, Mister Moodie, ha-a —w do you do?
-ha-a-w's the old woman?"
At first I could not conceive whom he meant by this very
homely appellation; and I very simply asked him what
person he alluded to, as I had no old woman in my establishment.
" Why, your old woman, to be sure —your missus-Mrs.
Moodie, I guess. You don't quite understand our language
yet."
"! now I understand you; she's quite well, I thank you;
and how is our friend Mrs. S!" I replied, laying a slight
emphasis on the Mrs., by way of a gentle hint for his future
guidance.
"Mrs. S —, I guess she's smart, pret-ty considerable.
She'll be right glad to see you, for you're pretty considerable
of a favour-ite with her, I tell you; but now tell me what you
will drink?-for it's my treat."
As he said these words, he strutted into the tavern before
me, throwing his head and shoulders back, and rising on his
tiptoes every step.
Mrs. S —- had been a very hancsome woman, and still
retained much of her good looks. She was a most exemplary
housewife and manager. I was often astonished to witness




WEE LAND-JOBBER.                189
the incessant toil she had to endure in attending to the wants
of such a numerous household.
She had plenty of Irish " helps" in the kitchen; but they
knew as much of cookery as they did of astronomy, and poor
Mrs. S —'s hands, as well as her head, were in constant
requisition.
She had two very pretty daughters, whom she would not
suffer to do any rough work which would spoil their soft,
white hands. Mrs. S —, no doubt, foresaw that she could
not expect to keep such fair creatures long in such a marrying
country as Canada, and, according to the common caution of
divines, she held these blessings with a loose hand.
There was one sweet little girl, whom I had often seen in
her father's arms, with her soft dark eyes, and her long auburn
ringlets hanging in wild profusion over his shoulders.
" I guess she likes pa, some," Mr. S — would say when I
remarked her fondness for him.
This little fairy had a natural genius for music, and though
she was only four years old, she would sit for an hour at a
time at the door of our room to hear me play on the flute,
and would afterwards sing all the airs she picked up, with the
sweetest voice in the world.
Htumble as the calling of a tavern-keeper may be considered in England, it is looked upon in the United States,
where Mrs. S —    was "raised" as extremely respectable;
and I have never met with women, in any class of society
elsewhere, who possessed more of the good feeling and unobtrusive manners which should belong to ladies than in the
family of this worthy tavern-keeper.
When I contrast their genuine kindness and humanity
with the haughty, arrogant airs assumed by some ladies of a
higher standing in society, from England, who sojourned in
their house at the same time with ourselves,-when I remem



190         OR UGHING I IT N THE B USH.
ber their insolent way of giving their orders to Mrs. S —,
and their still more wounding condescension-I confess I cannot but feel ashamed of my countrywomen. All these patronizing airs, I doubt not, were assumed purposely to impress the
minds of those worthy people with an idea of their vast superiority. I have sometimes, I confess, been a little annoyed
with the familiarity of the Americans, Canadians as well as
Yankees; but I must say that experience has taught me to
blame myself at least as much as them. If, instead of sending our youthful aristocracy to the continent of Europe, to treat
the natives with contempt and. increase the unpopularity of
the British abroad, while their stock of native arrogance is
augmented by the cringing complaisance of those who only
bow to their superiority in wealth, they were sent to the
United States, or even to Canada, they would receive a lesson
or two which would be of infinite service to them; some of
their most repulsive prejudices and peculiarities would soon
be rubbed off by the rough towel of democracy.
It is curious to observe the remarkable diversity in the accounts given by recent emigrants to this country, of their
treatment, and of the manners and character of the people,
in the United States and in Canada. Some meet with constant kindness, others with nothing but rudeness and brutality. Of course there is truth in both accounts; but strangers
from an aristocratical country do not usually make sufficient
allowance for the habits and prejudices of a people of a land,
in which, from the comparatively equal distribution of property, and the certain prosperity attendant on industry, the
whole constitution of society is necessarily democratical, irrespectively of political institutions. Those who go to such a
country with the notion that they will carry every thing before
them by means of pretence and assumption, will find themselves grievously deceived. To use a homely illustration, it




