by Jean Little
Friday, December 5, 1902
We went sledding today down a slope at the foot of Turtle Mountain. Bird got very upset when she found out and made me promise not to do it again. I argued with her until I found there were other places we could go.
The Dutchman who does a lot of the outside work for the hotel loaned us wooden shoes to put out for Saint Nicholas tonight. There’s a pair for me and one for Davy. The others are too grown up. I am so happy not to be old like them at Christmastime.
I am glad I don’t have to actually wear wooden shoes. They hurt my toes. They make a great racket too when you walk in them. You couldn’t sneak up on anyone.
Aunt Susan shut Dulcey in the house after we put the shoes out. There must be food going into them. Sweet-natured as she is, Mark’s dog would help herself to our Saint Nicholas treats.
Saturday, December 6, 1902
There certainly was food. Dutch chocolate and sugar plums and some of Mrs. Mutton’s cookies. The Dutchman sang us a Dutch song. I got a gingerbread girl. I like her.
Olivia said it wasn’t fair that she and John didn’t get treats, but Mother had a gingerbread girl put away for her and a boy for John, even though I think he’s too old.
He gave a scornful sniff and bit the head right off. I can hardly bear to eat the head and I always leave it until last and then nibble it slowly. I suppose, if you are a gingerbread person, you might want to be gobbled rather than nibbled, but I can’t force myself to do that.
Wednesday, December 10, 1902
Connor told me something today that puzzles me.
He and I stayed late at school to practise the play. When we were waiting for Mark to come and pick us up, he asked me why I had not told him I was adopted.
“I wasn’t,” I said.
He was surprised. He said my mother had told his mother that I was. Then he informed me his little sisters are adopted. When his mother found out that these two babies had been left orphans after an accident, she had adopted them. She said she knew it was the right thing to do when she saw their red hair. (Her hair is red but not like theirs.)
When we got home, I told Mother about Connor thinking I was adopted.
“His mother said you had told her so,” I said.
Mother stared at me and then she laughed. “Well, she was mistaken if that is what she thought,” she said. “We did talk about her adopting the little girls. Then we talked about my children, it is true. But she must have gotten confused. Don’t say anything to her about it, Abby, or you might embarrass her.”
Then she sent me off to help with supper.
But I keep thinking about it. I wonder how it would feel to be adopted. Lots of girls in books are orphans. It must be exciting wondering about your past.
Friday, December 12, 1902
Four days until the concert. I haven’t time to write. The days are so full of celebration. And of course we still have to keep the hotel going.
Dulcey stole a whole fruitcake from the kitchen table and was extremely sick. Mrs. Mutton said it served her right. I bet D. thought it was worth it.
Bedtime
Mother read Dickens’s A Christmas Carol aloud three evenings in a row. It is a grand story. It started with just Davy, Bird and her mother, Miss Wellington and me listening, but by the finish we had gathered a crowd. Mrs. Mutton cried and blew her nose like a trumpet. Davy thought it was incredibly funny — Mrs. Mutton’s nose, not Scrooge.
Tony is still hanging around whispering to Olivia. I don’t know what he says, of course, but she blushes and looks embarrassed and he laughs as though he thinks he is incredibly clever. When he speaks to Mother, he puts on an extra layer of manners, but you can tell he does not mean them. Mother is polite but cool. Olivia drags him away as fast as she can. She knows he is being fresh. She does her level best to keep him and Mother apart.
Wednesday, December 17, 1902
The Christmas concert was a great success! When we came to the end of the play, some of the men cheered and everyone stood up. Mother told me that it is called a “standing ovation.” Aunt Susan even cried!
I got Mother a present I think she will like, but I am not telling her ahead of time the way I did when I was little. It is a stone heart. I took a locket I had off its chain and strung the heart on in its place. The chain looks like gold even though it isn’t. The stone is so smooth and it has a beautiful pattern. I earned the money by making cookies and selling them at the Christmas Sing. Jeremiah took a box of them to the mine and sold them to the miners. They were so popular I had to bake more.
