THE WINTER OF 1874-5.
By the time winter set in, the walls of the new Shingwauk Home were
erected and the roof on, but beyond this nothing could be done until
spring. However, we could not wait for the new building to be completed
before re-organizing our work. The two frame cottages, already
mentioned, had been finished and furnished, and these we intended to
utilize for the present. The first pupil to arrive, singularly enough,
was named Adam,--Adam Kujoshk, from Walpole Island. We had eighteen
pupils altogether, boys and girls; a lady was engaged to act as matron
and school teacher; they had lessons and meals in a large common room
in one of the cottages, and in this one the matron and the girls
resided. The other was occupied by the laundress and the boys. For
ourselves we had engaged an old house at the Point, not more than half
a mile distant across the bay; so all fitted in very well.
It was a hard winter, but the children kept well, and they had a merry
and a happy Christmas. On Christmas morning we all drove in to the
Sault to church; such a sleigh load--twenty, I think, altogether,--some
sitting, some standing or hanging on, and two brisk ponies to pull.
Then there was the Christmas dinner of roast beef and plum pludding, to
which all the children did ample justice; and in the evening they came
over to our house, and we had a few amusements for them, and sang some
Christmas hymns. New Year's night was the time fixed for the Christmas
Tree and the prize-giving. Prizes were to be given not only for
reading, writing, and arithmetic, but also for laundry work, sewing,
baking, cutting wood, carpentering, &c. Such of the children's parents
as lived near enough were invited to be present, and a general
invitation had been given to our friends at the Sault, so we had a good
gathering both of whites and Indians, and the room was crowded. In the
building occupied by the matron and girls, coffee and refreshments had
been prepared for our guests, and in the other cottage was the
Christmas Tree. Passing from one building to the other, a pretty sight
was presented by the new Shingwauk Home, illuminated with half-a-dozen
candles in each window. The Christmas Tree was loaded with presents, a
large proportion of them being gifts from friends both in England and
in Canada, and prizes were given to the successful children. We had
several Christmas Carols and hymns during the evening, and all passed
off pleasantly and happily.
After these festivities were over, I thought the matron needed a rest,
for what had been play to others had been in a great measure work and
anxiety to her. So I offered to take charge myself while she went to a
friend's house for a couple of days.
I was curious to see how the children would manage after three months'
training in the ways of the Whites. Our principle was to teach them to
_do everything for themselves_, and so we kept no servants; the
matron superintended, and every week the children were appointed to
their various duties--two cook girls, two laundry girls, two house
girls, and so on; and the boys in like manner, some to farm work, some
to carrying water, some to chopping wood. Every Saturday the workers
received pocket-money from two to five cents each--that is--if they had
no bad marks. Well, as I have said, I was curious to see for myself how
these rules would work, and how the children would manage, and in no
way could I do better than by becoming at once their visitor, teacher,
and quasi-matron. Another point, too, I was anxious to ascertain, and
that was how "the four cents a meal" plan could be made to answer.
For three months now had these children been fed, and by dint of
wonderful care and economy, the matron had managed to keep within the
mark. How she could do it had been rather a puzzle to me. The only time
that I had undertaken to cater for them, was in the Fall, when I took a
number of them down to Garden River, to dig potatoes on our land there,
and on that occasion I remember I gave them bread and jam for tea, and
found that the jam alone which they devoured cost more than four cents
a head, leaving out the bread and the tea.
Well, it was half-past two when I arrived at the cottage. The matron
had just left, and it was time to commence afternoon school. The
children sat on benches round a long table, Eliza Jane and Betsy, and
Benjamin, David, Adam, eighteen of them altogether,--some of them
rejoicing in long Indian names as well: Menesenoons, the little
warrior; Puhgoonagezhigooqua, hole in the sky; and so forth. In ages
they ranged from the eight-year-old little warrior up to Adam and
Alice, the two eldest, who were both turned sixteen. And as regards
education, one (_not_ the little warrior) was still stumbling over
the Alphabet; while one or two who had attended school before they came
to us had advanced as far as the Fourth Reader, and were learning
English Grammar and Geography.
School was over at 5 p.m., and then the workers fell to their duties,
and the non-workers went forth to play. Alice Wawanosh (grand-daughter
of the old Chief at Sarnia) was girl monitor for the week, and Mary
Jane and 'Hole in the Sky' the cook girls. I was interested to see how
very systematically they set to work: Alice got the scales and weighed
out the bread half a pound to each child; Mary Jane set the table with
a bright array of tin mugs and plates, and 'Hole in the Sky' put the
kettle to boil and measured out the tea. Then the bread and butter was
cut up, and in a very little time all was ready. At another table a
cloth was laid for me, and everything placed ready in the nicest order.