THE LANjD-JOBB E.                191
is just as irrational to expect to force a large body through a
small aperture. In both cases they will meet with unyielding
resistance.
When a poor and industrious mechanic, farmer, or labourer comes here without pretensions of any kind, no such
complaints are to be heard. He is treated with respect, and
every one seems willing to help him forward. If in after years
the manners of such a settler should grow in importance with
his prosperity-which is rarely the case-his pretensions
would be much more readily tolerated than those of any unknown or untried individual in a higher class of society.
The North Americans generally are much more disposed
to value people according to the estimate they form of their
industry, and other qualities which more directly lead to the
acquisition of property, and to the benefit of the community,
than for their present and actual wealth. While they pay a
certain mock homage to a wealthy immigrant, when they have
a motive in doing so, they secretly are more inclined to look
on him as a well-fledged goose who has come to America to
be plucked. In truth, many of them are so dexterous in this
operation that the unfortunate victim is often stripped naked
before he is aware that he has lost a feather.
There seems to be a fatality attending riches imported into
Canada. They are sure to make to themselves wings and flee
away, while wealth is no less certain to adhere to the poor and
industrious settler. The great fault of the Canadian character is an unwillingness to admit the just claims of education
and talent, however unpretending, to some share of consideration. In this respect the Americans of the United States are
greatly superior to the Canadians, because they are better
educated and their country longer settled. These genuine
Republicans, when their theory of the original and natural
equality among them is once cheerfully admitted, are ever




192'O UGHINTVG IT IN THE BUSIt
ready to show respect to mental superiority, whether natural
or acquired.
My evenings on visiting C —  were usually spent at Mr.
S —'s tavern, where I was often much amused with the variety
of characters who were there assembled, and who, from the
free-and-easy familiarity of the colonial manners, had little
chance of concealing their peculiarities from an attentive ob.
server.
Mr. Q —, of course, was always to be found there, drinking, smoking cigars, and cracking jokes. To a casual observer
he appeared to be a regular boon companion, without an object but that of enjoying the passing hour. Among his numerous accomplishments, he had learnt a number of sleightof-hand tricks from the travelling conjurors who visit the
country, and are generally willing to sell their secrets singly,
at a regulated price. This seemed a curious investment for
Q —, but he knew how to turn every thing to account. By
such means he was enabled to contribute to the amusement
of the company, and thus became a kind of favourite. If he
could not manage to sell a lot of land to an immigrant or
speculator, he would carelessly propose to some of the company to have a game at whist or loo, to pass the time away;
and he never failed to conjure most of their money into his
pockets.
At this time a new character made his appearance at
C —, a Mr. B -, an English farmer of the true yeoman
breed. He was a short-legged, long-bodied, corpulent little
man. He wore a brown coat, with ample skirts, and a vast
expanse of vest, with drab-coloured small-clothes and gaiters.
B —    was a jolly, good-natured looking man, with an easy,
blunt manner which might easily pass for honesty.
Q —    had sold him a lot of wild land in some out-of-theway township, by making Mr. B — believe that he could




THE LAND-JOBBER.                193
sell it again very soon, with a handsome profit. Of course
his bargain was not a good one. He soon found from its
situation that the land was quite unsaleable, there being no
settlements in the neighbourhood. Instead of expressing any
resentment, he fairly acknowledged that Q —  was his master at a bargain, and gave him full credit for his address and
cunning, and quietly resolved in his own mind to profit by the
lesson he had received.
Now, with all their natural acuteness and habitual dexterity in such matters, the Canadians have one weak point; they
are too ready to believe that Englishmen are made of money.
All that an emigrant has to do to acquire the reputation of
having money, is to seem quite easy, and free from care or
anxiety for the future, and to maintain a certain degree of reserve in talking of his private affairs. Mr. B —  perfectly
understood how to play his cards with the land-jobber; and
his fat, jolly physiognomy, and rustic, provincial manners and
accent, greatly assisted him in the deception.
Every day Q — drove him out to look at different farms.
B-      talked carelessly of buying some "large" block of
land, that would cost him some ~3000 or ~4000, providing he
could only find the kind of soil he particularly liked for farming purposes. As he seemed to be in no hurry in making his
selection, Q — determined to make him useful, in the mean
time, in promoting his views with respect to others. He
therefore puffed Mr. B — up to every body as a Norfolk
farmer of large capital, and always appealed to him to confirm the character he gave of any farm he wished to sell to a
new comer. B —, on his side, was not slow in playing into
Q-'s hand on these occasions, and without being at all
suspected of collusion.
In the evening, Mr. B — would walk into the public room
of the tavern, apparently fatigued with his exertions through
9




