Days of Toil and Tears

by Sarah Ellis

  At this wedding everyone was opposite. The bride was Murdo’s father, the bridesmaid was Uncle James, the groom was Mrs. Easton, who is a tiny woman from the weaving room. She had a top hat that was so big that it kept falling right down over her eyes and resting on her nose. All the women were dressed as men and all the men as women.

  The other opposite thing was that all the young people pretended to be old. One of the sweepers, Willie, had a pillow tucked into his shirt and a make-believe pocket watch and he was pretending to be the mill owner. And then they asked me to be the minister and marry the couple! I put on a dark jacket and a piece of white paper around my neck for a clerical collar. The bride and groom walked up the aisle while somebody played a mouth organ.

  At first I was bashful because I didn’t know what words to say. I have never been to a wedding. But I didn’t really have to say anything because everyone kept calling out things that the groom had to promise. They made him promise to wash all the dishes and cook all the meals and change the baby’s nappies! Mrs. Easton has a very big voice for a very small woman and she kept promising everything and then all the women cheered and all the men groaned. Then I had to say (Auntie Janet whispered it to me), “I pronounce you man and wife,” and then Mrs. Easton kissed Murdo’s father (through the veil) and then everybody cheered and threw bits of cut-up paper for confetti.

  Then a large box was presented to the married couple. It was tied up with ribbon. As they were opening it Agnes kept saying things like, “Oh, I do wonder if it is going to be a silver teapot?” and “Do you think it is a cut-crystal rose bowl?” Well, it was a chamber pot! Then everyone went back to being themselves and went back to work. Men as men, women as women, Flora as Flora.

  July 24

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  At church today I had a funny thought. As Rev. Parfitt was taking the service I felt as though I could do it. Even though the mock wedding yesterday was all a joke, a play got up for fun, I still felt as though I had been a real minister for a minute or two. It made me think how grand that would be, to help people out in their troubles and to share in their joys, to stand up in front of everyone and proclaim a blessing over them.

  July 25

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Two exciting things to write about today. The first is that Mungo has moved in. The Campbells are keeping the grey kitten and Mrs. Campbell has found homes for the two tabbies. As to the question of what to do with Smokey, Mrs. Campbell says we will just take her back to the mill. Auntie Janet asked what about Mr. Haskin and Mrs. Campbell looked fierce and said, “Leave that Mr. Haskin to me.” Mungo settled right into my snug. He likes to ride on my shoulder and lick my nose.

  The second exciting things is that we can go to the circus after all! On Saturday Mr. Flanagan will close the mill one hour early so that we can all go. Why isn’t it Saturday today! Thank goodness for sleeping when you don’t have to wait for time to pass.

  July 26

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Murdo told me a very sad story. A few years ago an elephant named Jumbo broke away from the circus and ran across the railway track just as a train was coming and he was killed. The circus people and animals must have felt that they lost a friend. I wonder if there will be elephants at this circus.

  Smokey is back at the mill, in the spinning room. Mr. Haskin must have noticed her, but he is pretending that he hasn’t.

  July 27

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Bad news about the circus. Murdo cannot go, as the Campbells cannot manage the admission. I asked Auntie Janet if we could pay for Murdo and she said that she had already offered, but Murdo refused, because of pride. Also, would Murdo want to go if his parents and Kathleen and his middle brother Percy could not go as well? (The others are too small to care about a circus.) She is right. He wouldn’t.

  July 28

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  The best thing has happened. Last night when we were walking home from the mill, Murdo found a shiny fifty-cent piece on the path. Now the Campbells can go to the circus! Auntie and Uncle were so happy. “Pays to watch your feet,” said Uncle.

  A little later

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  I just figured something out, I think. I was thinking again about the luck of Murdo finding a fifty-cent piece and then I remembered that just before he found it, Uncle (who was walking ahead of us) stopped to tie his boots. I think he left the coin for Murdo to find. I cannot be sure, but it would be like him. He knows how to be kind and still let somebody be proud.

  July 30

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Circus day. I think there is more to remember in this day than any day of my life so far.

  It all started when the circus train arrived very early in the morning. I got up and dressed at the crack of dawn and collected Murdo and we were at the station to see it arrive. It was more than twenty cars long, all very clean and shipshape. I remembered my train trip to Almonte. Oh, I would love to live in a train, click-clacking through the night, waking up in a new place every day.

  First they unloaded the tents and we followed the circus people over to the Agricultural Grounds to see them unpack them and put them up. But then somebody said, “Here come the elephants!” so we raced back to the train in time to see a line of elephants walking down a ramp. I have never seen such a sight. Six altogether. They are bigger in real life than they look on the poster. They look gentle, for something so big. Murdo says I would change my mind on that if I was in the path of a herd of them thundering through the jungle toward me. “You would need an elephant gun,” he said. Why are boys so horrid, always thinking about killing things?

  As the elephants started to walk, in a long line, the dust rose up from their huge feet and the morning sun was shining through the dust and it was like a scene from a magic land. A mean circus man tried to shoo us away, but Murdo and I know all the places to hide around the station so we got to see it all. Then we had to run like billy-oh to be at work on time. The hours from seven to eleven crept by so slowly. Bobbins have never been so tiresome.

