by Sarah Ellis
“Let’s burn the house down!” said the equally plucky but mysterious Miss Weatherall.
“Dash it all!” said the glamorous and also mysterious Madame Weatherall. “I think that my brother Alf Jones has turned out to be a bit of a bounder!”
“Is there any more fruitcake?” Weatherall minor, the fat boy, enquired hopefully.
We started laughing so hard we started crying and the twins looked at us as though we were completely round the twist.
Later I thought of something. The twins won’t really remember England at all when they grow up. It will just be stories to them. William and I will carry little bits of England around in us forever but the little ones won’t. This made me feel quiet.
December 21
Planning Presents
Today is my day to make presents. For Mother and Dad I’m going to make a picture of the Ausonia at sea. For Harry a walnut-shell turtle. For Gladys a set of paper dolls. For William a pen-wiper.
Mother is doing secret knitting.
December 22
Present Plans Revised
I’m better with paper and glue than with sewing. The pen-wiper was horrid. I threw it away. Instead I’m going to make William a three-cornered bookmark, using an envelope. I think I’ll draw an octopus on it to remind him about deep-sea diving.
December 23
Cheering Up Gladys
Found Gladys crying today. She was worried that Father Christmas (the real one, not the one at the concert, she said) would not know that we have come to Canada. She cheered up when I told her that Father Christmas lives in Canada because that’s where the North Pole is. So he obviously knows all about Canada and especially about the Weatheralls in Milorie. (Is that true? Is the North Pole in Canada? I can’t ask Mr. Ambrose because he has gone away to his married son’s for a few weeks.)
The Gilmours have invited us for Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve.
December 25
Deep and Crisp and Even
It is now Christmas afternoon. I feel happy and also a kind of sad that is almost like happy.
Christmas dinner was lovely, with roast duck and a Christmas pudding that Mr. Gilmour lit on fire. We had crackers with mottoes and silly paper hats. My motto was “The longest way round may be the shortest way home.” After dinner we played charades. Mrs. Gilmour is very clever with charades. She was on our team and she made up a wonderful act for the word “pilgrim.” First she was “pill.” That was fairly easy. Then she was “grim,” which made everyone laugh a lot because she kept pulling these dreadful faces. Then we all dressed up as pilgrims with bathrobes and wooden poles as our staffs and went walking around the room.
This morning we opened our presents and stockings. My present from Auntie Lou was a book. It is called At the Back of the North Wind. I don’t want to start it too soon. I’m torturing myself by opening it and reading just one sentence on a page. Auntie Lou sent a book for William too. It is The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
My other presents were mitts and a box of watercolours. William got mitts and snowshoes. Gladys got mitts and a doll. Harry got mitts and a set of Tinkertoys. Now I know what Mother was mysteriously knitting!
Then we went to church. Even Dad came, and he hardly ever goes to church. It was carols and the Christmas story. I never thought before how the Christmas story is about travelling to a new place. Also, the holy land isn’t very much like Milorie but I did wonder if the stable with the manger was a bit like a sod hut.
Goose and crackers and the shepherds and oranges in our stockings. So many things are just the same about Christmas in Canada. It is making me sad for the things that are different, like no Auntie Lou and no Grandad.
William has gone off to try out his snowshoes. He has left a trail of dinted snow, just like in “Good King Wenceslas.”
Paint or read? Christmas cake or humbugs?
Decisions, decisions.
January 3, 1927
Back to School
1927. Not quite as good to write as 1926. I like writing 9’s and 6’s best. I will like it when it is 1996. But by then I will be ancient (I can’t be bothered to do the sum right now) and probably not keeping a diary.
Back to school. Nyla wore all new clothes, including a coat. She told us that she got a French ivory dresser set for Christmas that has a comb, brush, scissors, nail buffer, button hook and barrette. She also got three books. They are called Just Patty, Patty Goes to College and Bab: A Sub-Deb. She asked me what I got and I told her and she said, “Oh, practical presents.” She said this in her pretending-to-be-nice voice.