194           RO GHING IT IT THE BUSH.
the day; fling himself carelessly on a sofa, and unbutton his
gaiters and the knees of his small-clothes. He took little
notice of any body unless he was spoken to, and his whole
demeanour seemed to say, as plainly as words, " I care for
nobody, nobody cares for me."  This was just the kind of
man for Q —. He instantly saw that he would be an invaluable ally and coadjutor, without seeming to be so. When
B —   made his first appearance in the evening, Q —  was
seldom at the tavern, for his time had not yet come. In the
mean while, B — was sure to be drawn gradually into conversation by some emigrants, who, seeing that he was a practical farmer, would be desirous of getting his opinion respecting certain farms which they thought of purchasing. There
was such an appearance of blunt simplicity of character about
him, that most of these inquirers thought he was forgetting
his own interests in telling them so much as he did. In the
course of conversation, he would mention several farms he had
been looking at with the intention of purchasing, and he would
particularly mention some one of them as possessing extraordinary advantages, but which had some one disadvantage which
rendered it ineligible for him; such as being too small, a circumstance which, in all probability, would recommend it to
another description of settler.
It is hard to say whether Q — was or was not deceived
by B —; but though he used him at present as a decoy, he
no doubt expected ultimately to sell him some of his farms,
with a very handsome profit. B —, however, whose means
were probably extremely small, fought shy of buying; and
after looking at a number of farms, he told Q — that, on
mature reflection, he thought he could employ his capital more
profitably by renting a number of farms, and working them
in the English manner, which he felt certain would answer
admirably in Canada, instead of sinking his capital at once in




THE LAND-JOBBEW                 195
the purchase of lands. Q — was fairly caught; and B —
hired some six or seven farms from him, which he worked for
some time, no doubt greatly to his own advantage, for he
neither paid rent nor wages.
Occasionally, other land-speculators would drop into the
tavern, when a curious game would be played between Qand them. One of the speculators would ask another if he did
not own some land in a particular part of the country, as he
had bought some lots in the same quarter, without seeing
them, and would like to know if they were good. The other
would answer in the affirmative, and pretend to desire to purchase the lots mentioned. The former, in his turn, would pretend reluctance, and make a similar offer of buying. All this
cunning maneuvring would be continued for a time, in the
hope of inducing some third party or stranger to make an
offer for the land, which would be accepted. It often happened
that some other person, who had hitherto taken no part in the
course of these conversations, and who appeared to have no
personal interest in the matter, would quietly inform the
stranger that he knew the land in question, and that it was all
of the very best quality.
It would be endless to describe all the little artifices practised by these speculators to induce persons to purchase from
them.
Besides a few of these unprincipled traders in land, some
of whom are found in most of the towns, there are a large
number of land-speculators who own both wild and improved
farms in all parts of the colony who do not descend to these
discreditable arts, but wait quietly until their lands become
valuable by the progress of improvement in their neighbourhood, when they readily find purchasers-or, rather, the purchasers find them out, and obtain their lands at reasonable
prices.




196           ROWG I U NG IT >i THE B USH.
In 1832, when we came to Canada, a great speculation was
carried on in the lands of the U. E. (or United Empire) Loyalists. The sons and daughters of these loyalists, who had
fled to Canada from the United States at the time of the revolutionary war, were entitled to free grants of lots of wild land.
Besides these, few free grants of land were made by the British Government, except those made to half-payofficers of the
army and navy, and of course there was a rapid rise in their
value.
Almost all the persons entitled to such grants had settled
in the eastern part of the Upper Province, and as the large
emigration which had commenced to Canada had chiefly
flowed into the more western parts of the colony, they were,
in general, ignorant of the increased value of their lands, and
were ready to sell them for a mere trifle. They were bought
by the speculators at from 2s. 6d. to 3s. 9d. per acre, and
often for much less, and were sold again, with an enormous
profit, at from 5s. to 20s., and sometimes even 40s. per acre,
according to their situation.
As to personally examining these lands, it was a thing
never thought of, for their price was so low that it was almost
impossible to lose by the purchase. The supply of U. E.
Loyalists' lands, or claims for land, for a long time seemed to
be almost inexhaustible; for the loyal refugees appear to have
been prolific beyond all precedent, and most of those who
held office at the capital of the province, or who could command a small capital, became speculators, and throve prodigiously. Many persons, during the early days of the colony,
were thus enriched, without risk or labour, from the inexhaustible " quivers" of the U. E. Loyalists.
Though the bulk of the speculators bought lands at haphazard, certain parties who found favour at the government
offices managed to secure the best lands which were for sale




