“Where brief sojourners in the cool, soft air Forget their inland heats, hard toil and year long care.”

— Whittier.

I WILL again pass over two or three years of our family history, just touching lightly the main incidents which have since befallen us. In Muskoka my father had cleared up considerably more of his land and built a barn, but there were no available funds for building a better house, so he still occupied the shanty. In Toronto my mother still lived in the same house, though Winnie and Sue were both married.

Winnie’s wedding was the first one and she had the two little “Nancys,” the blonde and brunette, as her bridesmaids. A sweetly pretty group they were, too, and as it was in June there were heaps of roses and flowers, and the little maids had immense bouquets, nearly as large as themselves. The newly-married pair went to their woodland home in Muskoka after the marriage.

The following year Sue made up her mind, too, and amongst her numerous followers decided on one. and took him for better or worse. The little bridesmaid’s services were again in requisition, so now I had three brothers-in-law. The last one, James Marsden, we always reckon as the “smart man of the family.” Bet boasted that her husband was the best tempered; Winnie’s husband was the oldest; Sue's was the smartest, so they each had something to be proud of. Sue's new home was to be in Toronto, and is so still. It is, and has been for years, the headquarters for all the Muskoka relations when they visit the city, and good-natured Sue acts as our general business agent, for scarcely a week passes but she has some commission for somebody, poor girl She is what you might call a “general convenience” to the Muskoka tribe.

At the time of which I am writing people were just beginning to discover the advantages of the Muskoka Lakes as a place of summer resort, and visitors were becoming more numerous year by year. The accommodation for these strangers was, however, very limited. There was one hotel at the head of Lake Rosseau, one at Port Cockburn (the head of Lake Joseph), another at Port Carling, and I think this was all. The homes of the settlers were, as a rule, small and roughly finished and furnished with little except children; of the latter the supply was unlimited Summer cottages were almost unknown, so it was becoming a serious question where to put the visitors when they did come.

My mother, I think, was the first one to conceive the idea o building a large boarding-house for tourists. She used to talk to Mr. Roberts when he was down on a visit to the city. He was, even then, a firm believer in the future of the Muskoka Lakes, and though these talks might have led to nothing, an event happened at this time which caused them to take a definite shape. This was the death of my grandfather at the old homestead in England, in consequence of which my father came into possession of a sum of money which would go a good way towards carrying out the plans in mother’s mind.

My father, too, saw the wisdom of the idea, and foresaw that in the near future there would be more money made in Muskoka by boarding the summer visitors than by farming. Of course the season was short— just the months of July and August—and though the rush all at once would make the work more arduous for the time being, there remained the long winter and spring months when they would be entirely at liberty, could shut up their house and leave it to take care of itself while they came down and visited those of their children who lived in the city. It was decided then to start building the big boarding-house in the spring. It was big to us at that time, and when complete would accommodate about fifty guests. Father did not hope to get it entirely finished and furnished, too, the first summer, but he thought he would have it so far advanced as to enable him to take a few tourists to start with about the middle of July.

Accordingly, as soon as navigation opened and the frost was out of the ground, the foundation was dug and the work began. The building was a plain and barn-like structure of two and a-half stories, very different to the ornate and varied buildings of the present day. There seemed to be but one model for Muskoka houses in those days, and that was the plain and homely barn with an added verandah. But in the eyes of the Hathaway family it was a palace indeed. I did not see it until nearly completed, but in the beginning of July I was granted, by my kind employer, a whole month’s holiday in order that I might go up and help with the cleaning, fixing and general preparation for opening the new house. My mother had decided not to move from her Toronto home until the following spring, so of course she could not be with us. So Bet and I, therefore, were entrusted with full charge of the opening ceremonies.

This was the occasion of my second visit to Hathaway’s Bay. and very glad was I to see it once more. I found the new house looking in anything but a habitable state, neither doors nor windows in, and hammering and sawing going on briskly in every direction.

“I do not see what we can do for the present in the cleaning line,” I said to father that night, as I sat talking to him in the shanty.