I don’t care though. The new year’s good news is that I have a job! Today after school Miss Hutchinson asked me if I would like the job of student janitor. This means coming to school early and lighting the stove. Ralph was doing it last term but he wasn’t very responsible. It pays two dollars a month! I’m going to be extremely responsible.
January 4
My Job
First day of my job. It was awfully cold and dark to get up so early but I said to myself, “To be up and doing is the maxim of a Canadian.”
I got to school one hour early. Here’s what I do: I clean the firebox by shaking all the ashes into the ashpan, which is under. Maybe I have to poke a bit with the poker. Then I put crumpled paper on the grate. Then I make a teepee of kindling wood. Then I get a match from the tin box in Miss Hutchinson’s desk and light it. When it gets going I put in some coal. That part is fun. The next part isn’t. I take the ashpan out. No matter how careful you are, the ashes fly into the air and make you cough. Then I take the ashes out to the ash heap behind the school. Then I sweep up around the stove. Then I collect up the ink bottles and put them on the stove to thaw.
By the time everyone came to school it was cozy. Miss Hutchinson commented on it. I feel like Catharine.
January 7
Shivers
Holy Moses! It suddenly got a lot colder. Went out this morning and it was like the cold wind went right into my brain. I wrapped my scarf around my face but breathing through it makes it wet and then it freezes and then there is a lump of ice-wool against your mouth. Also, my eyes watered and then the eyelashes froze together.
But still I got to school plenty early to light the stove and put the ink bottles on it to thaw. But it was so cold that the ink was still frozen at 9:30 so we had double the time of oral arithmetic drills and then we played The Grand Old Duke of York up and down the aisles to get warm. Even then Miss Hutchinson let us sit on our desks because the floor was so cold for our feet. But at least it was Friday so we had a story in the afternoon. Miss Hutchinson has started a new book. It is called Sowing Seeds in Danny. I like it because the main girl, Pearlie Watson, is twelve, and because the family lives in a boxcar and because they have twins, just like us. Also it is funny.
Dad got some work at the blacksmith’s shop. I went over after school and he was sharpening a ploughshare. I like it there because it is so warm. He let me turn the blower on the forge. The metal turned white with heat and then I had to stand clear whilst Dad put it on the anvil and hammered away. Sparks were flying everywhere. Sweat was running down Dad’s face. Then he lowered the tip of the ploughshare into the barrel of water and there was a huge hiss and steam.
Why is white hotter than red when frost and snow are white and fire and the sun are red? I could ask Dad but I think I’ll save this question for Mr. Ambrose when he gets back because questions make him so happy.
We’ve got a new guest. It is the Rawleigh man. He goes around the country selling house things like medicine and spices made by the W.T. Rawleigh Company. He sniffs. I guess he doesn’t have any medicine for sniffing. It was steak-and-kidney pie for dinner and he picked out all the kidney.
Tonight at supper everyone was talking about the cold. William said we should be grateful because at least there is absolutely no danger of malaria.
January 9
Bits and Pieces
Still very cold. Went to church this mor
ning. Mr. Quigley read the story about when Jesus was twelve years old he wandered off and his parents found him in the temple, talking to the priests. I thought of the twelve-year-old boys I know, but I don’t think Jesus was messy and loud like them. Maybe it isn’t even proper to wonder about that.
At the Back of the North Wind is about a very poor boy named Diamond. His father named him after a horse. This is a good idea. I would be happy to name a daughter Dot.
Harry has made the Eiffel Tower with his Tinkertoys. He put the walnut turtle on the top.
January 12
Accident
There wasn’t any school this afternoon. Abel cut his ear open on the swings at recess. Miss Hutchinson had to take care of him so we all got a half day off.