THE LA.YD-JOBBER.               197
or location, before they were exposed to fair competition at
the periodical public sales in the different districts. Thus a
large portion of the wild lands in the colony were and are still
held: the absentee proprietors, profiting from the increased
value given to their property by the improvements of the
actual settlers, while they contribute little or nothing to the
cultivation of the country. The progress of the colony has
thus been retarded, and its best interests sacrificed, to gratify
the insatiable cupidity of a clique who boasted the exclusive
possession of all the loyalty in the country; and every independent man who dared to raise his voice against such abuses
was branded as a Republican.
Mr. Q — dealt largely in these " U. E. Rights," as they
were called, and so great was the emigration in 1832 that the
lands he bought at 2s. 6d. per acre he could readily sell again
to emigrants and Canadians at from 5s. to 15s. per acre, according to situation, and the description of purchasers he met with.
I have stated that the speculators generally buy lands at haphazard. By this I mean as to the quality of the lands. All
colonists accustomed to observe the progress of settlement,
and the local advantages which hasten improvement, acquire
a peculiar sagacity in such matters. Unfortunately for many
old countrymen, they are generally entirely destitute of this
kind of knowledge, which is only acquired by long observation
and experience in colonies.
The knowledge of the causes which promote the rapid settlement of a new country, and of those in general which lead
to the improvement of the physical condition of mankind, may
be compared to the knowledge of a language. The inhabitant
of a civilized and long-settled country may speak and write
his own language with the greatest purity; but very few ever
reflect on the amount of thought, metaphor, and ingenuity
which have been expended by their less civilized ancestors in




198          ROUGHING IT IN THE B US.
bringing that language to perfection. The barbarian first feels
the disadvantage of a limited means of communicating his
ideas, and with great labour and ingenuity devises the means,
from time to time, to remedy the imperfections of his language.
He is compelled to analyze and study it in its first elements,
and to augment the modes of expression in order to keep pace
with the increasing number of his wants and ideas.
A colony bears the same relation to an old-settled country
that a grammar does to a language. In a colony, society is
seen in its first elements, the country itself is in its rudest and
simplest form. The colonist knows them in this primitive
state, and watches their progress step by step. In this manner he acquires an intimate knowledge of the philosophy of
improvement, which is almost unattainable by an individual
who has lived from his childhood in a highly complex and
artificial state of society, where every thing around him was
formed and arranged long before he came into the world; he
sees the effects, the causes existed long before his time. His
place in society-his portion of the wealth of the countryhis prejudices-his religion itself, if he has any, are all more
or less hereditary. He is in some measure a mere machine,
or rather a part of one. He is a creature of education, rather
than of original thought.
The colonist has to create-he has to draw on his own
stock of ideas, and to rouse up all his latent energies to meet
all his wants in his new position. Thus his thinking principle
is strengthened, and he is more energetic. When a moderate
share of education is added to these advantages-for they are
advantages in one sense-he becomes a superior being.
I have indulged in these reflections, with manifest risk of
being thought somewhat prosy by my more lively readers, in
order to guard my countrymen, English, Scotch, and Irish,
against a kind of presumption which is exceedingly common




THE LALND-JOBBER.                199
among them when they come to Canada-of fancying that
they are as capable of forming correct opinions on local matters as the Canadians themselves. It is always somewhat
humbling to our self-love to be compelled to confess what
may be considered an error of judgment, but my desire to
guard future settlers against similar mistakes overpowers my
reluctance to own that I fell into the common error of many
of my countrymen, of purchasing wild land, on speculation,
with a very inadequate capital. This was one of the chief
causes of much suffering, in which for many years my family
became involved; but through which, supported by trust in
Providence, and the energy of a devoted partner, I continued
by her aid to struggle, until, when least expected, the light of
hope at length dawned upon us.
In reflecting on this error-for error and imprudence it
was, even though the result had been fortunate-I have still
this poor comfort, that there was not one in a hundred of persons similarly situated but fell into the same mistake, of
trusting too much to present appearances, without sufficient
experience in the country.
I had, as I have already stated, about ~300 when I arrived
in Canada. This sum was really advantageously invested in
a cleared farm, which possessed an intrinsic and not a merely
speculative value. Afterwards a small legacy of about ~700
fell into my hands, and had I contented myself with this farm,
and purchased two adjoining cleared farms, containing two
hundred acres of land of the finest quality which were sold
far below their value by the thriftless owners, I should have
done well, or at all events have invested my money profitably.
But the temptation to buy wild land at 5s. an acre, which
was expected to double in value in a few months, with the
example of many instances of similar speculation proving successful which came under my notice, proved irresistible.




