We are both of us delighted to have come, the whole experience is
so new, and what we couldn't have realised in England; and I am
sure, in spite of the _bouleversement_ of the bachelor _regime_, it
is a great pleasure to the men we are here. Our Winnipeg acquaintances
tell us that A - - is quite a changed man, so cheery and even
bumptious, and that everything is now "What we do at the farm."
It is all very well, however, in the summer; if obliged to stay
through the winter, it would be quite another "pair of shoes." The
thermometer often registers forty degrees of frost, though the
effects of this extreme temperature in the dry exhilarating
atmosphere is not so unpleasant as might be imagined, but the
loneliness and dreariness of the prairie with two or three feet of
snow would be appalling. The cold is so great that you have to put
on a buffalo coat, cap, and gloves, before you can touch the stove
to light the fire, and notwithstanding the coal stove which is
always kept going in the hall to warm the up-stairs room (through
which the pipe is carried), the water in buckets standing
alongside gets frozen.
Then the blizzards, which are storms of sleet and snow driven with
a fierce wind, and so thick that it is quite impossible to get out
of doors, or see at all, would be too trying.
Even to get across the yard to the further stable the men have to
have a rope stretched as guide so as not to lose their way; and
these storms sometimes, as they did this last year, continue for
three weeks consecutively.
The snow on the prairie is never very deep, but it drifts a good
deal, and was to the depth of twelve feet on the west side of the
house.
No work can be done much in the winter on account of the cold and
snow, so that from the middle of April, when the snow begins to
go, until the beginning of October everything has to be rushed
through and as many hands put on as they can possibly get, who are
all discharged at the end of the summer and only two or three kept
to look after the animals. After threshing, these men have little
or nothing to do: digging out the well to water the horses,
teaming hay into the town on sleighs, and fetching timber over
from the other farm, is about their only outdoor occupation. All
the animals in the shape of horses, cows, pigs and chickens are
huddled together in the stables for warmth.
* * * * *
July 5th.
We have received our letters most unexpectedly to-day; two of our
gentlemen coming out last night from town brought sundry parcels,
newspapers, etc., but never thought of turning round to see if all
was safe in back of carriage, declaring it was such rough driving
they could only think of how to hang on and not be jolted out, so
that by the time they got home, letters, a horse-collar, spare
cushions, etc. were all gone. It was too late to send after them;
but one of the men started back at 3:30 this morning, finding most
of the lost things strewn broadcast over the prairie, even to
within a short distance of Winnipeg. He went on to feed and bait
his horses, at the same time enquiring for letters, finding ours
just come in, and which would have lain there until our next
opportunity.
Our variety to-day has been the absence of our cook, and we are
again left in charge, and we flatter ourselves the dinner was
"immense." Stewed-beef, rice, mushrooms, (of which some were
rather burnt, others not quite done enough, but that is a trifle),
yorkshire pudding (baking-powder making an excellent substitute
for eggs), and an apple tart. What more could you want? We are
quite ambitious now, and have curries, rissoles, etc. A - - used
to say he hoped, we should not expect either him or his friends
to eat our dishes, as they would have to go to bed afterwards for
at least three or four hours; but they very much appreciate any
change made in the _menu_.
We are longing to make bread, which takes up a great deal of our
factotum's time, as it has to be set over night and kneaded three
or four times the following day; but are begged to defer that
amusement until within a few days of our departure, as it would so
entirely upset our American trip if we had to attend A - - 's
obsequies. The bread is perfectly delicious, so light and so white
in colour. The flour is excellent. It is not made with brewers
yeast, but with a yeast gem dissolved in warm water, to which is
added a handful of dried hops boiled beforehand for about ten
minutes, and strained. To that is added a cupful of flour a
teaspoonful of salt, and one of sugar, and the whole is put into a
warm place to ferment; when fermented, which takes about twelve
hours, into a cool place, where it will remain good and sweet some
time.
_A Receipt for Bread-Making_.
Put ten large spoonfuls of flour in a breadpan, and add enough
warm water to make it into a thin batter, add half a pint of
yeast, mix well, and, having covered the bread-pan with a cloth,
put it in a warm place near the stove over night. During the night
it should rise and settle again.