“Oh, well,” he replied, “we are not quite ready for that; but a few days more work and things will look very different. Even if we are not ready till the first of August, we may get some late-comers and make a few dollars, perhaps; but we shall see.”

You may he sure Bet and I took advantage of this respite for the next few days from the broom and scrubbing brush exercise which we had been looking forward to, and we made up our minds to have a good old time while we could. We had Winnie now to go and see, and more than Winnie, too, for there was a lovely little blue-eyed baby there, and we set off next morning to visit her. She lived in a little cottage in' the midst of the woods, about a mile from my father’s place, and even in the short time she had lived there had converted her surroundings into a bower of flowers. She had a small verandah shaded with Virginia creepers, and here, sitting on the floor, we found the baby. Winnie came running out when she heard our voices, delighted to see us once more and bear all the Toronto news.

After admiring the boy, who was a little more than a year old and named John Hamlet (we had to have a Shakespearian name, of course), though it wras familiarly shortened to “Letto”— as Winnie laughingly said one John or Jack either was enough for her—we went indoors to View the interior of her domain, leaving the baby on the verandah. Winnie said she generally left him there the whole morning while she was about her housework. He was just beginning to creep.

Winnie used to tether him with a piece of string tied round his waist and fastened to a nail in the floor, so that he could not crawl off the verandah. About four or five feet was the limit of his peregrinations, and it was laughable to see him when first set down and secured. He would start off on hands and knees at a racing speed, and then suddenly would be brought up short to his intense astonishment; then, with renewed energy, he would start again in another direction, to be brought once more to the same sudden stop. Winnie said he was always putting any small things he could lay his hands on through the knot-holes in the verandah floor, and in that way she kept losing her thimbles, spools, buttons, etc. While she was telling us this a piercing shriek from the baby made us all rush out to see what had happened. Winnie fell down on her knees beside him, and he clung to her, screaming evidently nearly scared out of his wits. We gazed round, but nothing was to be seen that could have frightened him.

“What is it, my darling?” said Winnie, trying to soothe him, but he started back from her embrace and fixed his eyes with a most terrified expression on one of the largest knot-holes in the flooring.

Naturally we all looked in the same direction, and at that moment a cat’s paw come up through the hole, shook itself, and disappeared again. The baby gave another fearful yell of terror and buried his face in his mother’s gown. Up came the paw again and shook itself in the most playful manner. We shook, too, with laughing, as we helped Winnie to untie him and carry him indoors. The pussy cat had been under the verandah, and, atti acted by the light through the hole and the little fingers poking at it, evidently wanted to have a game at play.

The baby never forgot his fright, though, and always avoided the spot. As soon as he could talk tie spoke of it with bated breath as “the great eye-scratcher's hole.”

Before- we left we arranged with Winnie that she should come over to father’s early the next morning and we would all go together to pay a visit to the Spencers, which we accordingly did. We carried the baby by turns, and I found the road had been somewhat improved since I paid my former memorable visit.

We found Mrs. Spencer looking as young and happy as ever, nursing the latest arrival, there had beer, two or three added to the family since I was there before. She was delighted to see us ail, and cordially invited us to stay awhile, which we were not sorry to do, for we were tired with our long walk. The younger children were indoors, and Mrs. Spencer had been fortunate enough to secure the services of a young girl, not long out from Ireland, who, though ignorant of the ways of this country as yet, was still willing and good tempered, and a great help with the little ones.

We told her we were going to do without servants this season; for the short time we should have the house open we thought we could manage. While we were chatting the aforesaid Irish maid came rushing into the room, greatly excited, but. seeing visitors, was making off again, when Mrs. Spencer, thinking something was amiss, called her back. “And plaze, ma am.” she burst forth, “and what do you think those child’her are afther doin’ now? Shrire if they havn't shtole the new ball of shtring masther was afther git-ting for the swate pays, and a whole paper full of nails, and have tied nearly iv’ry blissid hen on the nists, and shure the young rascals say they’re going to kape them there till they consint to lay. no mather, they says, if they all shtarves to dith fust.”

