MISSIONS AND MUD HOLES
When we arrived at Rosetown the vicar and his wife were out, as they did not know what time to expect us; but we found the vicarage door unlocked, as is the hospitable local custom, so we went in and read the letters from home which we knew were awaiting us there. Mr. and Mrs. M. soon arrived, and gave us a very warm welcome. They insisted on our sleeping in the house instead of in the van, and having our meals with them. We said that in that case they must let us help with the chores. Mrs. M. had a tiny baby and no domestic help. Here, as elsewhere, our host and hostess were delighted to meet anyone fresh from England. Mr. M. had worked on the Railway Mission, and was now in charge of this district. A Canadian "parish" is often 2,000 or 3,000 square miles in extent. Mr. M. had a rural deanery of 6,000 square miles, and as many of his clergy were in deacon's orders, he had to perform all priestly duties for them. He used a Ford car in the summer, and in the winter took the tyres off a motor bicycle and fixed it up to run on the rail of the track. The prairie being so flat, he could see the trains in time to get out of the way.
When talking to men like this we realised that our summer adventures were as nothing compared with what they experienced in the winter, with the thermometer 50 degrees below zero and blinding blizzards in which it was impossible to find one's way. This life of hardship and self-sacrifice won the respect of their parishioners and developed their own manhood. The farmers looked upon them as personal friends, fellow-men, instead of the remote being a clergyman is sometimes assumed to be. They are all-round men of affairs, too, as Winifred put it: "Out here a parson has to know about seeds and weather and dollars, but he is respected also for his office, and valued very much for what he brings to the people."
For the most part the men out here are the pick of the junior clergy from Oxford and Cambridge, men who have sacrificed much in leaving England. The clergy depend upon voluntary contributions, there being no endowments, of course. It is reckoned that in the diocese of Qu'Appelle the average contribution for each man, woman, and child is 15s. per head. They use the envelope system, so that if prevented from attending church the money is set aside just the same. Besides this, the farmers give generously in kind. But, as a clergyman's wife remarked to me, butter and eggs, though very welcome, do not supply clothes for the children. The drawback to the voluntary system is that the clergyman's income is as uncertain as that of his parishioners; for when the harvest fails there is no money for anyone. The Railway Mission clergy received monetary support from the Fund, but this Mission was only a temporary arrangement until the various districts became self-supporting. There is, however, a diocesan fund to help the poorer parishes. Though the parishioners do their best it is obvious that they can never provide more than a scanty support for a clergyman who has a wife and family, and hence the great difficulty in filling the Canadian theological colleges.
The Rosetown Sunday School was in a flourishing condition, for the vicar was very keen. The children were taught to sing by a lady who had been accompanist to Clara Butt. On the Monday it had been arranged that I should take a Bible-class of elder girls, but when Mr. M. took me down to the house where it was to be held, we found that none of the girls had come (owing to school examinations), so we went to the movies instead!
There is a splendid picture palace in every little prairie town, and some of the films shown are really good. The cinema provides the sole recreation for the entire populace. On Saturday evenings there are long lines of cars all down the street, when the farmers and their wives come into town to shop and go to the pictures and meet each other.
I was asked to give a missionary address next day to the junior branch of the Women's Auxiliary.[6] This particular branch proposed to call itself "The Busy Bees," because the members intended to work so hard. I talked to the children about the "Hope of the World" picture, which seemed suitable to this country of many nationalities. Winifred remarked that it was a splendid country from the missionary point of view as "they see black and white and brown." Where this junior branch had been started the children were keen to join, just as every Canadian churchwoman seemed to belong to the Women's Auxiliary. From many years' experience as a secretary for S.P.G. one longed to see the Church of England follow Canada's example by directing all her missionary effort into one channel, and one wished that missionary fervour were as universal.
Just at the time when we had planned to start from Rosetown a tremendous thunderstorm came on, making the trails quite impassable for several days. The water cart which brought the town's drinking water from five miles away could not get in for three days, so we had very short rations. On the Thursday I determined to leave for Kerrobert, in spite of Mr. M. saying that no one ought to go out on such trails. I knew that if we did not start at once we should not get to Kerrobert by Sunday. The trails were indeed dreadful, about the worst we had ever seen. The half-dried mud was like putty. We had the Parsons' chains on, but even so we skidded from side to side and had to go on low gear all the time.
About a mile out of the town we came face to face with a large wagon and four horses, which refused to make way for us. The road was steeply graded, so that if you got off it you would slide down into the mud and water of the ditch. I pointed out that it was as awkward for us as it was for them, indeed worse, as they had horses. They replied that if we stuck they would pull us out, and making a dash for it I managed to get on the gradient and up again. But what was my horror to find, a little farther on, another great wagon left standing in the middle of the road. It appeared that they had taken the horses from this to help on the other wagon. There was nothing for it but to drive round it, and this time my luck failed and we stuck fast in the mud. One of my Parsons' chains had come off in the last place, we found.
I put on another chain with great difficulty, as the jack kept continually sinking in the thick mud. When I had finished I looked round for Winifred, and could not see her anywhere. I got the car out and waited. Still no Winifred. Feeling very anxious, I went off to a neighbouring farm and asked to be allowed to telephone. I then rang up Mrs. M. at Rosetown, but she had seen nothing of her. At last I saw her coming along the road. She had been to look for the lost chain, found it was broken and had got it mended in the town.