"And though thou art busiest with small things,
Though menial thy labor may be,
Do thy utmost in that, and in all things
Thou still shall be noble and free.
Be to every man just, and to woman
Be gentle, and tender and true;
For thme own do thy best, but for no man
Do less than a brother should do.”

—Jem Ingelow.

OH! what a cleaning, scrubbing, and general grubbing out of holes and corners we had after the departure of Mrs. Derrigan and all her possessions. Did I say all her possessions? Well, that’s not so, for she left enough old rubbish to fill twenty dust-bins; we girls thought we would never finish carrying out the old shoes, old clothes, bushels of old papers, and dozens of empty bottles, she left behind her. Then we

started cleaning; father did the painting, mother unpacked her stores and brought out curtains and covers, cushions and tablecloths. We made washstands and dressing tables out of the old packing-cases covered with muslin. We tried to spread out our belongings to their farthest extent, yet, do our utmost, we had to buy some furniture before we could get boarders, and where was the money to come from, for we had reached the bottom of our purse.

Mother’s resources were not exhausted yet, though. She had made the acquaintance, through buying some small articles at his store, of a furniture dealer on Queen Street West. He was an Englishman, but had been in Canada many years and got on well, To this man mother resolved to go and, laying the case before him, ask if he would supply the needed furniture and accept payment for it in monthly instalments. There was no Adams Furnishing Company in those days and it was very hard for strangers to obtain credit, but I feel sure mother’s honest face made such an impression on the man that he quite willingly acceded to her request, and once more the Hathaway family were on their legs, and started on a fresh race for fortune. We soon got our first boarders. Most of those we did get stayed, and in the fail we had a party of young men students come, five of them, who remained with us all winter, part of them returning the next year.

Amongst one of our first boarders was a fine intelligent looking young Englishman, ir. whom my father was particularly interested, for he had just come from Muskoka. His name was John Roberts. He had come out from England two years previous with some friends of his, a young couple named Barton, who had taken up land on the shores of Lake Joseph and built a decent log house there. Unfortunately Mr. Barton had the seeds of consumption strongly rooted in his constitution before leaving England, and though he had picked up for awhile in the pure air and pine woods of Muskoka, it was too late to do more than prolong his life, and now' he had become so sick that, bringing his young wife and child with him, he had come to 'I oronto to die. They had engaged rooms and were now living not many doors from us, and, naturally, we all soon became very much interested in them and their sad story.

Mr. Roberts was often with his sick friend, and took my father to see him, and, to make a long story short, in the course of a few weeks an arrangement was made between my father and Mr. Barton by which his house and land on Lake Joseph were rented to my father for three years, the agreement being that so many more acres—I think it was five—should be added to the clearing every year. My father thought by taking up some of the adjacent lots for himself he would be enabled to make a small clearing and build a shanty on his own land before the expiration of the three years.

My father did not intend going to Muskoka till the following spring, so we had the winter altogether in our new home with the exception of my brother Joe, who had gone to a farmer’s in the country.

Shortly before Christmas I was fortunate enough to obtain a good situation in a store on Yonge street, and here I remained for many years, and was able to be of some little help to my dear father and mother in several ways. I was always at home on Sundays, and very happy times we had. The memory of those Sunday evenings in the old boarding-house wi!l never pass away. As tor mother’s boarders, we can truly say we were brought into close contact with “all sorts and conditions of men,” bad, good and indifferent. It is rather hard on our own sex to say that after a little experience mother preferred gentlemen to ladies as boarders. I believe, too, from what I have heard since, that this preference is very widespread ; so, ladies, you must look out for your laurels ; it will never do to let men get ahead of us in that style.

We found out something else, too, by experience, and that was the fact that far worse than people “just out from England” are those who are always “expecting money from England.” I can only warn the unwary, if there are any of this class round town nowadays, “of such beware, they are fooling thee.”

My sisters being young, lively, and good-looking, it naturally followed that they soon had their admirers amongst the young men, and there was lots of fun. Sue, who was always reckoned the beauty of the family, was also the greatest flirt, and the way she pulled the strings to make those manly puppets dance was a caution. She made good use of them, too. She had her writs about her. Their fetching and carrying powers were made to lighten her share of the domestic work in more ways than one. I was considerably amused at the way they ran around for her—up and down stairs, with coal-scuttles, pails of water armfuls of wood, tending their own stoves, riddling their own cinders; I believe in one or two badly-gone cases -it even went as far as making their own beds, all this in the hope of winning one smile or word of thanks from the fair Sue. They brought her flowers in the summer time, too; they took her skating and sleigh-riding in the winter; they fairly fought amongst themselves for her favours, like the lion and the unicorn fighting for the crown, but so far the motto of the lovely Sue had been, “A fair field for all and favors to none.”

It was otherwise with Bet, and from the appearance of things her heart was in great danger of passing out of her own possession into that of a young Englishman who had boarded with us all winter. He was alone in Canada, and I think it is when in distant countries we meet one of our own land the tie of nationality seems the strongest, and our hearts go out in good-fellowship towards our fellow exiles.

It struck us as very remarkable, when we first arrived here, how the different societies w'ere formed by the different countrymen—“Sons of England,” “Orangemen,” “St George’s Society,” no end of them. This is all very well, but I think where the newly-arrived in this country make their mistake is in so continually bragging up their own land and disparaging Canada. Have they not come here (generally speaking) because they could not succeed at home, and were in hopes by coming they would better their condition, which they nearly always do? Why, then, should they so disgust the “Canucks” with their continual growling and grunting about this “blawsted country ” and all it contains.

I think it is greatly owing to this grumbling spirit on their part that the feeling I was speaking of previously against new arrivals has arisen.

“They do blow so,” I have heard Canadians say, “and are so dead struck on themselves and their own way of doing things that we can make nothing of them.”

Well, I don’t want you to suppose that Bet’s young man was of this stamp. He seemed made up of nothing but good temper and jollity. No cloud ever seemed to overshadow his sun. He was always bright and happy. He was earning a good livelihood, and the affair between him and Bet looked as if it might end seriously. As for my dear mother (I must say a few words of my mother again here), nothing, I suppose, pleased her so much as to see her daughters appreciated. We were all swans to her, dear soul, though to others we may only have appeared the commonest of ducklings. How true the saying that a mother lives her own life over again in that of her daughters, and takes more pleasure in seeing their happiness than ever she did in her own.

But spring was coming. My father was in better health and spirits with the budding of the leaves. His longing to be up and doing returned in full force. We had come through the first winter in Canada and conquered many of the hardships which are inseparable from the lot of the stranger of straitened means on first arriving in this land. But now father was looking forward, with renewed health and spirits, to the time when he should possess a home and farm of his own. Little Ben, now twelve years old, was wild to go with him, and mother at last consented. So preparations were made and in the month of May they started for the north. Muskoka, at last, say my readers; yes, after this long preamble and explanation, Muskoka at last.