Abel was twirling, which is how it happened. Twirling is when you sit on the swing and twist around and around until the ropes are as tight as can be. Then you lie flat out and unwind. Twirling is forbidden but all the boys do it. But this time Abel was too close to the post and he bashed his ear on it. There was a lot of blood. Nyla screamed. Miss Hutchinson ran over and said for someone to get the first-aid kit. I did. Then she said for someone to go get Doc Johnstone and Florence did but Doc Johnstone was at a tonsils clinic in Stanton. So Miss Hutchinson tied on a bandage and then she took Abel to our house. Abel’s mother is dead and his father would be working so there was no point taking him out to his farm. Also, Miss Hutchinson knows that Mother was a midwife in England so she’s good with blood and accidents and that.
Miss Hutchinson and Mother looked at Abel’s ear and said he would need stitches. Doc Johnstone was supposed to be back after dinner. We scrubbed the kitchen table and moved it over next to the window. Then we soaked a sheet in carbolic and laid it on the table. Abel was being awfully brave. He looked pale and woozy but he still kept making little jokes.
Then Mother said it was my job to mind the twins and I was so cross. My whole life I’ve wanted to see stitches and here they were going to happen in my own house and I was supposed to miss it. So I was very bold. I took the twins upstairs and played with them until I heard Doc Johnstone arrive. Then I bribed them with the last of my Christmas humbugs and the promise that I would play cats and dogs with them tomorrow for as long as they wanted if they would be good and quiet.
When I got downstairs Abel was lying on the table and Doc Johnstone was fitting a mask over his face. Mother saw me creep in and she gave me a look but she didn’t say anything. Doc Johnstone instructed Mother to put a few drops of chloroform on the mask. Then Abel was to count backwards from twenty, but he only got to sixteen. Then his breathing got very slow. Doc Johnstone started stitching up his ear. It was very neat. He chatted. He said it was lucky that the ear cushioned the blow because Abel might have had a worse accident. Every so often he would tell Mother to put one more drop on the mask.
Then Abel stopped breathing. Mother and Doc Johnstone didn’t seem to notice. But I heard it stop. I didn’t know whether to speak up. But a voice just came out of me. Doc Johnstone whipped off the mask and started breathing into Abel’s mouth and pushing on his chest. Abel started breathing again but he was restless and Mother had to hold him down whilst Doc Johnstone did the last stitches.
Afterwards he thanked me and said that his hearing wasn’t what it used to be and that I was an alert girl.
When Abel woke up he started shivering, so Mother put him on the settee with lots of blankets, a hot water bottle and plenty of sweet tea. He will stay here tonight. Abel is always so jolly that I never thought before how sad it is that he doesn’t have a mother. I don’t think his father or brother would know about hot water bottles.
January 13
Mistake
Never make a rash promise to a six-year-old. Today I played cats and dogs with the twins for ages. Cats and dogs is the world’s most tedious game. The twins made it up. One runs around mewing and the other runs around barking. After hours of this my brain turned into a bowl of junket.
January 15
Lucky Leftovers
Mr. Burgess gave William the bottom of a big tin of peanut butter. It was a bit dried up and he couldn’t sell it. But if you mix it with syrup it is just fine. Mother and Dad don’t like peanut butter. They think it is too strange. And they don’t think it is proper food for the guests. Which is fine with me because I love it. On bread, toast and my finger. Almost as good as doughnuts and pumpkin pie.
January 17
Return of the Boarder
Mr. Ambrose is back from his son’s. I was so happy when I came in from school and found him in the sitting room. I’ll have to get into the way of thinking of questions again.
January 22
An Invitation
Today is Elizabeth’s birthday. I’m invited out to the farm for dinner and to stay overnight. Hans will come and collect me with the sleigh. I bought Elizabeth a tin of Cashmere Bouquet face powder with my own money, from my job. I hope we get to listen to the radio.
