Back to Ontario

After Christmas, we decided if I had to go away, I would go to Ontario, to Strathroy and the Bonds. Mrs. Oldham kept house; her husband worked for George and Aunt Beckie kept Irma for quite some time. Then, one day George, Mrs. Oldham and I went to Regina and George bought me a Grey Persian lamb coat, cap and gauntlets. We got them at the Glasgow House. I remember I wanted a beautiful brown cloth coat - fur lined and oh, it was lovely and fitted me so well and looked so beautiful. It was $85.00. George thought it was too much, so we decided on the Grey Lamb, which was $65.00. George afterwards bought himself a fur-lined coat for $80.00, but that was different. Anyway (Oh, well) my Grey Persian lamb outfit was quite a sensation in little old Strathroy.

Just before my train pulled in to the station, George brought a fairly old man and introduced him to me. This man was going as far as Toronto and George asked him to look after me on the way down. He was a nice old man, not so very old either. His name was Mac(something). I have forgotten what. Well, when the train pulled in, for two cents I would have backed out and gone home with George and Mrs. Oldham. A funny sensation, isn’t it? One wants to go, yet something seems to pull one back.

At last, good-byes were said, and I was off on an 1800-mile trip all on my own. This old man sat by me quite a while and then said, "I am going to bring a friend who I think will be a better companion for you than an old man like me." I assured him I enjoyed his company very much. However, he went away and returned with a young man whose name was McCleod. Both these men came from farther north than where we lived, and both were going to Toronto, but taking another route from there.

Then Mr. McCleod brought a couple of friends of his along and introduced them. One was a commercial traveler, the other a Mr. McClain. The traveler was a "Mac" too. I believe his name was McLellan. The day we got into Winnipeg, these men insisted I go to a hotel with them and have breakfast, which I did, al-though George insisted I would take my eats along, as all tourists did. Mrs. Oldham had made me a meat pie and packed in several other nice things to eat. We had breakfast and lunch at the CPR hotel in Winnipeg. The CPR at that time owned the railway line, which afterwards was sold to the CNR. These men, my travelling companions, even got me a room where I could lie down and rest. They surely were nice to me.

About five in the evening, we boarded the train again. It was so cold! Everything covered with snow. The old engine looked like a miniature mountain. So covered with snow and ice, it was. At Winnipeg, there was a young lady took the train for Wingham, Ont. She, too, was going as far as Toronto then from there in the morning would take a train to Winnipeg. I got to know her quite well; she was a lovely girl and was going to be married shortly to a man in Wingham. She had been working in Winnipeg.

Well, we were quite a jolly party; six of us and each had the prefix "Mc" or "Mac" to our names. The next morning after we left Winnipeg, I opened my grip which contained my travelling eatables, and found them steaming hot! The meat pie smelled to high heaven. Someone had taken my grip down from the rack and set it beside the hot water pipes, or hot air pipes, and was my lunch a mess. The men wanted to know what I ever brought a lunch for anyway! The commercial traveler picked up the grip and said, "Come on." I came and he stood on the platform and threw all the eats out into the snow. The bunch saw I had plenty of good eats all the way down.

I do not remember how long we were on the trip but it must have been four or five days anyway. Some of the men were good singers and one played the harmonica. The commercial traveler taught me to play blackjack but I forgot all about it in no time.

We all separated in Toronto; that is, all but Miss McDougal, the girl from Winnipeg, Mr. McClain and myself. We stayed overnight in Toronto. In the morning, Miss McDougal took her train to Wingham. Mr. McClain and I saw her off. Then Mr. McClain took me to my train. Really, I felt lost when each of us had gone our respective way. We had spent the best part of a week together with not a dull moment; but that is the way of life.

Aunt Jane, George’s aunt by marriage, and by the way, a McNeice, though I do not recall which McNeice she had married, but he long since had died, met me at the train. She had only one son and no daughters. Her son’s name was Albert. He was married but spent a great deal of his time with his mother. Aunt Jane made good pies; at the time she was boarding two boys about the ages of 12 and 14, who were going to school in Strathroy. George had me so scared of Albert. I was scared still to be left alone with him one minute. But there was nothing wrong with Albert. He was a lot of fun. George told me so many things about him, which I afterwards discredited, but at the time made me afraid.