Olivia played and sang so beautifully. I was filled with pride. She looked lovely too. Tony came over but he had been drinking and he started getting loud and making threats. Uncle Martin told him to leave and not come back until he sobered up. A couple of the men from the mine made sure he left. Olivia was red as fire as they marched him out the door. Mother told Olivia that Tony is too old for her.
“You aren’t even eighteen. Tony must be twenty-five if he’s a day.”
Olivia said, “He thinks I am very mature.”
He’s over eight years older than she is. I know about Uncle Martin throwing him out because I was coming back from the dining room when it happened. Once he was outside, Tony met up with some of his buddies and took off down the road.
Change the subject, Abby.
On the night of the concert, Connor tripped getting up the step to the stage, but I caught him. He was grateful. I wasn’t going to put it in here, but it was so nice, the way he looked at me and whispered, “Thank you.”
Saturday, December 20, 1902
Now we are busy decorating the hotel. The boys fetched home a gorgeous tree that they cut down themselves. We have popped corn and threaded it with cranberries into long strings that will look like snow when it is looped on the evergreen boughs. We cut strips of coloured paper too and pasted them together. And Mrs. Mutton made some special cookies for hanging — stars and Christmas stockings and holly.
I wish Father could see how special Christmas can be. I still can’t understand why he hated it so.
Christmas Eve Morning
December 24, 1902
I made Davy a toy dog out of rags. I was going to give it button eyes, but Mother said Davy might chew them off. So I embroidered them instead. It did not look like any dog I had ever seen, but Davy is not critical. It will fit in the Christmas stocking Mother has made for him. The stockings he wears aren’t big enough to hold presents.
When Uncle Martin and Aunt Susan went to Lethbridge, they came home with a toy train for him. It’s a proper one with wheels and real little windows. It has a locomotive, a passenger car, a freight car and a caboose. I can hardly wait for him to see it. I’m sure he will love it.
John muttered that they had wasted their money because Davy would not know what to do with it, but he is wrong. Davy loves playing with toys even though he does it differently.
Christmas Eve
Davy is asleep at last and it is time to hang up our stockings. Aunt Susan made us hang one up for everyone in the family. They look magical hanging in a row waiting for Santa.
Mother says I must go to bed or Santa Claus won’t come. You’d think I was Davy’s age.
Christmas Night
December 25, 1902
Christmas Day has been perfect. Davy was entranced by all of it. I had to keep pulling his hands away from the ornaments because he does not know how to hold anything gently.
The train was miraculous to him. He lies on the floor and pushes it back and forth, back and forth, making train whistle noises. Other children would grow bored after a while, but not Davy. He likes my rag dog too. It does make him laugh, but that is fine with me. It is a comical animal.
Olivia has a necklace Tony got her. Mother asked her where it came from and she said she saved up and got it for herself. I wish she hadn’t lied to Mother. It makes me miserable.
In spite of what John said about minding my own business, I think I maybe should
try to talk to Olivia about Tony. Arabella says he got her cousin in trouble and then left her cold. I am not sure what she meant exactly. She would not say anything more except that I should tell Olivia he was not worth wiping her shoes on.
I can’t do it. I know she would just be furious at me, and we are getting along so much better now. I’ll wait and see if she finds out from somebody else.
Bird can hardly wait to borrow the book I got. It is called Glengarry Schooldays. I am halfway through. It is about boys but it is a good story.
Tonight, after almost everyone had gone to bed, Mother, John, Olivia and I sat down together in the lounge for a glass of eggnog. We were quiet for a while and then Mother said, “Thank you for helping make this such a happy day.”
We looked at her and even John smiled. She didn’t need to explain. It was as though we were one person for a few moments. I never felt quite that way before. I wanted it never to end.