200           RO UGHIHATG IT IT THE BUS'IL
In 1832 emigration was just at its height, and a great
number of emigrants, several of whom were of the higher
class, and possessed of considerable capital, were directed to
the town of C —, in the rear of which extensive tracts of
land were offered to settlers at the provincial government
sales. Had this extensive emigration continued, I should
have been enabled to double my capital, by selling my wild
lands to settlers; but, unfortunately, the prevalence of cholera
during that year, and other causes, gave such a serious check
to emigration to Canada that it has never been renewed to the
same extent since that time. Besides the chance of a check
to emigration generally, the influx of strangers is often extremely capricious in the direction it takes, flowing one year
into one particular locality, and afterwards into another.
Both these results, neither of which was foreseen by any one,
unfortunately for me, ensued just at that time. It seemed
natural that emigrants should flow into a fertile tract of land,
and emigration was confidently expected steadily to increase;
these were our anticipations, but neither of them was realized.
Were it suitable to the character of these sketches, I would
enter into the subject of emigration and the progress of improvement in Canada, respecting which my judgment has been
matured by experience and observation; but such considerations would be out of place in volumes like the present, and I
shall therefore proceed with my narrative.
I had obtained my cleared farm on easy terms, and, in so
far as the probability of procuring a comfortable subsistence
was concerned, we had no reason to complain; but comfort
and happiness do not depend entirely on a sufficiency of the
necessaries of life. Some of our neighbours were far from
being agreeable to us. Being fresh from England, it could
hardly be expected that we could at once accommodate our,
selves to the obtrusive familiarity of persons who had no con.




lHE LANDO-JOBBER.               201
ception of any differences in taste or manners arising from
education and habits acquired in a more refined state of
society. I allude more particularly to some rude and demoralized American farmers from the United States, who lived
in our immediate neighbourhood. Other neighbours from the
same country were worthy, industrious people; but, on the
whole, the evil greatly predominated over the good amongst
them.
At a few miles' distance from our farm, we had some intelligent English neighbours, of a higher class; but they were
always so busily occupied with their farming operations, that
they had little leisure or inclination for that sort of easy inter
course to which we had been accustomed. If we called in
the forenoon, we generally found our neighbour hard at work
in the fields, and his wife over head and ears in her domestic
occupations. We had to ring the bell repeatedly before we
could gain admittance, to allow her time to change her ordinary dress. Long before this could be effected, or we could
enter the door, sundry reconnoitring parties of the children
would peep at us round the corners of the house, and then
scamper off to make their reports.
It was strange that sensible people should not at once see
the necessity of accommodating their habits to their situation
and circumstances, and receive their friends without appearing to be ashamed of their employments. This absurdity,
however, is happily confined to the would-be-genteel people in
the country, who visit in the towns, and occasionally are ambitious enough to give large parties to the aristocracy of the
towns. The others, who do not pretend to vie with the townspeople in such follies, are a great deal more easy and natural
in their manners, and more truly independent and hospitable.
Now that we are better acquainted with the country, we
much prefer the conversation of the intelligent and unpre9*




