THE SPIRIT Of CANADA
Whatever it was that rendered it necessary for Duckworth to “see the
fellows,” that necessity vanished in the presence of Nora.
“Are you going to take in the polo?” he asked.
“Am I? Am I going to continue breathing?” cried Nora. “Come along,
Mother, we must go if we are to get a good place.”
“May I find one for you,” said Mr. Duckworth, quite forgetting that he
“must see the fellows,” and thinking only of his good luck in falling
in with such a “stunning-looking girl.” He himself had changed into
flannels, and with his athletic figure, his brown, healthy face, brown
eyes and hair, was a thoroughly presentable young man. He found a place
with ease for his party, a dozen people offering to make room for them.
As Mr. Duckworth let his eyes rest upon the young lady at his side his
sense of good-fortune grew upon him, for Nora in white pique skirt and
batiste blouse smartly girdled with a scarlet patent leather belt, in
white canvas shoes and sailor hat, made a picture good to look at. Her
dark olive brown skin, with rich warm colour showing through the sunburn
of her cheeks, her dark eyes, and her hair for once “done up in style”
under Kathleen's supervision, against the white of her costume made
her indeed what her escort thought, “a stunning-looking girl.” Usually
careless as to her appearance, she had yielded to Kathleen's persuasion
and had “gotten herself up to kill.” No wonder her friends of both sexes
followed her with eyes of admiration, for no one envied Nora, her frank
manner, her generous nature, her open scorn at all attempts to win
admiration, made her only friends.
“Bring your mother over here,” cried Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, who rejoiced
exceedingly in the girl's beauty. “Why, how splendidly you are looking
to-day,” she continued in a more confidential tone as the party grouped
themselves about her. “What have you been doing to yourself? You are
looking awfully fine.”
“Am I?” said Nora, exceedingly pleased with herself. “I am awfully glad.
It is all Kathleen's doing. I got me the belt and the hat new for this
show.”
“Very smart, that belt, my dear,” said her friend.
“I rather fancy it myself, and Kathleen would do up my hair in this new
way,” said Nora, removing her hat that the full glory of her coiffure
might appear. “Do you like it?”
“Perfectly spiffing!” ejaculated Mr. Duckworth, who had taken a seat
just behind her chair.
Nora threw him a challenging glance that made that young man's heart
skip a beat or two as all the excitements of the match had not.
“Are you a judge?” said the girl, tipping her saucy chin at him.
“Am I? With four sisters and dozens of cousins to practise on, I fancy I
might claim to be a regular bench show expert.”
“Then,” cried Nora with sudden animation, “you are the very man I want.”
“Thank you so much,” replied Mr. Duckworth fervently.
“I mean, perhaps you can advise me. Now as you look at me--” The young
man's eyes burned into hers so that with all her audacity Nora felt the
colour rising in her face. “Which would you suggest as the most suitable
style for me, the psyche knot or the neck roll?”
“I beg your pardon? I rather--”
“Or would you say the French twist?”
“Ah, the French twist--”
“Or simply marcelled and pomped?”
“I am afraid--”
“Or perhaps the pancake or the coronet?”
“Well,” said the young man, desperately plunging, “the coronet I should
say would certainly not be inappropriate. It goes with princesses,
duchesses and that sort of thing. Don't you think so, Mrs.
Waring-Gaunt?” said Duckworth, hoping to be extricated. That lady,
however, gave him no assistance but continued to smile affectionately at
the girl beside her. “What style is this that you have now adopted, may
I ask?” inquired Mr. Duckworth cautiously.
“Oh, that's a combination of several. It's a creation of Kathleen's
which as yet has received no name.”
“Then it should be named at once,” said Duckworth with great emphasis.
“May I suggest the Thunderbolt? You see, of course--so stunning.”
“They are coming on,” cried Nora, turning her shoulder in disdain upon
the young man. “Look, there's your brother, Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. I think
he is perfectly splendid.”
“Which is he?” said Mr. Duckworth, acutely interested.
“That tall, fine-looking man on the brown pony.”
“Oh, yes, I see. Met him this morning. By Jove, he is some looker too,”
replied Mr. Duckworth with reluctant enthusiasm.
“And there is the High River Captain,” said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt, “on the
grey.”
“Oh, yes, Monteith, he played for All Canada last year, didn't he?” said
Nora with immense enthusiasm. “He is perfectly splendid.”
