CHAPTER III

HOME-LIFE IN CANADA

The English visitor to a Canadian city finds things much as they are at

home: there are different names for articles in common use; the hotel

elevator goes faster than the lift at home; the trams are street-cars,

the streets are not so clean; the traffic is not so well managed; and

the public buildings and parks are newer, and lack the grace and beauty

of the old land architecture. The houses all have verandas, on which,

in summer, the people spend a great part of their time, even eating and

sleeping there; and most of the houses have lawns unprotected from the

street by walls or fences. The houses are kept much warmer in winter

than is the English custom, and ice is everywhere used in the summer.

All well-to-do people in the towns, and many in the country, have

telephones. Other minor differences there are, but you would soon feel

quite at home in a Canadian house.

The stranger visiting a Canadian town is at once struck by the keenness

of the local enthusiasm. That is to say, the people who live in that

town are immensely proud of it, and consider it the finest and best

place to live in in all the world. They are very fond of pointing out

the advantages which it enjoys, and never neglect the smallest

opportunity of boasting of its beauty or wealth or public spirit, or

whatever it may be that it excels in. The governing authorities of the

town, as the Mayor and Town Council, vote money from time to time

expressly to advertise their town, in the hope of attracting strangers

to come and live there. Then the citizens form themselves into clubs

for the purpose of helping the population to reach as soon as possible

20,000, or 50,000, or 100,000, as the case may be; and these clubs bear

the strange titles of the Twenty Thousand Club, the Fifty Thousand

Club, the Hundred Thousand Club, and so on.

The houses in the towns, and even many houses in the country, are not

considered properly furnished if they have not the telephone fitted up

inside them. The Canadians--women, and even children, as well as

business men--use the telephone pretty well every day of their lives.

Does a lady want to know how her neighbour's little girl's cut finger

is getting on, she rings her neighbour up on the "'phone." A lady does

her shopping at the grocery store, or orders her joint for dinner "over

the 'phone." A boy asks his classmate how much history they have to

learn for their home-lesson to-night. Indeed, in a Canadian home the

telephone is used as much and as frequently as the poker is for

stirring the fire on a cold winter's day in any English home.

In many of the thinly inhabited districts the place where people meet

and gossip and pick up the news of what is happening in the

country-side is not the weekly market or the church, because very often

neither the one nor the other exists, but it is the "store." This is

not a barn or similar building in which people put their hay or corn or

other produce till they wish to sell it. The word means "a shop," and

the country store, the focus and centre of the life of the district, is

almost always a shop where pretty nearly every conceivable thing is

sold, from iron wedges (for splitting logs) to oranges, from ready-made

suits of clothes to note-paper. And the storekeeper is nearly always

the postmaster as well. Thus, if you want to find out all about a

district, you are most likely to obtain the information you seek from

the storekeeper. He can tell you what land or what farms there are for

sale in the locality, and the prices that are being asked. He knows

the names of everybody within a range of a good many miles, and often

knows a great deal more about people than their names alone.

In the older parts of the country, life on the farm is much the same as

elsewhere; the houses are built of stone and brick, with verandas and

lawns, heated by furnaces, and furnished with all that comfort, even

luxury, demands. But far back in the newer parts of Ontario or New

Brunswick we see in a small clearing in the forest or on the edge of a

lake or stream the "log-cabin," with the blue smoke curling up from the

chimney at one end. If we come up to the door we are sure of a

welcome; that is the rule in the wilderness. We enter, to find the

house of two rooms, and perhaps an attic above; the big iron stove for

both cooking and heating stands at one end, and the rifle, guns, and

fishing-tackle, and the dried skins on the wall, tell of the pleasures

of forest life. Perhaps the owner greets you with a fine Scotch or

Yorkshire "twang," and you need feel no surprise if you see last

month's _Punch_ or the _Weekly Times_ lying on the table. These hardy

settlers make their living in part by the battle with the forest, in

part by what they shoot or trap, but largely by working in the winter

for the large lumber (timber) companies who have bought the pine in the

woods from the Government; sometimes, too, they act as guides in the

summer and autumn for the tourists or amateur huntsmen. Their life

teaches them to be strong, active, and self-reliant, with a fine

disdain for the city man, who is so helpless on the trail or in a canoe.

On the prairie the life is quite different. Here the settler is

content with the little wooden cabin of double boards with tar-paper

between, which he erects himself; his supplies he brings in the form of

flour, bacon, and canned goods from the nearest town many miles away.

His nearest neighbour may be ten miles away, his railway-station

twenty; all around to the horizon stretches a vast plain, like the sea.

His horses are hobbled at night to keep them from straying, for there

are no fences; he cuts their hay for the winter in the "slews" or

"swales"--low-lying, marshy spots on the prairie. He is fortunate if

there is within reasonable distance a poplar thicket, where he can cut

some firewood. From morn to night he follows the plough through the

rich black soil, which has waited for it from time immemorial; his

whole life is the wheat. A lonely, hard existence, but the reward

comes so fast that in a few years of good crops he may spend his

winters in the South, while his sons and daughters attend college.

Now, a peep at the home of the "habitant"--the French-Canadian farmer

in the Province of Quebec. A tiny white house in the shadow of a

little church, whose spire is tipped with a golden cross, overlooking a

mighty river; a narrow strip of farm, every inch in cultivation; a

group of many dark-eyed children chattering in a picturesque patois;

you close your eyes and you are in Brittany. Hard-working,

home-loving, religious, but light-hearted, these people preserve

throughout centuries without change the virtues and customs, the speech

and the religion of their ancestors. They grow most of what they eat;

they make everything they wear; and little money means wealth. Their

sons are found in the factory towns of the New England States, and in

the lumber woods of the North.

"We leev very quiet 'way back on de contree:

Don't put on same style lak de big village."

or--

"De fader of me was habitant farmer,

My gran'fadder too, and hees fader also.

Dey don't mak' no monee, but dat isn't funny,

For it's not easy get everything, you must know,"

as Drummond the habitant poet quaintly says.

Most of the schools in Canada are public, which means just the opposite

to what it means to the English boy who knows Rugby, Eton, or Harrow;

they are like English Board-schools, free to all, and attended by both

boys and girls. Then there are high schools, where students may be

prepared for college, and there are private schools, corresponding to

the English public schools; of these the oldest and most noted is Upper

Canada College, which is like the Eton of Canada. There are

Universities in all the provinces, and Toronto and McGill University in

Montreal are as large as the great Universities at home.

The English boy or girl coming to Canada will find the money quite

different from what he has been accustomed to; it is measured in

dollars, and a dollar is about equal to four shillings. There are 100

cents in a dollar, and there is a copper coin for 1 cent, value one

halfpenny, usually called a "copper," and silver coins for 5, 10, 25,

and 50 cents; but for large sums bank-notes in denominations of 1, 2,

5, 10 dollars and more are used. As the decimal system is used, it is

really simpler than pounds, shillings, and pence, and one soon becomes

accustomed to it, though for some time one fears that one is paying too

much, especially as prices for small articles are often higher in

Canada.

Peeps at Many Lands: Canada · 第 3 / 16 章