ON THE RETURN JOURNEY
The Chautauqua at Youngstown was now over, but we heard all about it
from Mrs. S. It consists of meetings, with lectures on all sorts of
international and intellectual subjects, interspersed with concerts and
social gatherings. It seems a very good plan for places far from large
centres of human life and thought. By this means they are brought into
touch with modern movements. Speakers from all over the world lecture at
these Chautauquas. Mrs. Pankhurst was speaking at this one.
That night we gave our promised picture talk around the caravan. We had
a mixed congregation of Anglicans, Roman Catholics, and Lutherans. The
children seemed most interested, and would hardly go away. The
Anglicans were without a clergyman at present, and they felt this
privation very keenly. They had had one of the Railway Mission clergy,
who had lived here and worked the surrounding district. The four
missioners who had served this district at different times had all been
killed in the War. Now no one was forthcoming owing to the distressing
dearth of clergy. Everything was ready should anyone be sent. Monetary
support was guaranteed. The vicarage was a nice little two-roomed shack
with a garage and Ford car all complete. The church was dusty from long
disuse, and Winifred spent all Saturday cleaning it. The furniture had
been made by one of the congregation. It was of some dark wood and of
very original design. The asphalt path from the church to the vicarage
had been laid by a Roman Catholic neighbour. This same spirit of
goodwill was shown when I went to buy gasolene and oil from a Youngstown
Roman Catholic. He refused to take any money for it, saying that he was
glad to help on religious work amongst the children.
On Sunday we held a Sunday school at 3 p.m. The children were most eager
for instruction; they knew almost nothing, poor little things. In the
evening we had a service for adults in the church. A man took the
collection in his hat because they could find nothing else. He carried
it up the aisle and gave it to me, and as I laid it on the altar I felt
that it was a more acceptable offering than many a laden alms dish
offered that night in some rich cathedral. Here, as in many places, we
were asked who paid us. When we explained that we were not paid, it
seemed to give the people a better grasp of spiritual things. In this
country of growing materialism, in which the monetary value of a thing
is of first importance, it was difficult for them to understand anyone
doing honorary work. They began to think religious education must be of
real importance when they saw that we considered the work its own
reward. The congregation asked us to keep the collection money for our
work, so we thanked them and promised to use it towards paying for the
pictures which we left at each place.
In all the parishes which we visited we left a dozen Nelson pictures
backed on linen, with wooden slips top and bottom so that they could be
hung up in the church, and also some small Nelson pictures for use in
class, as well as lesson books of different grades. Where the Canadian
Sunday School magazine was in use the teachers found these additional
books useful to supplement it both in matter and method.
We discovered that there were several outlying missions which had been
worked from Youngstown, so we decided to visit the nearer ones, and take
the others on our way back to Regina. On the Monday we went to Ryson and
looked up the children at the farms and got them to join the Sunday
School by Post. At one farm we were thankful to take shelter as a
thunderstorm was raging. The farmer's wife was away, but he and two of
his brothers were at home. The farmer was a great student of the Bible,
so he and I had a theological discussion under cover of the piano where
Winifred and the brothers made music.
After another day or two's visiting we started for Cereal, but lost our
way and did not arrive until 10 p.m. Here, also, we took the names of
several children for the Sunday School by Post. The next day we went to
Stimson, over a very bad trail. We addressed the children in the
afternoon, had supper at a farm, and then held a service in the school,
with prayers, hymns, and address. The latter was given under
difficulties. Several small children came with their parents, and
several dogs accompanied their masters. Presently one baby fell down and
began to cry, whereupon all the other babies howled in sympathy and all
the dogs began to bark. I tried to make my voice heard above the din,
but Winifred came to the rescue by collecting children and dogs and
taking them all outside. Afterwards we discussed the best way to start a
Sunday School, and took names for the Sunday School by Post in case it
proved impossible.