“I hear the High River club has really sent only its second team, or at
least two of them,” said Mrs. Waring-Gaunt. “Certainly Tremaine is not
with them.”
“I hope they get properly trimmed for it,” said Nora, indignantly. “Such
cheek!”
The result of the match quite exceeded Nora's fondest hopes, for the
High River team, having made the fatal error of despising the enemy,
suffered the penalty of their mistake in a crushing defeat. It was
certainly a memorable day for Wolf Willow, whose inhabitants were
exalted to a height of glory as they never experienced in all their
history.
“Serves us right,” said Monteith, the High River Captain, apologising
for his team's poor display to his friend, Hec Ross, who had commanded
the Wolf Willow team. “We deserved to be jolly well licked, and we got
what was coming to us.”
“Oh, we're not worrying,” replied the Wolf Willow Captain, himself a
sturdy horseman and one of the most famous stick handlers in the West.
“Of course, we know that if Murray and Knight had been with you the
result would have been different.”
“I am not at all sure about that,” replied Monteith. “That new man of
yours, Romayne, is a wonder. Army man, isn't he?”
“Yes, played in India, I believe.”
“Oh, no wonder he's such a don at it. You ought to get together a great
team here, Ross, and I should like to bring our team down again to give
you a real game.”
“When?”
“Say two weeks. No. That throws it a little late for the harvest. Say a
week from to-day.”
“I shall let you know to-night,” said Ross. “You are staying for the
spellbinding fest and entertainment, are you not?”
“Sure thing; we are out for the whole day. Who are on for the speaking?”
“Gilchrist for one, our Member for the Dominion, you know.”
“Oh, yes, strong man, I believe. He's a Liberal, of Course.”
“Yes,” replied Ross, “he's a Grit all right, hide-bound too--”
“Which you are not, I take it,” replied Monteith with a laugh.
“Traditionally I am a Conservative,” said Ross, “but last election I
voted Liberal. I don't know how you were but I was keen on Reciprocity.”
“The contrary with me,” replied Monteith. “Traditionally I am a Liberal,
but I voted Conservative.”
“You voted against Reciprocity, you a western man voted against a better
market for our wheat and stuff, and against cheaper machinery?”
“Yes, I knew quite well it would give us a better market for our grain
here, and it would give us cheaper machinery too, but--do you really
care to know why I switched?”
“Sure thing; I'd like awfully to hear if you don't mind. We are not
discussing politics, you understand.”
“No. Well,” said Monteith, “two things made me change my party. In the
first place, to be quite frank, I was afraid of American domination.
We are a small people yet. Their immense wealth would overwhelm our
manufacturers and flood our markets with cheap stuff, and with trade
dominance there would more easily go political dominance. You remember
Taft's speech? That settled it for me. That was one thing. The other was
the Navy question. I didn't like Laurier's attitude. I am a Canadian,
born right here in Alberta, but I am an Imperialist. I am keen about the
Empire and that sort of thing. I believe that our destiny is with the
Empire and that with the Empire we shall attain to our best. And since
the Empire has protected us through all of our history, I believe the
time has come when we should make our contribution to its defence.
We ought to have a fleet, and that fleet in time of war should
automatically be merged with the Imperial Navy. That's how I felt at
the last election. This autonomy stuff of Laurier's is all right, but it
should not interfere with Imperial unity.”
“It's a funny thing,” replied Ross. “I take the opposite side on both
these points. I was born in the Old Country and like most Old Country
people believe in Free Trade. So I was keen to wipe out all barriers
between the United States and ourselves in trade. I believe in trading
wherever you can get the best terms. As for American domination, I have
not the slightest fear in the world of the Yankees. They might flood
our markets at first, probably would, but they would certainly bring
in capital. We need capital badly, you know that. And why should not
factories be established on this side of the line with American money?
Pennsylvania does not hurt New York, nor Illinois Dakota. Why then, with
all trade barriers thrown down, should the United States hurt Canada?