January 23
Turning Twelve
We got to the Mullers’ just in time for milking. It was already dark. I went out to the barn with Mrs. Muller and Elizabeth. I carried the lamp. The lamplight made long shadows across the snow in the yard. I can still remember how to milk. It was quiet in the barn. It felt like there was nothing else in the world. The kittens have grown up.
Then it was time for dinner. If I were the Duchess of Milorie or some other grand person I would eat Mrs. Muller’s fried chicken every day of my life. Also chocolate cake.
After dinner we did listen to the radio. Then we went to bed and played corners. I think Elizabeth invented this game. You name each corner of the room with a boy’s name. Then when you wake up in the morning the corner you are looking at is who you will marry. I used my four favourite names – Raymond, Edward, Stanley and Derek. When I woke up I was staring at Derek! Elizabeth was staring at Eugene. I don’t know any Dereks. Elizabeth doesn’t know any Eugenes. Somewhere they are growing up, waiting to meet us.
Now I’m home. Mother is grumpy. She wants me to peel potatoes. The Mullers have pictures on their walls. We don’t. I wish I lived at the Mullers’.
Later
I take it back. I’m sitting in the kitchen and I can hear Dad getting the twins ready for bed. He’s saying the poem he always used to say to me. He says it in a funny gloomy voice and lets you say the last word of each line.
Nothing to do but work
Nothing to eat but food
Nothing to wear but clothes
To keep you from going nude.
The twins have just yelled out “NUDE!” and now it sounds like Dad is chasing them around the room. I would rather have my Dad and no pictures or fried chicken than Elizabeth’s stern father.
Wonder what Derek is like.
February 9
Indisposed
The reason that I haven’t written in so long is that I have been sick. Last week on Tuesday I got really wet on my way home from school because of a snowball fight. The next morning I felt like I had thistles in my throat. Then I started coughing and coughing. Mother gave me hot lemon and honey to drink and put goose grease on my chest and a piece of camphor to wear around my neck, but nothing helped.
For days and days I just lay in bed and I didn’t care about eating anything and I didn’t even want to sit up to write. Sometimes I was very hot and once I thought the end of the bed was jumping up and down like laundry blowing in the wind. One night my ears hurt so much, like a hot knitting needle poking down my ear into my throat, that I couldn’t stop crying. Dad lit his pipe and blew warm smoke into my ears. It helped some. Elizabeth brought me a new book but it hurt my eyes too much to read.
Today I feel better. Sort of floaty and I still can’t go out to the outhouse, but I’m a bit hungry and I might start reading the book. Tired now.
February 10
Tiny Ivy
I would like to know what is going on when a person is sick. I would like to shrink and go in a tiny car down
my throat and just have a look at what’s making it so thistly and into the part that starts the coughing. Mother says the next time Doc Johnstone has a tonsils clinic I must go and have mine out.
February 11
Injustice
Last night I had a fight with Harry. He used my paints without asking and left the tops off three of the tubes and they dried up. I yelled at him and then I got in trouble because Mother said I was making noise and disturbing the guests. She didn’t even want to hear my side of the story. Just because Harry is little he gets away with everything. He is spoiled.
Mother said if I was well enough to raise a ruckus I was well enough to go back to school. I was glad I went back today because we made valentines. Miss Hutchinson gave us some lovely red paper. Elizabeth taught me how to make paper lace. It is like making snowflakes. Miss Hutchinson put some poems on the blackboard for the little ones to copy. Abel was laughing to himself so I have an idea that he is making up his own. The big boys didn’t want to do it but Miss Hutchinson was stern. Then we decorated a big box to put the valentines in. Everybody made one for everybody so the box is very full.
Miss Hutchinson did my janitor job for me whilst I was sick. She said she was glad I was back because she was “fed up to the eye teeth with ashes.” What are eye teeth? Question for Mr. Ambrose.
February 14
Hearts
Valentine’s Day. We had games and cookies at school and almost no lessons. Abel’s card for me said:
