One who has had much to do with outgoing colonists and knows a great
deal about their wants and difficulties, has summed up in a couple of
terse sentences their primary needs. These are, he says—
Things to Take: Time, Patience, Money.
Things to Leave: Hurry, Worry, Doubt.
The summary is an excellent one. It covers all the necessary ground;
it is capable of infinite enlargement as to meaning, and at the same
time it packs away into the smallest possible compass all that the
traveller, the pioneer or future citizen can require. It is, in fact,
a complete manual in itself, and all that we do here is to interpret
it in fuller detail, and we do this in order to save the time, the
patience and the money of those who perhaps have little of either to
spare.
Much has been written about the romance of colonization, and stories
of pioneering experiences are of thrilling interest—when read at home.
It is difficult to see the romance, as it is difficult to experience
the thrills when actually undergoing the hardships and battling with
the difficulties on the spot. What really helps, then, is not the
ability to see the romance or the picturesqueness of the situation,
but the ability to see the humorous side of things. A sense of humour
saves many a situation, and to be able to laugh in the face of hunger
and hardship, because it brings goodwill to bear on the subject, does
wonders in the way of smoothing down the rough side both of men and
things.
One of the daily trials will be the imperative need of getting meals
ready. Those three meals a day are perpetually hindering other work,
taking up much time and thought, and involving much carrying about of
tools and materials. Yet they cannot be done without, and are not to be
despised or treated with indifference. In fact, from the health point
of view they are of more consequence than making progress in other
ways, for without health and strength the colonist is of no good at all.
Those who set out with the idea of “roughing it” are very apt, in their
early enthusiasm, to think lightly about the food question, but when
they find themselves thrown on their own resources, obliged to use
their own initiative in everything, it is wonderful how important a
matter cookery becomes, and how much is made of a little knowledge or
skill in this direction.
“Can you tell me of a simple cookery-book to send out to my boy in
Canada?” a lady asked us one day. “He says he finds meals are so much
more important than he ever imagined they were, and he wants to know
how to do so many things.”
It is the simple book we have tried to write, one that the average
young man—or young woman—will have the time and patience to read and
the money to buy. It may not tell all that they will want to know, but
at least it will tell them enough to make for comfort, economy and
health, and we trust that all useless and needless technicalities have
been avoided. The great Food question comes first, and has received
the bulk of attention, as it should do, but there are a few useful
suggestions further on which may help to make the difficult way easier.
It is not possible to meet the wants of all types of settlers, for some
go to pioneer work and others go to live under advanced conditions—more
advanced, in fact, than they leave behind them in the old country;
nevertheless, all must take with them a certain amount of time,
patience and money, and all must leave behind hurry, worry and doubt,
while all, wherever they are, will find, we think, some use for our
Handy Guide.