And then on the other side, we get a market for everything we grow
at our doors. Reciprocity looked good to me. As for imperilling our
Imperial connections--I do not mean to be offensive at all--of course
you see what your position amounts to--that our financial interests
would swamp our loyalty, that our loyalty is a thing of dollars and
cents. My idea is that nothing in the world from the outside can ever
break the bonds that hold Canada to the Empire, and after all, heart
bonds are the strong bonds. Then in regard to the Navy, I take the other
view from you also. I believe I am a better Canadian than you, although
I am not Canadian born. I think there's something awfully fine in
Canada's splendid independence. She wants to run her own ranch, and by
George she will, and everything on it. She is going to boss her own job
and will allow no one else to butt in. I agree with what you say about
the Empire. Canada ought to have a Navy and quick. She ought to take her
share of the burden of defence. But I agree here with Laurier. I believe
her ships should be under her own control. For after all only the
Canadian Government has the right to speak the word that sends them
out to war. Of course, when once Canada hands them over to the Imperial
Navy, they will fall into line and take their orders from the Admiral
that commands the fleet. Do you know I believe that Laurier is right in
sticking out for autonomy.”
“I am awfully interested in what you say, and I don't believe we are
so far apart. It's a thousand pities they did not keep together in the
Commons. They could easily have worked it out.”
“Yes, it was a beastly shame,” replied Ross.
“But isn't it rather queer,” said Monteith, “and isn't it significant,
too? Here I am, born in Canada, sticking out against reciprocity and
anxious to guard our Imperial connection and ready to hand our Navy
clean over to the Imperial authorities, and on the other hand, there
you are, born in the Old Country, you don't appear to care a darn about
Imperial connections. You let that take care of itself, and you stick up
for Canadian autonomy to the limit.”
“Well, for one thing,” replied Ross, “we ought to get together on
the Navy business. On the trade question we represent, of course, two
schools of economics, but we ought not to mix up the flag with our
freight. This flag-flapping business makes me sick.”
“There you are again,” said Monteith. “Here I am, born right here in the
West, and yet I believe in all the flag-flapping you can bring about
and right here in this country too. Why, you know how it is with these
foreigners, Ruthenians, Russians, Germans, Poles. Do you know that in
large sections of this western country the foreign vote controls the
election? I believe we ought to take every means to teach them to love
the flag and shout for it too. Oh, I know you Old Country chaps. You
take the flag for granted, and despise this flag-raising business. Let
me tell you something. I went across to Oregon a little while ago and
saw something that opened my eyes. In a little school in the ranching
country in a settlement of mixed foreigners--Swedes, Italians, Germans,
Jews--they had a great show they called 'saluting the flag.'
Being Scotch you despise the whole thing as a lot of rotten slushy
sentimentality, and a lot of Canadians agree with you. But let me tell
you how they got me. I watched those kids with their foreign faces,
foreign speech--you ought to hear them read--Great Scott, you'd have to
guess at the language. Then came this flag-saluting business. A kid
with Yiddish written all over his face was chosen to carry in the flag,
attended by a bodyguard for the colours, and believe me they appeared as
proud as Punch of the honour. They placed the flag in position, sang a
hymn, had a prayer, then every kid at a signal shot out his right hand
toward the flag held aloft by the Yiddish colour bearer and pledged
himself, heart, and soul, and body, to his flag and to his country.
The ceremony closed with the singing of the national hymn, mighty poor
poetry and mighty hard to sing, but do you know listening to those kids
and watching their foreign faces I found myself with tears in my eyes
and swallowing like a darn fool. Ever since that day I believe in
flag-flapping.”
“Maybe you are right,” replied Ross. “You know we British folk are
so fearfully afraid of showing our feelings. We go along like graven
images; the more really stirred up, the more graven we appear. But
suppose we move over to the platform where the speechifying is to be
done.”
In front of the school building a platform had been erected, and before
the stage, preparations had been made for seating the spectators as far
as the school benches and chairs from neighbours' houses would go. The
programme consisted of patriotic songs and choruses with contributions
from the minstrel company. The main events of the evening, however, were
to be the addresses, the principal speech being by the local member for
the Dominion Parliament, Mr. J. H. Gilchrist, who was to be followed
by a local orator, Mr. Alvin P. Jones, a former resident of the United
States, but now an enthusiastic, energetic and most successful farmer
and business man, possessing one of the best appointed ranches in
Alberta. The chairman was, of course, Reverend Evans Rhye. The parson
was a little Welshman, fat and fussy and fiery of temper, but his heart
was warmly human, and in his ministry he manifested a religion of such
simplicity and devotion, of such complete unselfishness as drew to
him the loyal affection of the whole community. Even such sturdy
Presbyterians as McTavish, the Rosses, Angus Frazer and his mother,
while holding tenaciously and without compromise to their own particular
form of doctrine and worship, yielded Mr. Rhye, in the absence of a
church and minister of their own denomination, a support and esteem
unsurpassed even among his own folk. Their attitude was considered to be
stated with sufficient clearness by Angus Frazer in McTavish's store one
day. “I am not that sure about the doctrine, but he has the right kind
of religion for me.” And McTavish's reply was characteristic: “Doctrine!