We started about 8 a.m. next morning for Alsask and Kindersley. We meant
to go over a hundred miles that day. The trails were awful, however, and
presently we came to a graded place which was all loose earth, and the
car skidded badly, running off the grade and sticking at an angle of 45
degrees. We unloaded, and when I got in again to drive it I had to hold
fast to the wheel in order to keep my seat, the slope was so great. But
I managed to get back to the trail. We reached Alsask about 2 p.m. and
found Mr. H. there, who wanted to be taken on to Kindersley. After five
miles the car stopped dead. On examination I found that the hub of a
back wheel was broken in half. Just then two men came along in a car and
said they were going to Alsask, so they took me and the wheel. While it
was being mended I bought some food to take back with me to the others,
but had to wait an hour or so till the men were ready to return. They
took me back to the caravan, and I put the wheel on again and we started
once more. But the car still went badly. Then we came to a steep hill
newly graded, which we could hardly get up. At last I found that I must
put in new sparking plugs, a difficult job in the dark. Whilst I was
doing this Winifred had a splendid view of a distant electrical storm.
It was a magnificent sight to see the lightning flashes playing on a
vast expanse of sky.
Then we came to a nightmare of a road, very steeply graded and with
loose hard clods about 3 feet deep on the top. These nearly knocked the
bottom out of the engine, so I had to drive on the side at an incredible
angle, expecting every moment to be overturned, though my companions
were steadying the van with might and main, the one hanging on to one
side, and the other propping up on the other. Every now and then we had
to stop and unload, or else we must have capsised. We arrived at
Kindersley about 2.30 a.m., and found Mr. and Mrs. W. still waiting up
for us with a splendid supper prepared, to which we did full justice.
About four in the morning a tremendous thunderstorm came on. I woke up
with a start and suddenly remembered that I hadn't covered up the
engine, so I scurried out to do so, otherwise my sparking plugs would
have been ruined and the whole of the engine flooded. The difficulty was
to keep the tarpaulin on, as there was always a big wind. I made up my
mind that another year the engine should have a proper mackintosh cover
to clip on.
We could not start for another twelve hours because the trails were so
heavy after the storm. The Chautauqua had reached Kindersley now. The
big brown tent was pitched just opposite the vicarage and I heard the
singing, but had no time to go to any of the lectures, unfortunately. We
did not leave for Rosetown till 4 p.m., but we arrived there at 9 p.m.,
a seventy mile run.
The next day (Sunday) we went on to Dinsmore, where the vicar lived whom
we had met before at Bounty. We had not been able to hear from him, but
knew he expected us to take a Sunday School and address parents
somewhere in his district that afternoon. We started about noon, but
lost our way, and when we inquired at a farm were wrongly directed, so
we did not get to Dinsmore till 2.30. Just as we were entering the town
we got on to a rough trail with a lot of big clods. A front wheel struck
one of these and badly bent the steering-rod, which made it very
difficult to steer the van, as it kept veering towards the left of the
trail all the time. When we reached the vicarage we found the vicar had
gone, but I knew that he had a service at Surbiton on Sunday afternoons
and so asked the way there. The caravan got more and more difficult to
steer. I tried to straighten the steering-rod with a tyre iron, but it
was not strong enough. Then we came to a creek where there had been a
bad wash-out, and a board up across the trail said "No road." But I
noticed that cars had been going over the creek a little to the right,
which meant going down a hill like the side of a house, over the stream,
and up an equally steep hill on the other side. One needs to steer
particularly well on these occasions, but I had to risk it and got
across somehow.
At last we arrived at the school-house at Surbiton, and singing told us
that service was going on. We crept in and found the room full; some of
the congregation were even sitting in the porch. The Sunday School was
over, but I was asked to give an address to the people.
The vicar had to go on immediately to another service, but he had a
puncture and no spare tube, so I lent him one of mine. He introduced us
to the Sunday School superintendent and her husband. She was most
anxious to learn anything about methods. All the children of every
denomination attended her school. She invited us to stop to supper, and
it finally ended in our camping in their yard for nearly a week. We
wanted to teach the children, so our host and hostess suggested that
they should be invited to a cricket match, and have a picture talk
afterwards in the evening. They complained of the lack of organised
games for the children, a thing we had already noticed. Here and there a
teacher would organise a base-ball team, and that was all. One felt how
invaluable it would be to have more Boy Scouts and Girl Guides. The
difficulty here lies in the lack of people for Guiders and
Scout-masters.
The cricket match could not take place till after school, then the
children arrived in cars and buggies, and we had a splendid game. We
played till it was too dark to see, and then had the Bible picture talk
by the light of the moon and the headlights of the cars. The day-school
master and the parents standing behind the children seemed just as
interested as the latter were.