Boxing Day
December 26, 1902
Jeremiah came over last night with a little cameo pin for Olivia. She showed it to Mother right away. No need to lie about Jeremiah! If I ever have a sweetheart, I want him to be one I can talk about to Mother. Not that I will have a sweetheart. Not for years anyway.
1903
January 1903
New Year’s Day
January 1, 1903
The holidays were full of fun. Mother got me new boots for Christmas. They are wonderful. The leather is soft and there is lots of room for my toes to wiggle. My old ones really pinched and they had worn almost through in places. Mr. Thornley, the shoemaker, also brought the nicest little shoes he had made for Davy. He was a bit embarrassed, but he said his sister had told him the little fellow had started to walk and he thought Davy should have proper shoes like any other boy. I did not know he was measuring Davy’s feet the day he dropped by and took him up onto his lap. Davy is extremely proud of the shoes. He struts — and falls over!
We finally made a snowman. We tried before but the snow wouldn’t pack properly because it was too dry. Mrs. Mutton produced a battered felt hat for him to wear. She put it on him and tilted it so it looks rakish. Is that the right word?
“It looks far better on him than it did on my old man,” she said with a crack of laughter.
People went by and stopped to admire him. People here are so nice. Montreal was fine, but I know almost everybody in Frank. Well, not quite. There are a lot of men who arrive to work at the mine. Lots of them don’t speak English but they have great smiles. Mark says the Finnish ones don’t get along with the Italians. I wonder why. Maybe it is because they don’t know the same language.
Mark took Dulcey out and introduced her to the snowman so she would know he was a friend and not attack him. As though sweet Dulcey would attack anyone!
It is now 1903. I wonder what this year will bring to our family. Last New Year’s, I not only had no idea Father would die, but I did not know the town of Frank existed. Also, I did not know so many people who are close to me now. I had no idea I even had relatives in Alberta. And no best friend like Bird waiting for me.
The winter wind here blows hard and is so cold. It is like being run through with icicles. Uncle Martin drives us over to the schoolhouse in the sleigh when it is so cold our noses might freeze. The horse blows out great clouds of steam and Davy laughs and laughs. When we walk where the road has been cleared, he holds my hand and marches partway in his new shoes. He slows us down but nobody minds. If we get too late, somebody scoops him up.
Saturday, January 3, 1903
I can hardly bear to write what has happened. We were all so happy. Then, last night, Olivia did not come home.
When we realized she was missing and looked all over for her, we found she had left a note saying she was going away with Tony, but that she would be back. She did not say she was going to marry him. Mother is sick with worry about her, and Uncle Martin went all the way to Lethbridge to search for her. He’s still not back.
Why oh why did she go? I knew she should not trust Tony. Bird and I saw him out behind the stable kissing one of the kitchen girls while Olivia was playing the piano on New Year’s Eve.
I wish I had told her even if it would have made her want to bite my head off. If only I had!
She’s too young to get married. But her note did not say she meant to marry him. I know she has dreamed of having a real wedding with a bouquet and a bridal veil and everything. She and her friends used to sit around making wedding plans when we lived in Montreal.
Sunday, January 4, 1903
No word from Olivia. I cannot write about it. I never dreamed I could miss her so.
Monday, January 5, 1903
Olivia is home again! Uncle Martin heard that she had been seen in Pincher Creek and he went to look for her. She was there and he brought her safely home. Tony had left her, promising to come back for her. But he never came. He is a … a skunk! Worse than a skunk, because they don’t mean to be cruel.
She has not said a word since they came in.
Tuesday night, January 6, 1903
At first Olivia shut herself up in the room she shares with Mother, but today she came out and went back to work in the kitchen. She seems smaller and much quieter somehow. When she finishes work, she mostly keeps to her room. I wish I knew how to comfort her.
I wonder if she is still hoping Tony will come back. I don’t think she could be such a ninny. She never looks anyone in the eye now. She keeps her head down.
Arabella was home last night and heard Tony had been arrested for breaking into someone’s house. She told everybody. Olivia just looked sick.