The first morning, Albert came over to Aunt Jane’s and said if I would give him the check for my trunk, he would bring it up from the station for me. I gave him the check but actually wouldn’t have been much surprised if I had bid good-bye to my trunk and Albert too, so scared of trusting Albert was I. He came back presently with my trunk, and I was ashamed of myself.

I believe Aunt Jane had a daughter, Beckie; if not a daughter, a niece, who was going to school in London. Aunt Jane was reported to have a sweetheart, who lived across the street from her. If so, she was very discreet about it all. The neighbor men used to tease her about her squeaky gate, and tell her to get her sweetheart to buy some oil and lubricate the hinges!

While I was at Aunt Jane’s I bought some black serge and some cream satin for a yoke and had a nice dress made. There were twenty-one gores in the skirt. Some girl, who Aunt Jane knew, made it for me. She was two or three days making it and charged only two-and-a-half dollars for her work.

I stayed with Aunt Jane for a while, then went out to Uncle James Brown’s about two or three miles out in the country. This James Brown was the grandfather of Ira Brown who married Myra McNeice, Uncle Joe’s second eldest daughter. I felt rather lost there, especially on Sunday. We went to church in the morning, but Uncle and Aunt slept most of the afternoon and all there was in the house to read were two leaves of an ancient Sunday School paper. Uncle and Aunt were lovely people. Uncle James had spent one harvest with us on the farm; he came out to Saskatchewan on a harvest excursion. The CPR used to run harvest excursions in harvest time to the prairies and tourist excursions east for the farmers and anyone who wished to travel east in the winter. Each ticket, or tickets either way or both ways were good for three months.

The time Uncle James came out to our place I was sitting in the corral milking the cows. The men were away threshing and would not be home until quite late. All at once I saw this man standing by the corral fence. My heart stood still! I was so terribly afraid of a stranger, I just about fainted. He asked me if George McNeice was home, and I said, "No, not just now," and asked him if he knew George. He said, "I ought to, I’m his Uncle James." Everything was all right then. George had told me how grand his Uncle James and Aunt Josephine was that I felt he was a long lost friend. He stayed a couple of months with us and we loved him.

While I was at their place, their son, Ed and his wife and their son, Tra went out to either Calgary or Lethbridge. No, Ed’s wife remained with Aunt Josephine, Uncle James’ wife. Ed’s wife was expecting the stork and everyone thought she should stay with Ed’s parents until the event had transpired and she was strong enough to travel and also until Ed had located out there. I believe he located near Lethbridge.

When Minnie, Ed’s wife, was packing his grip, she showed Ed a little two-ounce bottle of brandy, which she slipped in his grip in case he should get train sick. Ed gave me the wink. Guess he could manage that much without trouble and more besides, though his wife didn’t know it. Funny, how sometimes a wife doesn’t know as much about her husband’s failings as does his neighbor.

One day we drove out to their daughter’s place. I forget whom Annie married — some farmer. Uncle Joe felt pretty sick when he got a letter from Annie saying she was married. They had been very fond of each other and, if I can add two and two and make four, Joe was in love with her.

Well, then I went back to Aunt Jane’s for a while and while there had a lot of dental work in Strathroy. One Sunday night Aunt Jane and I went to a revival meeting in one of the churches. The minister was shouting hell and damnation on everyone who went to dances; he was quite a sensation. The Glory Song was being sung almost to death that winter. It is pretty.

Then one day I went out to the Bonds, after I had finished getting my teeth all fixed up. The novocaine had upset my stomach and I had quite a siege with indigestion. I quickly bought some Gude’s Pepto-mangan and was better very soon. This medicine is what Dr. Anderson had me take when I was recovering from my long illness on the farm. I forgot to mention in this illness the doctor had told George that I never would recover and the news had spread abroad through the neighborhood that I was expected to depart this life at any moment. All this, I learned after I recovered. Ev got mad at George at the time and she transferred her affections to Uncle Joe and went home with him one day and stayed with him for months. His wife and baby had died in the spring of that year. George was disgusted with both of them. They had come down to our place one night, or evening, and had supper at our place, and after supper, while George was out at the barn doing up the chores, Joe asked me if we would let Tommy go home with them and live with them. He previously had asked George to give him Tommy. Of course, George had refused. I also refused to let Tommy go home with them. When George came in, I told him what Joe wanted, and he said "No" very emphatically. Joe was displeased, but after they had gone home, George said, "All they wanted Tommy for was a blind," and he wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Joe was sore about it for a long time.

