Give me some of that pig! You have eaten among you all the
fish, and now you are going to appropriate the best parts of the pig."
Tom raised his eyebrows, and stared at the stranger in his peculiar
manner, then very coolly placed the whole of the pig on his plate.
"I have heard," he said, "of dog eating dog, but I never before saw
pig eating pig."
"Sir! do you mean to insult me?" cried the stranger, his face
crimsoning with anger.
"Only to tell you, sir, that you are no gentleman. Here, Tim,"
turning to the waiter, "go to the stable and bring in my bear;
we will place him at the table to teach this man how to behave
himself in the presence of ladies."
A general uproar ensued; the women left the table, while the
entrance of the bear threw the gentlemen present into convulsions
of laughter. It was too much for the human biped; he was forced to
leave the room, and succumb to the bear.
My husband concluded his purchase of the farm, and invited Wilson
to go with us into the country and try if change of air would be
beneficial to him; for in his then weak state it was impossible for
him to return to England. His funds were getting very low, and Tom
thankfully accepted the offer. Leaving Bruin in the charge of Tim
(who delighted in the oddities of the strange English gentleman),
Tom made one of our party to - -.
THE LAMENT OF A CANADIAN EMIGRANT
Though distant, in spirit still present to me,
My best thoughts, my country, still linger with thee;
My fond heart beats quick, and my dim eyes run o'er,
When I muse on the last glance I gave to thy shore.
The chill mists of night round thy white cliffs were curl'd,
But I felt there was no spot like thee in the world -
No home to which memory so fondly would turn,
No thought that within me so madly would burn.
But one stood beside me whose presence repress'd
The deep pang of sorrow that troubled my breast;
And the babe on my bosom so calmly reclining,
Check'd the tears as they rose, and all useless repining.
Hard indeed was the struggle, from thee forced to roam;
But for their sakes I quitted both country and home.
Bless'd Isle of the Free! I must view thee no more;
My fortunes are cast on this far-distant shore;
In the depths of dark forests my soul droops her wings;
In tall boughs above me no merry bird sings;
The sigh of the wild winds - the rush of the floods -
Is the only sad music that wakens the woods.
In dreams, lovely England! my spirit still hails
Thy soft waving woodlands, thy green, daisied vales.
When my heart shall grow cold to the mother that bore me,
When my soul, dearest Nature! shall cease to adore thee,
And beauty and virtue no longer impart
Delight to my bosom, and warmth to my heart,
Then the love I have cherish'd, my country, for thee,
In the breast of thy daughter extinguish'd shall be.
CHAPTER V
OUR FIRST SETTLEMENT, AND THE BORROWING SYSTEM
To lend, or not to lend - is that the question?
"Those who go a-borrowing, go a-sorrowing," saith the old adage; and
a wiser saw never came out of the mouth of experience. I have tested
the truth of this proverb since my settlement in Canada, many, many
times, to my cost; and what emigrant has not? So averse have I ever
been to this practice, that I would at all times rather quietly
submit to a temporary inconvenience than obtain anything I wanted
in this manner. I verily believe that a demon of mischief presides
over borrowed goods, and takes a wicked pleasure in playing off
a thousand malicious pranks upon you the moment he enters your
dwelling. Plates and dishes, that had been the pride and ornament of
their own cupboard for years, no sooner enter upon foreign service
than they are broken; wine-glasses and tumblers, that have been
handled by a hundred careless wenches in safety, scarcely pass into
the hands of your servants when they are sure to tumble upon the
floor, and the accident turns out a compound fracture. If you borrow
a garment of any kind, be sure that you will tear it; a watch, that
you will break it; a jewel, that you will lose it; a book, that it
will be stolen from you. There is no end to the trouble and vexation
arising out of this evil habit. If you borrow a horse, and he has
the reputation of being the best-behaved animal in the district,
you no sooner become responsible for his conduct than he loses
his character. The moment that you attempt to drive him, he shows
that he has a will of his own, by taking the reins into his own
management, and running away in a contrary direction to the road
that you wished him to travel. He never gives over his eccentric
capers until he has broken his own knees, and the borrowed carriage
and harness. So anxious are you about his safety, that you have not
a moment to bestow upon your own. And why? - the beast is borrowed,
and you are expected to return him in as good condition as he came
to you.
But of all evils, to borrow money is perhaps the worst. If of a
friend, he ceases to be one the moment you feel that you are
bound to him by the heavy clog of obligation. If of a usurer, the
interest, in this country, soon doubles the original sum, and you
owe an increasing debt, which in time swallows up all you possess.