Mrs. Spencer hastily arose and, giving the baby to the girl, started off to investigate matters, and we, being curious, quickly followed her. Sure enough, when we got to the hen-house pandemonium reigned. There were about half a dozen hens securely tied on the nests, and the squawking, racket and dust were awful. They had strings to their legs, their necks, their wings and tails. The work had been most thoroughly done, and the strings were all secured at different angles by means of the nails.

The older children were proudly surveying their handiwork, and the younger ones capering around in great glee, shouting, “Now we shall have eggs, mother, lots of eggs!” “It was Ben Hathaway told us, yesterday,” broke in another one. "He said, ‘If your hens don’t lay, tie them on the nests till they do.’ So we have, mother, and they’re trying hard, but they’ll never get loose.” “Never get loose! Never get loose!” shouted the little ones in chorus, jumping up and down to emphasize the words. The scene was indescribably comic, and we laughed till our sides ached, but Mrs. Spencer scolded them roundly. “You bad children, run at once and get me a knife,” and she proceeded summarily to cut the strings, much to the disappointment of the children. “If Ben Hathaway told you such a thing he was just fooling,” she told them. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’ll do next. I never saw such children. Go along with you, every one,” and she led the way back to the house.

When, on our return home, we told Ben the joke, he fairly exploded. He had made the remark to the children as he was passing, just in fun, never thinking of them acting on it so literally.

When Sunday came (the men working on the building having gone home from Saturday night till Monday morning) we were looking forward to a pleasant day altogether, for Winnie and her husband were coming to dinner. Bet had concocted a very savory meat pie out of our last scraps of fresh meat, and, though it was not large, the smell was delicious, and we all gathered round the table with very good appetites, prepared to enjoy it. Just as father had put his knife in the pie, we heard a noise in the distance, bang! banging! like a heavy weight being dragged along. Bet ran to the little window and across the clearing she saw coming the whole Spencer family; Mrs. Spencer enthroned on an old stone-boat with her babies, drawn by the old horse, with Mr. Spencer at his head, the other juvenile members of the family careering wildly around.

When she heard who was coming, Winnie gave one despairing look at the meat pie, and shouted: “Down on your knees, every one of you, and pray that they’ve had their dinner!”

But it was all to no purpose; and though some of us were selfish enough to wish that we had dined just half an hour sooner, we had at least the satisfaction of seeing our precious pie eaten with great gusto and warmly praised by our friends, though Winnie said she never realized so sadly before the truth of the old proverb, “There’s many a slip twixt the pie and the lin.’’

This was the last of our holidays, for next morning father said we could commence scrubbing out some of the rooms in the new house. So, after breakfast, Bet and I went over there with our pails and brushes prepared for a good day’s work. The floors, we found, were in a terrible state with mortar and lime. Dear reader, has it ever been your lot, your miserable lot, I may say, to scrub out a new house which the plasterers have just left? If so, I am sure of your sympathy. We carried pails of water innumerable; we scratched and we scraped, we soaked and we scrubbed, and still we couldn’t get them clean. They did not look so bad when just finished, but when they were dry they seemed to suffer a relapse and an eruption of mortar again appeared on the surface, causing us sadly to conclude we would have to go over it once more.

However, all things come to an end, and we got through the ground floor at last and were commencing on the bedrooms, when, to our dismay, a party of four young men arrived by the evening boat and said they had heard we were ready for boarders and had come to stay. We hardly knew what to do. We did not like to send them away, and there was no means of getting them away till the next day. The worst feature of the case was that we had no mattresses, bedsteads, or bedding. These things had been ordered in Toronto, but had not yet arrived.