On in the next summer, Ev got mad at Joe and went down to Lumsden to Aunt Lizzie’s. She grew very despondent and queer, like her father (the old bald man who wanted Walter his son, to go to Watford and buy him a fine comb for his hair, which was minus entirely). Aunt Lizzie was scared still of Ev and was glad when Ev’s brother sent her money for her fare home to Ontario. She was a strange girl.

Well, I have digressed, once more, but things keep coming back to me as I write. I was rather glad to go back to the Bonds; they were so lovely and always made one feel so at home.

I had been down in Ontario about one month when I went in to Strathroy with Mr. Bond one morning and went to the Post Office expecting a letter from George. The postmistress aid said, "There was a gentleman in this morning who asked for your mail and I gave what there was to him." I was flabbergasted, couldn’t imagine who the gentleman was. She said he wore a fur-lined coat.

The mystery thickened. Well, I went out and decided whoever it was would probably make him known sooner or later. Had been strolling around only a few minutes when I came face to face with George. I was astounded! Because, when

I left home to start on my trip he had said he was so short of money and my trip and clothes had cost so much, that he couldn’t afford anything for himself. I felt like a fugitive from a chain gang when he would talk like that. Cheery way to send one’s wife on a trip for her health!!! Eh, what!

And, here he was! Fur-lined coat and all! He had left a hired man to look after the stock and left the children with Mrs. Oldham, the housekeeper and taken the train for Ontario. Looked like he was poverty stricken, didn’t it?

We both went to visit Aunt Jane and some other friends. While at Aunt Jane’s, I persuaded George, after some strong arguments, to take me to the Lyceum Theater. It was a vaudeville show and considered quite risqué. The girls were dressed in tights and did plenty of tall kicking and sang some rowdy songs. In comparison to the way girls on the stage dress now, these girls were fully clothed. Such is life. All the men got quite a kick out of the show. We also went to see McEqen, the great hypnotist; he was real good.

Then, as time for our return home came, another great argument. My ticket allowed for stopovers along the way home. George’s didn’t. I wanted to stop over at Port Arthur and go out to Kekebeka Falls to see my sister, Ettie, who was married and living there. George didn’t want me to. He wanted to go straight home, but I knew if I didn’t see her on our way home, it might be years before I would have an opportunity to see her, so we argued the matter over and got nowhere. Finally, we decided to quit arguing and let matters take their course. Then George decided we would go to Buffalo before we went home; so away we went to Buffalo, taking Edna Bond with us. She was a very pretty girl and lots of fun. George got her a room near ours. He would go out after breakfast and Edna and I would chat in my room. When we first went to our room there was a big placard in the window with "Rooms for Rent" painted on it in big black letters. It was still there the next morning and, when George went out, Edna and I were standing in the window, struggling to get the placard down, when we noticed that our window faced the windows in a college across the street. The windows in this building must have been in a dormitory - two windows — and were filled with young men, all waving and throwing kisses to us. We, of course, reciprocated, devils that we were. So, every few hours this pantomime proceeded to transpire. Well, this continued for about a week, then one day we took our place for the usual play, and the boys were there doing their stunt, and we, all set for the return compliment, when Edna said, "Wait, look down there at that man sitting on the bench. I looked. Oh, me! There was George sitting on a bench watching our window!! Evidently he had gotten wise to our little game. There was really no harm in it at all. We put the placard back in the window and waved good-bye to the boys.

Well, the next day we started back for Strathroy, and the Bonds. Then in a few days left for the prairies and home. The snow was beginning to go in places and the roads were bad. We got out home by livery and our holiday was over. Before George left for Ontario, he had brought Irma home from Aunt Becky’s and Mrs. Oldham had taken care of them all. The children were so happy to have me home again, and I to be home with them.