Wednesday, January 7, 1903
Davy was restless in the night so I woke up weary. Mother told Olivia to bring me a cup of cocoa. When she brought the cup in to me and I opened my eyes, I gave a shriek. The next second, Olivia gave a matching shriek. We each had spots like blisters all over our foreheads! When we shouted for Mother to come, she took one look, then said, in a voice of doom, “Chicken pox!”
Olivia could not believe she had missed seeing the spots on herself. I thought she must have brought them home from Pincher Creek, but Aunt Susan says it takes longer than that to catch them. She thinks one of the families who stayed here over Christmas probably had them. I remember those people — the two children acted sort of sickly — so she is probably right.
I just hope Olivia passed them on to Tony and he comes down with an enormous dose of them. Ours are multiplying and they are so itchy! They are everywhere — even inside our noses and on our bottoms! And we cannot show them off. The two of us are shut up in here together. Mother has removed Davy. And our spots are a Deep Dark Secret. We must not, MUST NOT, let it get out that there are chicken pox in Four Winds.
Luckily, John already had them when he was seven or eight. Mother had them, she thinks, when she was thirteen. Olivia and I do not care when they all had them. We just want to be rid of them. They itch! They are ugly! How we will manage to survive being shut up together for days and days, neither of us can imagine.
Mrs. Mutton says she’ll pray for us. She also said we look like currant buns! That was unkind, but she baked us a pan full to make up for her cruelty. And hermit cookies too, which she knows are my favourites.
Thursday, January 8, 1903
We are going crazy in here. We read and we complain and we beg to be set free. We swear the spots are invisible. Mother and Aunt Susan open the door a crack and shake their heads. Jeremiah looked in the window and pushed a paper under the door, saying that we looked like leopards. And when he came back to the window, grinning, Olivia threw a cushion at him. But she was grinning too.
Friday, January 9, 1903
The school holidays are over.
Olivia and I are desperate for ways to pass the time. Today we wrote limericks.
Here’s my best one.
A girl named Olivia is haughty.
She’s oftentimes dizzily dotty.
But now she’s in bed
Where she’s hidden her head
To keep folks from guessing she’s spotty.
I think it is brilliant but Olivia is not impressed.
Mother came in while I was writing and she says she thinks I should put this book away until my last scab falls off, in case it is contagious. So I can’t even list my woes in your pages.
I wonder if my letters to Miss Radcliffe have given her spots.
Saturday, January 17, 1903
At last the pox are gone! We are free. We don’t feel really well, but we look fine and that is what counts. People won’t stay away from the hotel for fear of coming down with our disease.
Olivia has changed. Today Mother called and asked her to watch Davy while she washed my hair. I waited for her to refuse, but she didn’t. She sat down on the floor and gave his train a little push. He stared at her and then he grinned his funny little grin and pushed it back with both his stubby hands and the two of them laughed. I could hardly believe it. It made me feel like singing the Hallelujah Chorus.
It also made me feel a bit jealous, to be quite honest. Only a bit.
Sunday, January 18, 1903
Olivia was having cramps and I had to take her place. Kitchen work is hard and repetitive. Scrubbing, peeling, doing dishes, stirring for hours. There is laughter along with the groaning, but my feet hurt. Come back, Olivia! HURRY!
Wednesday, January 28, 1903
I have fallen behind in my schoolwork. Olivia and I should have studied instead of writing poems. But I’m glad we didn’t. We had fun and I’ll soon catch up.
Saturday, January 31, 1903
Tomorrow will be February. Mother says time flies and she’s right. I am sure it took longer when I was younger. There was something called “spare time” every day then. But nobody has heard of spare time here in Frank.
February 1903
Monday, February 2, 1903
Davy has taught me to just sit and stare at the sky or a flower or Turtle Mountain in the snow. The clouds too. He tips his head back and waves to them. It makes me want to hug him.
