I cannot describe how greatly we were shocked at the changed appearance of your youngest brother. In spite of his present happiness as a married man, he bore in his whole appearance the marks of the hardships he had gone through. He had left us, only a year before, in France in high health and spirits, expecting to find in America, and especially in New York, an El Dorado where he might easily employ his little capital to advantage. We found him now fearfully thin, his handsome face pinched and worn, and looking certainly ten years older than his brother, fully five years his senior. In some future letter I must give you a sketch of his many misfortunes, his failure in New York, and subsequent settlement in Muskoka, together with the amusing account of his marriage given me by your sister F.
My first employment in the Bush was to write to my lawyer, entreating a further advance of money, and to some kind friends who had already helped us for the same purpose.
As soon as this necessary work was finished, I began to look about me, both outside and inside of the log-house. I found that it was placed in the centre of a very small “clearing” of not more than half an acre; and the very sight of the dense forest circling us all round, with hardly any perceptible outlet, gave me a dreadful feeling of suffocation, to which was added the constant alarm of fire, for the dry season had made every twig and leaf combustible.
Had it not been for these drawbacks, I should greatly have admired the situation. An amphitheatre of rock behind the house, wooded to the very top, and the trees tinged with the glowing hues of autumn, was very picturesque; and the house itself, built upon an eminence, seemed likely to be dry and comfortable. The house inside was simply one tolerable-sized room, which, like the cobbler’s stall in the nursery ballad, was
“Kitchen, and parlour, and all!”
It was built of rough, unhewn logs, chinks of wood between the logs, and the interstices filled up with moss. There were two small windows, and a door in the front. The size of the house, eighteen feet by twenty-five.
When your brother-in-law’s logs for his house were cut, he called a “raising bee,” which is the custom here. Fourteen of his neighbours responded to the call. This is for building up the walls of the log-house. Strength and willingness are most desirable at “bees;” but for the four corners, which have to be “saddled,” skill is likewise requisite, and, therefore, four of the best hands are always chosen for the corners.
“Saddling” is cutting out a piece at the corner of each log, so that the end of each succeeding log, when it is raised, rests in the niche prepared for it, and thus the building, when finished, is as firm as a rock. Nothing is paid for the assistance given, but good meals are expected; and sometimes these “bees” are quite festive meetings, where the wives and daughters of the settlers wait at table, and attend to the wants of the hungry visitors. At a “bee” which your brother attended some time ago, all the young women were in their Sunday attire.
At your brother-in-law’s “bee” the female element was entirely wanting, and two or three little things went wrong; but excuses are always made for the ignorance of a new settler, and in subsequent meetings the fare has been better, and full satisfaction given.
In the centre of each log-house stands out, hideously prominent and ugly, a settler’s stove, with a whole array of pots, pans, and kettles belonging to it, which, when not in use, are mostly hung up on the walls, certainly not conducing to their ornamentation. Your sister, always fertile in expedients, hangs a curtain before these unseemly appendages; but my lively imagination pierces behind the veil, and knowing they are there, gives me a feeling of irritation and disgust which I cannot describe.