  When the bell rang we scooted back to the Agricultural Grounds. The tents were already up, making a town right there by the river. Beautiful red-and-white striped tents with flags and banners flying. By then there were many more people around and more mean circus men and they got a fence built in a big hurry. So that was it for the morning, but we had the show to look forward to.

  To describe the circus show would take a whole pencil right down to a nub and another day’s holiday. There was a huge crowd. I think everyone from Almonte was there and lots of country people as well. We sat right behind the Campbells. Percy was so excited that he kept jumping up and Mr. Campbell kept pushing him down like a jack-in-the-box.

  I will just tell you about my favourite act: Charles Fish, Hero Horseman of the Universe. I got the feeling it was going to be amazing when Mr. Fish got on the horse by running toward it and jumping up on its back, landing squarely on his two feet. Then the horse started to run in a circle around the ring and Mr. Fish just stayed there, bareback, nothing to hold onto, looking as ordinary as someone standing on a street corner. That was amazing enough, but then he started to do somersaults, backwards and forwards. Then he stood on one foot and spun around, like a top. Then two fancy circus ladies came out and stood on stools, holding up a big paper disc. Mr. Fish stood on the horse, the horse ran toward the disc and under it while Mr. Fish did a dive through the disc and then a somersault in the air and landed on the horse’s back again. There was a little pause while everyone was thinking, “Did I just see that?” and then everybody started to stamp and clap and whistle. So then the fancy circus ladies got another disc and he did the same thing, but backwards!

  The elephants did a ballet. Most people laughed, but it didn’t strike me that way. I just got this feeling of amazement that there should be such creatures on earth. The clowns pretended to be firefighters and rescued a very fat lady (really a clown with padding) from
a burning building. They tried to make her jump into a blanket that they were holding by the edges, but she wouldn’t so then they got ladders, but the ladders kept collapsing and Uncle James laughed so hard he snorted through his nose. There were lions, miniature horses, high-wire acrobats and minstrels, but I cannot describe them all.

  As we walked home Murdo said that he wanted to run away with the circus when they left Almonte. And then we decided that we would all like to run away. Uncle James wants to be an elephant trainer. Auntie Janet said she wants to be a clown. I’d like to learn to be a bareback equestrian and Murdo can’t decide between an acrobat, the trumpet-playing minstrel or the man at the door who collects all the money.

  July 31

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  On the way to church we saw the circus people taking down the circus tent. It rained in the night and the ground was muddy. The people looked ordinary and a bit grubby. No sign of the elephants. But still, all day I kept thinking about going away on the train with them all, chugging along to the next town. But of course I would have to take Auntie and Uncle, and Murdo and Mungo, and Murdo would have to take his family, and soon the whole town of Almonte would be moving! But we wouldn’t let Mr. Haskin come.

  August 1887

  August 1

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  It was tedious at the mill today. Endless toil and endeavour. I memorized the next bit of “The Day is Done”:

  Read from some humbler poet,

  Whose songs gushed from his heart,

  As showers from the clouds of summer,

  Or tears from the eyelids start.

  I wonder if Mr. Longfellow wrote this in summer? It is so hot that I wish for some showers from the clouds of summer. I also wish I could wear spangles and ride bareback.

  August 2

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Auntie Janet says we’re having “dog days.” She just means that it is still very hot. I don’t know why you would call them dog days because dogs don’t like it. Barney’s yellow dog just lies in the shade and pants. The only person who is not flattened by the heat is Mungo, who is as lively as ever, so I think we should call them “cat days.” Here are some things about him:

  He loves to chase scrunched-up paper balls.

  His favourite thing is to hide in the woodbox.

  He continues to grow and his tail is longer and wavy-er.

  He licks my nose in the morning if I don’t open my eyes right away.

  August 3

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  The only place to be is near the river. After work today, Murdo, Kathleen, Auntie and I did not even go home. We just went straight along the river to our favourite place.

  It is shady and the sound of the water makes you feel a bit cooler. We sat with our feet in the water and Auntie told a story. It’s called “The lass who went out at the cry of dawn.” A girl goes out at dawn to wash her face in the dew to make herself prettier and she disappears. Her younger sister goes on a journey to look for her. Her mother gives her a package of yarn, a needle, pins and a silver thimble. She hears about a wicked wizard, who lives in a castle on Mischanter Hill, who steals away young girls. On the way to the castle she meets a tinker and a ragged beggar and she is kind to them and they give her magic advice. The tinker says, “What you see and hear are not what they seem to be.” The beggar says, “Gold and silver are a match for evil.” When the sister arrives at the wizard’s castle he invites her in and then he puts her to many tests, like fire and a vicious wolf, but she is brave and clever and she rescues her sister, and vanquishes the wizard using magic and her sewing things. On the way home they meet two fine young men and it turns out that they are the tinker and the beggar, who were under the wizard’s wicked spell. And they fall in love and marry them and live happily all the rest of their days.