We explained this to our visitors, but they made light of the difficulty and seemed to have thoroughly made up their minds to stay where they were. So, after we had given them some supper and they had gone for a row on the lake, we held a rapid council of war as to ways and means of sleeping accommodation, which was our most serious trouble. At last we came to the conclusion that our best plan would be to give up the shanty to the young men and migrate ourselves to the new house, with ail the old clothes, coats and rugs we could muster, to make up a shake-down on the floor. Fortunately, we had an old lounge, and with this we could make a fairly comfortable bed for father, so we at once proceeded to carry it over. Our new boarders no sooner saw us with our burden than they came to our assistance, so we explained to them the arrangement we had made and they expressed themselves as quite satisfied.

After making up the beds for them in the shanty and fixing it up as comfortably as we could, we returned to the new house. Father and his lounge we arranged for in the large parlor, which we had scrubbed, but Bet and I had to retire to one of the upstairs rooms with its thickly mortared floor—I believe there was nearly as much mortar on the floor as on the walls, only not quite so evenly distributed. Well, on this lumpy, gritty floor poor Bet and I had to rest our weary bones, and try to seek a night's repose. We spread out the various articles of clothing we had secured, patted them into shape, divested ourselves of our garments, covered ourselves with an old table cover and—“sought our pillows,” I was going to say, and upon mature consideration I think that is the exact term to use sought our pillows, but no pillows did we find. Bet rolled up a piece of carpet into a miserable substitute, but the wretched make believe hastened to escape from us on the first opportunity, and after I did get to sleep I awoke with a fearful nightmare. One of the new arrivals had suddenly gone mad and was cutting off my right ear with a carving-knife. I awoke in a great sweat to find the side of my head resting on a hard knot of mortar, and my ear had a sharp attack of cramp in consequence. However, morning dawned at last, and we felt not the slightest inclination to be lie-a-beds.

How- fervently we kept wishing all the next day that the mattresses, etc., would come by the evening boat, but we were doomed to disappointment. People in Muskoka, I find, are used to disappointments of this kind on the boat’s part, they get hardened to it.

However, the boat brought us something we did not expect, and that was our dear old Sue. We could hardly believe our eyes when we saw her bonny rosy face smiling down at us from the deck of the steamer. How we hugged and kissed her when she stepped ashore and told us she had come to our assistance for a couple of weeks. We seized her parcels and bag, and, as we walked beside her to the house, plied her with questions about mother and everybody else in Toronto. Father was as delighted as we were when he saw her, and, of course, as soon as tea was over, we took her to inspect the new house. How large and imposing it looked to our fond eyes as we gazed upon it! Never was such a house before nor since!

There was one small drawback to our happiness that evening, that is, to mine and Bet’s. Our hearts sank when we thought of introducing Sue to our sleeping apartment; but as bedtime drew near there was no alternative, and we were forced to reveal to poor Sue the dreadful condition of things, so far as bed and bedding were concerned. Bet had tried her best to make the shake-down a little wider, so that it would accommodate three. She had hunted up another bundle of old clothes and added them to the conglomeration. I was condemned to sleep in the middle. I beg your pardon, did I say sleep? That was wrong, for it was mighty little sleeping I did that night. J think I dozed off once towards morning, for I remember when I opened my eyes in the faint light of the early dawn 1 saw poor Sue sitting up embracing her knees and trying to cover her poor cold feet with her nightgown. I believe she even shed a few tears and murmured, “I left my happy home for this.” But we gathered up the unfortunate bed, which had dispersed in every direction, and tucked her up and comforted her the best we could. Still we were all glad when it was time to arise. This was our last night of misery, though, for the next day the mattresses arrived, and our troubles on this score were, happily, a thing of the past.

The cleaning now proceeded at a rapid rate, for, including Sue, there were three of us to work. The visitors began to arrive at a rapid rate, too. As soon as a bedroom was cleaned and made ready it was occupied by some new arrival, and every day we dragged our mattresses into another mortary room, till the whole of them, thank goodness, were finished at last. I believe we slept by turns in every room in the house, and as it was before they had undergone the cleansing process you can imagine we had enough of mortar and lime to last us the rest of our lives.

Now, you will want to know something of our first boarders, but I think I will leave this till the next chapter.