But, again, I shall have to go back to our trip home and tell how we settled our argument. We still hadn’t settled it when we boarded the train at Strathroy for home; but Mrs. Bond said, "I’ll bet you win, Mrs. McNeice." Well, I did. Every once in a while the subject came up while we were en route to Port Arthur. I kept telling George we would get off the train at the junction east of Port Arthur, go out to Kekebeka, then when returning we would take the train at Port Arthur, and the conductor there would be a different man to the one whom we traveled with from Strathroy to this junction where we took the train out to Kekebeka and probably would not noticed that he had stopped over. Other people at Bonds told him the same thing too, but he wouldn’t listen. No, he was going straight through to Regina and I was going with him.

Well, the nearer we came to the place where we changed for Kekebeka, the stronger his arguments became. However, when the brakeman came through calling the name of this station, I rose and started putting on my hat and coat and George said, "If you will come on home now, you can come down in the summer for a visit with Ettie." I knew how that would be; if I went on home now, I’d never get back for a visit; and anyway, I wasn’t going to live on promises. I had done enough of that and knew full well if I gave in now; this promise of a return trip in the summer would fizzle out as so many other previous promises had.

I continued my preparations for leaving the train, and when it stopped at the station, I picked up my suitcase, then George jumped up, grabbed his coat and hat, got into his coat, grabbed up his suitcase and out he went. There was a traveler going out to Kekebeka and was sitting just across the aisle from us and when I started out he gave me a big wink. Evidently he had overheard our discussion and was amused to see I had carried my point.

We arrived at Aunt Ettie’s about noon and, of course, had a good time. Seems to me the name of the town was Schreiber, or else that was where we changed trains to go out there. While there, Uncle Charlie fixed me up with his trousers and shoes and putties which he had worn in the South African campaign some years previous and took me through the snow to see Kekebeka Falls. They were as deep as Niagara but of course much narrower and very much less volume of water, but very, very tremendous and magnificent. One night at Ettie’s we were sitting playing cards when we were startled by the sound of a bell slowly tolling, tolling, tolling mournfully. We stopped playing and listened. Ettie and Charles knew what it was; George and I didn’t. Ettie said it’s a funeral, and was quite upset. It was such a mournful sound in the night. We went outside and found there was a funeral procession winding its way slowly down the mountainside. It was a company of the Black Watch bearing the casket to its place in the cemetery. They had their bagpipes, weirdly wailing and members of their clan bearing torches, and all the while the church bell slowly tolling.

Some poor soul was being carried to his last resting place, a place so lonely and probably far from his loved ones. Away down the mountainside; and though the night was dark one could see the blur of trees covered with snow against the darker background of the mountains.

There were men from many parts of Ontario in this district working at putting a power line, I believe, through to Fort William. I believe Ettie said it was a power line, and this man who was being laid to rest by the Black Watch had been killed on the job. The sight of this funeral procession stayed with me for many days; in fact, just now as I write I still have that sinking feeling that overcame me as I watched that night so long ago, a funeral procession winding its way down that lonely mountainside.

I never did like the mountains anyway. A friend of Uncle Charlie drove up to Port Arthur, from where we took the train home to our town of Lumsden, Saskatchewan, and back once more to the prairies.

Something else I have forgotten to relate and will do so now, though I should have done so a while back.

Anyone who has ever traveled in those old CPR coaches in the wintertime can remember how smelly they became in the night. Windows closed, heat on, and the smell of many unwashed bodies stagnating the air. When one looks at the trains of today, especially in these United States, one can’t help but compare them to the tourist trains in Canada, back in the years of the 1880’s and even later. This period, though, must have been around 1905 and by this time the coaches were much improved, but many of the tourist passengers to be minus a bath for ages.

Father Sinnot from Regina was in our coach and at some little station along the way he left us, probably to officiate at some affair or to visit friends. Just as he left the train, a group of new passengers boarded our train.

Coming in from the cold, fresh air, the atmosphere in the coach offended their nostrils. Someone said, "Phew! What have they got in here, a corpse?" And a little boy piped up, "No, sir, there ain’t no corpse in here, but we had an old priest in here for a long time; he just got off the train."

Go to Contents, Next or Index