He has as gude as you can expec' frae thae Episcopawlian buddies.
But he's a Godly man and he aye pays his debts whatever,” which from
McTavish was as high praise as could reasonably be expected.
The audience comprised the total population of Wolf Willow and its
vicinity, as well as visitors from the country within a radius of ten or
fifteen miles.
Mr. J. H. Gilchrist, M. P., possessed the initial advantages of Scotch
parentage and of early Scotch training, and besides these he was a
farmer and knew the farmer's mind. To these advantages he added those
of a course of training in Toronto University in the departments of
metaphysics and economics, and an additional advantage of five years'
pedagogical experience. He possessed, moreover, the gift of lucid and
forceful speech. With such equipment small wonder that he was in demand
for just such occasions as a Dominion Day celebration and in just such
a community as Wolf Willow. The theme of his address was Canadian
Citizenship, Its Duties and Its Responsibilities, a theme somewhat worn
but possessing the special advantage of being removed from the scope
of party politics while at the same time affording opportunity for
the elucidation of the political principles of that party which Mr.
Gilchrist represented, and above all for a fervid patriotic appeal. With
Scotch disdain of all that savoured of flattery or idle compliment, Mr.
Gilchrist plunged at once into the heart of his subject.
“First, the area of Canada. Forty-six years ago, when Canada became a
nation, the Dominion possessed an area of 662,148 square miles; to-day
her area covers 3,729,665 square miles, one-third the total size of
the British Empire, as large as the continent of Europe without Russia,
larger by over one hundred thousand square miles than the United
States.”
“Hear, hear,” cried an enthusiastic voice from the rear.
“Aye, water and snow,” in a rasping voice from old McTavish.
“Water and snow,” replied Mr. Gilchrist. “Yes, plenty of water, 125,000
square miles of it, and a good thing it is too for Canada. Some people
sniff at water,” continued the speaker with a humorous glance at
McTavish, “but even a Scotchman may with advantage acknowledge the value
of a little water.” The crowd went off into a roar of laughter at the
little Scotchman who was supposed to be averse to the custom of mixing
too much water with his drink.
“My friend, Mr. McTavish,” continued the speaker, “has all a Scotchman's
hatred of bounce and brag. I am not indulging in foolish brag, but I
maintain that no Canadian can rightly prize the worth of his citizenship
who does not know something of his country, something of the wealth of
meaning lying behind that word 'Canada,' and I purpose to tell you this
evening something of some of Canada's big things. I shall speak of them
with gratitude and with pride, but chiefly with a solemnising sense of
responsibility.
“As for the 'water and the snow' question: Let me settle that now. Water
for a great inland continental country like ours is one of its most
valuable assets for it means three things. First, cheap transportation.
We have the longest continuous waterway in the world, and with two small
cuttings Canada can bring ocean-going ships into the very heart of the
continent. Second, water means climate rainfall, and there need be no
fear of snow and frost while great bodies of open water lie about. And
third, water power. Do you know that Canada stands first in the world in
its water power? It possesses twice the water power of the United States
(we like to get something in which we can excel our American cousins),
and lying near the great centres of population too. Let me give you
three examples. Within easy reach of Vancouver on the west coast
there is at least 350,000 horse power, of which 75,000 is now in use.
Winnipeg, the metropolitan centre of Canada, where more than in any
place else can be heard the heart beat of the Dominion, has 400,000
horse power available, of which she now uses 50,000. Toronto lies within
reach of the great Niagara, whose power no one can estimate, while along
the course of the mighty St. Lawrence towns and cities lie within touch
of water power that is beyond all calculation as yet. And do you Alberta
people realise that right here in your own province the big Bassano
Dam made possible by a tiny stream taken from the Bow River furnishes
irrigation power for over a million acres? Perhaps that will do about
the water.”
“Oo aye,” said McTavish, with profound resignation in his voice. “Ye'll
dae wi' that.”