202           RO UGHINGA IT N1 THE BiUSH.
tending class of farmers, who, though their education has been
limited, often possess a rich fund of strong common sense
and liberality of sentiment, and not unfrequently great observation and originality of mind. At the period I refer to, a
number of the American settlers from the United States, who
composed a considerable part of the population, regarded
British settlers with an intense feeling of dislike, and found a
pleasure in annoying and insulting them when any occasion
offered. They did not understand us, nor did we them, and
they generally mistook the reserve which is common with the
British towards strangers for pride and superciliousness.
" You Britishers are too superstitious," one of them told
me on a particular occasion.
It was some time before I found out what he meant by the
term " superstitious," and that it was generally used by them
for " supercilious."
New settlers of the lower classes were then in the habit of
imitating their rudeness and familiarity, which they mistook
for independence. To a certain extent, this feeling still exists
amongst the working class from Europe, but they have learnt
to keep it within prudent bounds for their own sakes; and the
higher class have learnt to moderate their pretensions, which
will not be tolerated here, where labourers are less dependent
on them for employment. The character of both classes, in
fact, has been altered very much for the better, and a better
and healthier feeling exists betweein them-much more so, in.
deed, than in England.
The labouring class come to this country, too often, with
the idea that the higher class are their tyrants and oppressors; and, with a feeling akin to revenge, they are often inclined to make their employers in Canada suffer in their turn.
This feeling is the effect of certain depressing causes, often remote and beyond the reach of legislation, but no less real on




THE LAND-JOBBER.                 203
that account; and just in proportion to the degree of poverty
and servility which exists among the labouring class in the
particular part of the United Kingdom from which they come,
will be the reaction here. When emigrants have been some
years settled in Canada, they find out their particular and just
position, as well as their duties and interests, and then they
begin to feel truly happy.
The fermentation arising from the strange mixture of discordant elements and feelings gradually subsides, but until
this takes place, the state of society is any thing but agreeable
or satisfactory.
Such was its state at C —, in 1832; and to us it was so
distasteful, that though averse, for various reasons, to commence a new settlement, we began to listen to the persuasions
of our friends, who were settled in the township of D —,
about forty miles from C —-, and who were naturally anxious to induce us to settle among them.
Mrs. Moodie's brother, S —, had recently formed a settlement in that township, and just before our arrival in Canada,
had been joined by an old brother-officer and countryman of
mine, Mr. T —-, whowas married to Mrs. Moodie's sister.
The latter, who, like myself, was a half-pay officer, had purchased a lot of wild land, close to the farm occupied by S.
Mr. S —   S-    had emigrated to Canada while quite a
youth, and was thoroughly acquainted with the backwoods,
and with the use of the felling-axe, which he wielded with all
the ease and dexterity of a native.
I had already paid some flying visits to the backwoods, and
found the state of society, though rude and rough, more congenial to our European tastes and habits; for several gentle.
men of liberal- education were settled in the neighbourhood,
among whom there was a constant interchange of visits and
good offices. All these gentlemen had recently arrived from




204           ROUGHINVG IT IN THEW BUSIL.
England, Ireland, or Scotland, and all the labouring class were
also fresh from the old country, and consequently very little
change had taken place in the manners or feelings of either
class. There we felt we could enjoy the society of those who
could sympathize with our tastes and prejudices, and who,
from inclination as well as necessity, were inclined to assist
each other in their farming operations.
There is no situation in which men feel more the necessity
of mutual assistance than in clearing land.
Alone, a man may fell the trees on a considerable extent
of woodland; but without the assistance of two or three others, he cannot pile up the logs previous to burning. Common
labourers. and common difficulties, as among comrades during
a campaign, produce a social unity of feeling among backwoodsmen. There is, moreover, a peculiar charm in the excitement of improving a wilderness for the benefit of children
and posterity; there is in it, also, that consciousness of usefulness which forms so essential an ingredient in true happiness. Every tree that falls beneath the axe opens a wider
prospect, and encourages the settler to persevere in his efforts
to attain independence.
Mr. S      had secured for me a portion of the military
grant of four hundred acres, which I was entitled to as a halfpay officer, in his immediate neighbourhood. Though this portion amounted to only sixty acres, it was so far advantageous
to me as being in a settled part of the country. I bought a
clergy reserve of two hundred acres, in the rear of the sixty
acres, for ~1 per acre, for which immediately afterwards I
was offered ~2 per acre, for at that period there was such an
influx of settlers into that locality that lands had risen rapidly
to a fictitious price. I had also purchased one hundred acres
more for ~1 10s. per acre, from a private individual; this
also was considered cheap at the time.