  Auntie Janet said that when she heard the story from her granny she thought it meant that you should always carry a thimble. And then Kathleen said that the story means that if she is stolen away then Murdo has to come and rescue her because that is his duty as a brother. And then Murdo said that the story means that Kathleen should go out in the morning and wash her face in the dew so that she will become better looking and someone will want to marry her. And then Kathleen picked up Murdo and threw him right into the river! He bobbed up snorting and laughing and then he tried to splash us all, but we beat a retreat.

  I didn’t say what I thought of the story because (secret) it made me a bit sad. I am so lucky to have Auntie Janet and Uncle James as my family, but when I heard about that loyal sister, and sometimes when I see how Murdo is with Kathleen and Percy and the little ones, I long for a brother or a sister.

  August 4

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  This afternoon I saw something so sad that I am almost afraid to write it down. It will make me cry. I was walking along Mill Street. Barney was sitting outside the livery stable as usual, with his yellow dog. He wasn’t yelling or glaring at anybody, but just sort of slumped over. There were two high-school boys passing in front of him, throwing a baseball from one to the other. Suddenly one of them threw the baseball really hard at Barney’s head, calling out “Catch!” and laughing in the meanest way. Barney reached up with his stump of an arm and the ball whizzed right by his ear. Then he started to yell. The boys just ran away. I was afraid so I hurried on by. But I was full of anger. Why am I just a girl? I wanted to be big and strong, like a policeman, and grab those two boys and bang their heads together and hurt them and make them apologize to Barney.

  Here is the worst thing. I could not help seeing the end of Barney’s cut-off arm when he reached up and his sleeve fell back. It was pink and wrinkled. I cannot get that picture out of my mind. I do not want to think about this any more.

  August 5

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Bad dream last night. Creeping things, monsters with many teeth, like wolves, but like machines too. I woke up and then it was so hot that I could not get to sleep again. I used to have many bad dreams at the Home, but not so often since I came to Almonte. I hope they don’t start again.

  August 7

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  There is nothing to be said about these dog days except that I think they should be called Bladderwort days. In the newspaper it says that you can revive someone who has had sunstroke by using ammonia. The butcher has a new cooler for his meat. I would not mind being a roast or a chop just long enough to get cooled off.

  August 8

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Today after work we went out to the Agricultural Grounds to see Uncle James and Mr. Campbell play baseball. I find baseball almost as dull as cricket so I was glad that Granny Whitall came with us. She remembers a lot of things that happened in Almonte and she tells good stories. She told us about a lady balloonist who came to those very fields. Her name was Miss Nellie Thurston, from Oswego, New York. “There were posters all around the town,” said Granny Whitall, “and we were all keen to go. Mr. Flanagan closed the mill for the afternoon, and we all went out to Mr. McFarlane’s field to see it.”

  Miss Nellie Thurston got up in her balloon with no problem and sailed for nearly an hour before she came down in Merrickville. That’s thirty-five miles away. I tried to imagine it. Would it be like being a bird? Or perhaps a fairy?

  “First woman to go up in a balloon in all of Canada,” said Granny Whitall, “and it happened right here in Almonte. That’s something to be proud of.”

  Then Murdo said that he remembered seeing it, but Granny Whitall said to him, “Don’t be daft. You were just a wee boy at the time.”

  Then we all talked about the first thing we could remember. Murdo stuck to his guns and said it was a huge balloon in the sky. I think I remember your beard, Papa. It tickled my nose.

  August 9

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  The commissioners’ visit is getting close. Just this morning Auntie said that we would have to let down the hem of my dress, as I have grown si
nce I came to Almonte. This gave me hope that the commissioners would think I was fourteen, but what if they ask? I decided to talk it over with Murdo. He didn’t think but a second. “I’ll lie,” he said. “Otherwise I might be let go. All the lads will lie.” I wish it seemed this simple to me.

  August 10

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  The commissioners’ visit is getting more and more complicated. Today I talked to the weave room trio. They agree with Murdo. So then I decided that I would tell a lie, that it was the only way. But then I started to worry about Ann. Even if she could remember to lie properly, she is so small that nobody would believe her. The worst thing is that I cannot go to Auntie and Uncle with this problem.

  August 11

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Today I sat with Agnes at dinner and asked for her help. She understood right away about the lying problem and the Ann problem. Finally she said, “Leave it to me.”

  August 12

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  My heart is light. Agnes has come up with a plan for the commissioners’ visit. I will not write it down here, but it means that I will not have to lie and I will not get Auntie Janet into trouble and I will not lose my job. It was not actually Agnes who invented this plan, but Fred from wet finishing. Fred is definitely sweet on Agnes. I still cannot tell if Agnes is sweet back on Fred. She mocks him a good deal, but with a twinkle in her eye. This is all very complicated. Sometimes it seems to me a kind of miracle that two people are ever sweet on each other at the same time and in the same place.

  I walked home with Ann and told her over and over what she must do.

  August 13

  Dear Papa and Mama,

  Success! I am still a doffer girl at the Almonte Woollen Mill No. 1. Here is what happened.