I never knew a father's protecting care and watchful love; for he died
when I was but little more than three years old; and my sister Flora a
babe in our mother's arms. No prettier village could at that time have
been found in Eastern Canada than Elmwood, and this village was our
home. Its location was romantic and picturesque. Below the village on
one side was a long stretch of level meadow-land through which flowed
a clear and placid river--whose sparkling waters, when viewed from a
distance, reminded one of a surface of polished silver. The margin of
this river, on either side, was fringed with tall stately trees, called
the Rock-Elm. According to the statement of the first settlers in the
vicinity, the whole place was once covered with a forest of those noble
trees and to this circumstance the village owed its name of Elmwood. The
number of those trees which still shaded many of the streets added much
to the beauty of the village. The village was small, but much regularity
had been observed in laying out the streets. The buildings were mostly
composed of wood; and nearly all were painted a pure white with green
blinds, which gave a very tasteful appearance to the place. It had its
two churches, and three stores, where all articles necessary to a
country trade were sold, from a scythe down to cambric needles and pearl
buttons. There was also an academy, a hotel, one and two public schools,
and I believe I have now mentioned the most important of the public
buildings of Elmwood, as it then was. The cool and inviting appearance
of the village, as well as its facilities for fishing, boating and other
healthful recreations, caused it, in course of time, to become a
favorite summer resort for the dwellers in the large cities; and for
a few weeks, once a year, Elmwood was crowded with visitors from many
distant places, and, as may be readily supposed, these periodical visits
of strangers was something which deeply interested the simple residents
of our village. In looking back to-day through the long vista of years
which separate the past from the present, the object on which memory is
inclined to linger longer is a little brown house near one end of the
village of Elmwood. Kind reader that was the home of my childhood. There
was little in the external appearance of the house or its surroundings
to win admiration from the passer-by, but it was my home, and to the
young home is ever beautiful. Recalled by memory the old house looks
very familiar to-day, with its sloping roof covered, here and there,
with patches of green moss; and the large square chimney in the centre.
Between the house and the street was a level green, in which were
several fine shady trees, and one particular tree which stood near the
centre was what I most loved of every thing connected with the
surroundings of my early home--this tree was of the species known in
Canada as the Silver Fir, and I am certain that every one familiar with
this tree will testify, as to its beauty; they grow to a large size with
very thick and wide-spreading branches, which extend downward upon the
trunk in a circular form, each circle from the top growing larger, till
the lower limbs overshadow a large space of ground beneath. This tree
was my delight in the sunny days of childhood and early youth, and in
summer most of my school-tasks were committed to memory beneath its
friendly shade; and I loved it, in the dreary season of winter, for the
deep green which it retained, amid the general desolation by which it
was surrounded. When left a widow my mother was poor, so far as worldly
riches is considered. My father had once been in moderately easy
circumstances, but the illness which terminated in his death was long,
and the means he had accumulated gradually slipped away, till, at the
period of his death, all my mother could call her own was the little
brown house which sheltered us, and very thankful was she to find, (when
every debt was paid even to the last fraction) that she still possessed
a home for herself and children. My mother possessed much energy of
mind, as well as a cheerful, hopeful disposition, and, although she
sorrowed deeply for her sad loss, she did not yield to despondency; but
endeavored to discharge faithfully her duty to her children, and to this
end she sought employment, and toiled early and late that she might
provide for our wants, and so far did Providence smile upon her efforts
that we were enabled to live in comfort and respectability. By close
industry and economy she kept me at school from the age of six to
thirteen, and would willingly have allowed me to remain longer, as she
considered my education of the first importance, but during the last
year I remained at school (although only a child of twelve years) I grew
discontented and unhappy, by seeing my mother toiling daily that I might
remain at school. And many a night did I lay awake for hours, revolving
the question in my mind of how I could assist my mother, for I felt
that, young as I was, it was time for me to do something for my own
support. Had circumstances allowed, I would gladly have remained at
school, for I was fond of study; but I believe I inherited a portion
of my mother's energetic disposition, and I felt it my duty to leave
school, and seek some employment whereby I might support myself, and
possibly assist, in a small way, my mother and little sister. My mother
was reluctant to yield her consent that I should leave school, but when
she saw how much my mind was _set_ on it, and knowing the motives which
influenced me, she finally gave her consent, and leaving school I began
looking about me for employment. My mother's wish, as well as my own
was that I should, if possible, obtain some situation in the village
where I could still board at home, but, as is usually the case, no one
needed a boy at that time. After spending several days in search of
work, without success, I became disheartened. My mother advised me to
return to my books, and think no more about it; but I was unwilling that
my first attempt toward taking care of myself should prove an entire
failure.