THE LAND-JOBBER.                205
These lots, forming altogether a compact farm of three
hundred and sixty acres, were situated on the sloping banks
of a beautiful lake, or, rather, expansion of the river Otonabee, about half-a-mile wide, and studded with woody islets.
From this lake I afterwards procured many a good meal for
my little family, when all other means of obtaining food had
failed us. I thus secured a tract of land which was amply
sufficient for the comfortable subsistence of a family, had
matters gone well with me.
It should be distinctly borne in mind by the reader, that
uncleared land in a remote situation from markets possesses,
properly speaking, no intrinsic value like cleared land, for a
great deal of labour or money must be expended before it
can be made to produce any thing to sell. My half pay,
which amounted to about ~100 per annum of Canadian currency, was sufficient to keep us supplied with food, and to pay
for clearing a certain extent of land, say ten acres every year,
for wheat, which is immediately afterwards sown with grassseeds to supply hay for the cattle during winter. Unfortunately, at this period, a great change took place in my circumstances, which it was impossible for the most prudent or cautious to have foreseen.
An intimation from the War-office appeared in all the
newspapers, calling on half-pay officers either to sell their
commissions or to hold themselves in readiness to join some
regiment. This was a hard alternative, as many of these officers were situated; for a great many of them had been
tempted to emigrate to Canada by the grants of land which
were offered them by government, and had expended all their
means in improving these grants, which were invariably given
to them in remote situations, where they were worse than
worthless to any class of settlers but those who could com



206           k OWLHIN-IAG IT LY THIE BSESR
mand sufficient labour in their own families to make the
necessary clearings and improvements.
Rather than sell my commission, I would at once have
made up my mind to join a regiment in any part of the
world; but, when I came to think of the matter, I recollected
that the expense of an outfit, and of removing my familyto say nothing of sacrificing my property in the colonywould render it utterly impossible for me to accept this unpleasant alternative, after being my own master for eighteen
years, and after effectually getting rid of all the habits which
render a military life attractive to a young man. Under
these circumstances, I too hastily determined to sell out of
the army. This, of course, was easily managed. I expected
to get about ~600 for my commission; and, before the transaction was concluded, I was inquiring anxiously for some
mode of investing the proceeds, so as to yield a yearly
income.
Unfortunately, as it turned out, I made a bargain with Mr.
Q —   for twenty-five shares, of ~25 each, in a fine steamer,
which had just been built at C -, and which was expected
to pay at least twenty-five per cent. to the shareholders.
This amount of stock Q-    offered me for the proceeds of
my commission, whatever amount it might be sold for; offering at the same time to return all he should receive above
~600 sterling. As I had nothing but his word for this part
of the agreement, he did not recollect it when he obtained
~700, which was ~100 more than I expected. Some boats
on Lake Ontario, while the great emigration lasted, and there
was less competition,Oyielded more than thirty per cent.; and
there seemed then no reason to doubt that the new boat
would be equally profitable.
It is possible that Q —  foresaw what actually happened;
or, more probably, he thought he could employ his money




THE LAND-JOBBER.                207
better in land speculations. As soon as the steamer began to
run, a quarrel took place between the shareholders who resided at C-, where she was built, and those who lived at
the capital of the Upper Province-York, as it was then called.
The consequence was that she remained idle a long time, and
at last she came under the entire control of the shareholders
at York, who managed the boat as they liked, and to suit
their own interests. Afterwards, though the boat continued
to be profitably employed, some how or other all her earnings
were consumed in repairs, &c., and for several years I never
received a penny for my shares. At last the steamer was
sold, and I only received about a fourth part of my original
stock. This, as may be supposed, was a bitter disappointment to me; for I had every reason to think that I had not
only invested my money well, but very profitably, judging
from the profits of the other boats on the lake. Had I received
the proceeds of my commission, and bought bank stock in the
colony-which then and still yields eight per cent.-my ~700
sterling, equal to ~840 currency, would have given me ~60
per annum, which, with my own labour, would have kept my
family tolerably well, have helped to pay servants, and have
saved us all much privation and harassing anxiety.
Having thus supplied the painful details of a transaction,
a knowledge of which was necessary to explain many circumstances in our situation, otherwise unintelligible, I shall proceed with my narrative.
The government did not carry out its intention with
respect to half-pay officers in the colonies; but many officers,
like myself, had already sold their commissions, under the
apprehension of being compelled to accept this hard alternative. I was suddenly thrown on my own resources, to
support a helpless and increasing family, without any regular
income. I had this consolation, however, under my misfor