“And snow,” cried the speaker. “We would not willingly be without our
snow in Canada. Snow means winter transport, better business, lumbering,
and above all, wheat. Where you have no snow and frost you cannot get
the No. 1 hard wheat. Don't quarrel with the snow. It is Canada's
snow and frost that gives her the first place in the world in wheat
production. So much for the water and the snow.”
McTavish hitched about uneasily. He wanted to have the speaker get done
with this part of his theme.
From Canada's area Mr. Gilchrist passed on to deal with Canada's
resources, warning his audience that the greater part of these
resources was as yet undeveloped and that he should have to indulge in
loud-sounding phrases, but he promised them that whatever words he
might employ he would still be unable to adequately picture to their
imagination the magnitude of Canada's undeveloped wealth. Then in a
perfect torrent he poured forth upon the people statistics setting forth
Canada's possessions in mines and forests, in fisheries, in furs, in
agricultural products, and especially in wheat. At the word “wheat” he
pulled up abruptly.
“Wheat,” he exclaimed, “the world's great food for men. And Canada holds
the greatest wheat farm in all the world. Not long ago Jim Hill told
the Minneapolis millers that three-fourths of the wheat lands on the
American continent were north of the boundary line and that Canada could
feed every mouth in Europe. Our wheat crop this year will go nearly
250,000,000 bushels, and this, remember, without fertilisation and with
very poor farming, for we Western Canadians are poor farmers. We owe
something to our American settlers who are teaching us something of the
science and art of agriculture. Remember, too, that our crop comes from
only one-seventh of our wheat lands. Had the other six-sevenths
been cropped, our wheat yield would be over three and a half billion
bushels--just about the world's supply. We should never be content till
Canada does her full duty to the world, till Canada gives to the world
all that is in her power to give. I make no apology for dwelling at such
length upon Canada's extent and resources.
“Now let me speak to you about our privileges and responsibilities as
citizens of this Dominion. Our possessions and material things will be
our destruction unless we use them not only for our own good, but for
the good of the world. And these possessions we can never properly use
till we learn to prize those other possessions of heart and mind and
soul.”
With a light touch upon the activities of Canadians, in the development
of their country in such matters as transportation and manufactures,
he passed to a consideration of the educational, social, industrial,
political and religious privileges which Canadian citizens enjoyed.
“These are the things,” he cried, “that have to do with the nation's
soul. These are the things that determine the quality of a people and
their place among the nations, their influence in the world. In the
matter of education it is the privilege of every child in Canada to
receive a sound training, not only in the elementary branches of study,
but even in higher branches as well. In Canada social distinctions are
based more upon worth than upon wealth, more upon industry and ability
than upon blue blood. Nowhere in the world is it more profoundly true
that
“'A man's a man for a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp;
The man's the gowd for a' that.'”
At this old McTavish surprised the audience and himself by crying out,
“Hear-r-r, hear-r-r,” glancing round defiantly as if daring anyone to
take up his challenge.
“In matters of religion,” continued the speaker, “the churches of Canada
hold a position of commanding influence, not because of any privileges
accorded them by the State, nor because of any adventitious or
meretricious aids, but solely because of their ability to minister to
the social and spiritual needs of the people.”
Briefly the speaker proceeded to touch upon some characteristic features
of Canadian political institutions.
“Nowhere in the world,” he said, “do the people of a country enjoy a
greater measure of freedom. We belong to a great world Empire. This
connection we value and mean to cherish, but our Imperial relations do
not in the slightest degree infringe upon our liberties. The Government
of Canada is autonomous. Forty-six years ago the four provinces of
Canada were united into a single Dominion with representative Government
of the most complete kind. Canada is a Democracy, and in no Democracy
in the world does the will of the people find more immediate and more
complete expression than in our Dominion. With us political liberty is
both a heritage and an achievement, a heritage from our forefathers who
made this Empire what it is, and an achievement of our own people led by
great and wise statesmen. This priceless possession of liberty we shall
never surrender, for the nation that surrenders its liberty, no matter
what other possessions it may retain, has lost its soul.”
The address concluded with an appeal to the people for loyal devotion
to the daily duties of life in their various relations as members of
families, members of the community, citizens of the Province and of the
Dominion. In the applause that followed the conclusion of this address,
even old McTavish was observed to contribute his share with something
amounting almost to enthusiasm.