When the big bell rang the children all mustered and got themselves
tidy, and the small bell was the signal to take their seats. They stood
while I said grace, and then quietly and orderly took their evening meal.
After tea came the washing up. Each one, without being told, fell to
his or her duty. The boys brought in wood, and filled up the kettle and
boiler with water; the girl monitor weighed out the oatmeal for to-
morrow's breakfast and handed over to the cook girls, who in their turn
carefully stirred it into the big iron pot on the stove. A wise
arrangement this to insure breakfast being in good time in the morning,
as the porridge has only to be heated up with a little fresh water, and
is none the worse.
By seven o'clock everything was in order, books were got out, and the
children seated themselves quietly round the table, not for school, but
just to amuse themselves, as best they liked. I sat in the Matron's
rocking chair by the cook-stove, and was amused to hear them puzzling
over the English words, spelling, and helping one another; some of them
had copies of my Ojebway grammar, and were teaching themselves the
English sentences translated from the Indian.
At half-past seven I suggested they should sing a few hymns before
prayers, so the monitor got the hymn books, and they started the tunes
themselves, and sang very prettily "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"
"Beautiful River," and "Hark, hark my soul, angelic songs are
swelling." Then we had prayers. I read a short passage from the Gospels
in English, and explained it in Indian. Kneeling down, they all joined
audibly in the general confession and the Lord's prayer. After prayers
all went off to bed, the boys over to the Carpenter's Cottage, and the
girls into the three dormitories. The monitor and cook, girls, however,
had to stay up another hour, for bread had been set and was not yet all
baked. There was the large wooden kneading trough by the stove, and the
scales, and as fast as one batch of bread came out of the oven another
went in, one girl cutting the dough, weighing it--four pounds to a loaf--
and another making up the bread and placing it in the tins. I think
twenty loaves altogether were baked that evening, and very nicely baked
too.
John Rodd was the wood-cutter, and his task was to light the fire in
the morning. He was early to his work, and by 6 a.m. a bright fire was
burning up, lamps were lighted, the bell rung, and soon the occupants
of the dormitories began to make their appearance, shivering,--and so
indeed was I--for it was a cold morning, twenty degrees below Zero, or
thereabouts: the smoke seemed to freeze in the chimney, the window
panes were caked with ice, and nearly everything in the house frozen
solid. It was just as well that the porridge had been made over-night,
even though it was frozen; a little hot water soon brought it to, and
it did not take very long to heat up. "Hole in the Sky" stirred it, and
kept her fingers warm, and we all huddled round the stove, wishing the
wood would stop crackling and smoking, and begin to glow with a red heat.
At last, by seven o'clock, breakfast was ready, the bell rang, and
each child sat down to his tin basin of steaming porridge, with a
tablespoonful of treacle in the middle. This, with a cup of tea, and a
hunch of bread, was their breakfast, and I don t think they fared by
any means badly. After breakfast the "workers" went to their house
duties, and the boys to their out-door work till half-past nine, when a
bell called them to prayers. Then books and slates were got out, and
school commenced. All were kept steadily at work till twelve, the cook
girls only occasionally getting up to poke the fire or peep into the
pots. Dinner was at half-past twelve, pork, beans, turnips, potatoes,
and bread; and then there was intermission until half-past two, when
they assembled again for school.
Thus all went on very satisfactorily during my two days' visit to this
embryo Institution. Merry enough they were, chasing each other about,
laughing, talking, and singing, and yet all did their duties regularly
and systematically--no jarring or disputes, and no shirking of work,
all seemed kind and ready to help one another.
Of the Indian children who were with us that first winter we know the
after-record of some. Adam Kujoshk and Alice Wawanosh married May 31st.
1878, and are now living comfortably in Sarnia. Adam is a first-class
carpenter, and can command high wages. He was employed in the cabinet-
work department, making and fitting the cabins on board the splendid
new steamship _United Empire_, which was launched at Sarnia in the
Spring of 1883. There is a young Adam, who we hope will one day be a
pupil at the Shingwauk Home. Mary-Jane died at her home in Sarnia,
trusting in her Saviour. "Hole in the Sky" has been out to service, is
a very respectable girl, and gives satisfaction to her employers. David
Nahwegahbosh married Sophia Esquimau, another of our pupils, and they
are living on the Manitoulin Island. Benjamin Shingwauk, "the Little
Warrior," is still with us, studying, and will, we hope, shortly pass
the public examination and receive a teacher's certificate. John Rodd
died at the Shingwauk in 1877, and was buried in our little cemetery;
he died trusting in the Saviour. Joseph Sahgejewh is still with us,
working at our sash and door factory, and receiving wages.