Chapter 47.
When my grandmother’s affairs were settled up it was found that in addition to the bonds which she had left to my sister and myself, there was $600 to come to each of us in three years’ time. Also she had left me what she had in the Savings Bank. She was a great one to save and a number of savings bank books were found amongst her things; one each for Dorothy and Christopher and one for my brother’s boy, Carew, one for me and I think one for my cousin Mary Boulton. In each of the children’s was about $10 and this they got with interest when they came of age. However, in her own account there was about $140 and these unexpected riches I determined to spend at once. First of all Jack should have a new winter overcoat, which he was badly in need of, and then I would buy for myself a sewing machine. I had a very poor hand one but with my increasing family I felt the need of a really good machine. After getting these things there was about $40 over, and I determined that it should be spent on a little holiday for us all.
We made a good many enquiries this time and were strongly recommended to go to a place called Chemong, on the lake of the same name. It was near Peterborough, so the journey did not cost much and the board was reasonable—only $5.00 a week. We started on a Monday afternoon, reached Peterborough in about an hour and then took the hotel bus to our destination six miles farther on. It was a pretty place but there was not much either to do or see, but we were not critical and managed to spend several very pleasant days there. Then Christopher had a return of his old enemy the low fever. We supposed it must be the water but did not know what to do about it. On Saturday morning Jack decided to go back to Port Hope for the day, as he had a young staff and did not like to be absent on the big market day. The son of the proprietor of the hotel volunteered to drive him in, and they started very early in the morning. When I came down to breakfast with my little flock, I noticed from the remarks I heard around me that something was wrong and at once went to ask. “Oh,” said my informant, “there was a little accident, but no harm done.” I felt sure he was deceiving me and waited anxiously for the afternoon bus to come in. Christopher was sick all day and the baby so cranky with his teeth he would go to nobody, though two nice little girls were very eager to take him out in his cart. When four o’clock came I was at the door, but instead of my gay young husband what looked like an old man was helped out of the bus and crawled into the house. He had been thrown out of the buggy with his companion and had had his ribs bent and one of his feet sprained. I got him to bed and from then until 10 p.m. worked over his foot with hot water, which had to be carried up two flights of stairs. On Sunday he was much better, but as Christopher was still poorly we decided to go on farther on Monday.
A boat called at a wharf on the lake every Monday—I forget which lake it was—and carried you up to the head of the Kawartha Lakes, where Lakefield was built. Mrs. Frazer had told us of a place called Buckhorn on Stoney Lake (I think) which was kept by an old servant of hers and where she thought we should be very comfortable. It was delicious on the lake and our sick boy began to pick up at once. Coming to Buckhorn, we remained long enough to go up and investigate the house and take a room; then the boat went on to Burleigh Falls. Here we fell in with a large Sunday school picnic from Port Hope and saw our next door neighbor, who told us mother had gone that day to Chemong to help me. Jack managed to telegraph her to meet us at Buckhorn, and again we resumed our course. The next stopping place was at a “lock” and we got out while the boat went slowly up it. On returning to the boat we found it had crossed to the other side and we had literally to walk a plank, or in other words the narrow board which divided one lock from the other. On one side lay the still water of the full lock, almost on a level with the board. On the other side there was the deep empty cavern from whence the water had flowed. I crossed first, leading Christopher. Jack followed with Somerville in his arms, intending to return for Dorothy. However, glancing round we saw her fearlessly crossing, her doll in her arms. All who saw her held their breath till the perilous passage was accomplished, but to Dorothy it was simply a matter of course.
We spent the night at Lakefield and returned next day to Buckhorn. It was a delightful place. A little river flowed into the lake close by the house and Jack rowed us up the river several times. My mother joined us on Wednesday and we all enjoyed our little visit there immensely. One day our hostess lent us a horse and buggy and we drove to a little lake called Sandy Lake. On this was built a boat house with a large room over it. We had the key and ate our little picnic there. A canoe was available and there was said to be good fishing, but I cannot remember catching anything. The thing which made the most impression on me was seeing Dorothy and Christopher alone in the canoe floating out towards the middle of the lake. Fortunately their father was a good swimmer and he soon recovered the truants. This was the first time we had seen a boat house and living room combined and it was this which gave us the idea of building our own boat house in Gordon Bay some twenty years afterwards. We returned home a day or two later, all feeling much better for the change.
I think it was on this trip that Somerville used to say: “Lookie, lookie la cow”, whenever he saw a beast or bird of any description. It was September when we returned and we soon settled down quietly for the winter. Just about that time there was a conference in Toronto, to which Mr. McMahon and I went. At that time electric cars were being installed in Toronto and the cars were in a terrible confusion. I stayed with Mrs. Job during the meetings. The Trigges were there also. Ethel the second girl had been married to Alick Sclater shortly before, but May and I think Dora were my companions at Mrs. Job’s. It was not a very comfortable meeting, for we all had to go to the city for our meals at the Y.W.C.A. I am afraid the subjects taken up in the meeting have altogether vanished from my memory, though no doubt they did good at the time. I brought home with me two white nice in a little cage for Dorothy and two guinea pigs for the boys, which were a source of great delight.
As soon as I was really settled down I began my Wednesday meeting, though I did not have the sewing meeting that winter. I had a nice little girl called Mable Embleton to look after Somerville, and she begged for her little brothers and sisters to come, so my class grew until I had fifteen or sixteen. I never invited any children but left it to the Lord to send whom He would.
During the winter we had a visit from Kathleen Checkley and I am almost sure Neen stayed with us too. My sister was busy every day teaching at Mrs. Covert’s. Mrs. Covert lived in a large house with beautiful grounds half way down the hill. She had one daughter, Birdie, but she had taken another little girl as companion to her child. She was the eldest daughter of an English Church missionary in Muskoka, Dagmar Chowne by name. She was about thirteen and a year older than Birdie. My sister taught these girls for several years and it was the beginning of a lifelong friendship between the family of the Chownes, ourselves and Mrs. Covert.
Shortly before Christmas our dear old friend Mrs. Reid passed away. I felt it a sore loss. She had been a kind friend to me for nearly twenty years, and some of the happiest hours of my life I spent sitting on a little stool at her feet by the blazing wood fire, hearing her tell stories of her young days. At other times I would read to her by the hour together, for her sight was very poor. Her daughter Annie was inconsolable, and though she lived for many years afterwards, she was never again the same bustling, active, cheerful soul.