208           ro UrGING iT IN I THE B USH.
tune, that I had acted from the best motives, and without the
most remote idea that I was risking the comfort and happiness
of those depending upon me. I found very soon, that I had
been too precipitate, as people often are in extraordinary positions; though, had the result been more fortunate, most
people would have commended my prudence and foresight.
We determined, however, to bear up manfully against our
ill-fortune, and trust to that Providence which never deserts
those who do not forget their own duties in trying circumstances.
It is curious how, on such occasions, some stray stanzas,
which hang about the outskirts of the memory, will suddenly
come to your aid. Thus, I often caught myself humming
over some of the verses of that excellent moral song, " The
Pilot," and repeating, with a peculiar emphasis, the concluding lines of each stanza,
" Fear not I but trust in Providence,
Wherever thou may'st be."
Such songs do good; and a peculiar blessing seems to attend
every composition, in prose or verse, which inculcates good
moral sentiments, or tends to strengthen our virtuous resolutions. This fine song, I feel assured, will live embalmed in
the memory of mankind long after the sickly, affected, and
unnatural ditties of its author have gone to their merited oblivion. Sometimes, however, in spite of my good resolutions,
when left alone, the dark clouds of despondency would close
around me, and I could not help contrasting the happy past
in our life with my gloomy anticipations of the future. Sleep,
which should bring comfort and refreshment, often only aggravated my painful regrets, by recalling scenes which had nearly
escaped my waking memory. In such a mood the following
verses were written:



OH, LET MAE SLEEP!                      20
OH, LET ME SLEEP!
Oh, let me sleep! nor wake to sadness
The heart that, sleeping, dreams of gladness;
For sleep is death, without the painThen wake me not to life again.
Oh, let me sleep! nor break the spell
That soothes the captive in his cell;
That bursts his chains, and sets him free,
To revel in his liberty.
Loved scenes, array'd in tenderest hue,
Now rise in beauty to my view;
And long-lost friends around me stand,
Or, smiling, grasp my willing hand.
Again I seek my island home;
Along the silent bays I roam,
Or, seated on the rocky shore,
I hear the angry surges roar.
And oh, how sweet the music seems
I've heard amid my blissful dreams!
But of the sadly pleasing strains,
Naught save the thrilling sense remains.
Those sounds so loved in scenes so dear,
Still-still they murmur in my ear:
But sleep alone can bless the sight
With forms that fade with morning's lig''t.
J. W. D. M.
Many versions have been given of the following song, and
it has been set to music in the States. I here give the
original copy, written whilst leaning on the open door of
my shanty, and watching for the return of my husband.




210             RuOcvAS Ia IT       THE BUSH.
THE SLEIGH-BELLS.'Tis merry to hear, at evening time,
By the blazing hearth the sleigh-bells chime;
To know the bounding steeds bring near
The loved one to our bosoms dear.
Ah, lightly we spring the fire to raise,
Till the rafters glow with the ruddy blaze;
Those merry sleigh-bells, our hearts keep time
Responsive to their fairy chime.
Ding-dong, ding-dong, o'er valley and hill,
Their welcome notes are trembling still.'Tis he, and blithely the gay bells sound,
As glides his sleigh o'er the frozen ground;
Hark! he has pass'd the dark pine wood,
He crosses now the ice-bound flood,
And hails the light at the open door
That tells his toilsome journey's o'er.
The merry sleigh-bells! My fond heart swells
And throbs to hear the welcome bells;
Ding-dong, ding-dong, o'er ice and snow,
A voice of gladness, on they go.
Our hut is small, and rude our cheer,
But love has spread the banquet here;
And childhood springs to be caress'd
By our beloved and welcome guest.
With a smiling brow, his tale he tells,
The urchins ring the merry sleigh-bells;
The merry sleigh-bells, with shout and song
They drag the noisy string along;
Ding-dong, ding-dong, the father's come,
The gay bells ring his welcome home.
From the cedar swamp the gaunt wolves howl,
From the oak loud whoops the felon owl;




THE SLEIIH-BELLS.                     211
The snow-storm sweeps in thunder past,
The forest creaks beneath the blast;
The more I list, with boding fear,
The sleigh-bells' distant chime to hear.
The merry sleigh-bells, with soothing power
Shed gladness on the evening hour.
Ding-dong, ding-dong, what rapture swells
The music of those joyous bells I
XND OF VOL. L