"Nine! That bit of beef will be nothing, cut into steaks for nine.
What's to be done, Joe?" (to the old man.)
"Eggs and ham, summat of that dried venison, and pumpkin pie,"
responded the aide-de-camp, thoughtfully. "I don't know of any
other fixings."
"Bestir yourself, then, and lay out the table, for the coach can't
stay long," cried the virago, seizing a frying-pan from the wall,
and preparing it for the reception of eggs and ham. "I must have
the fire to myself. People can't come crowding here, when I have
to fix breakfast for nine; particularly when there is a good room
elsewhere provided for their accommodation." I took the hint, and
retreated to the parlour, where I found the rest of the passengers
walking to and fro, and impatiently awaiting the advent of
breakfast.
To do Almira justice, she prepared from her scanty materials a very
substantial breakfast in an incredibly short time, for which she
charged us a quarter of a dollar per head.
At Prescott we embarked on board a fine new steam-boat, William
IV., crowded with Irish emigrants, proceeding to Cobourg and
Toronto.
While pacing the deck, my husband was greatly struck by the
appearance of a middle-aged man and his wife, who sat apart from
the rest, and seemed struggling with intense grief, which, in spite
of all their efforts at concealment, was strongly impressed upon
their features. Some time after, I fell into conversation with the
woman, from whom I learned their little history. The husband was
factor to a Scotch gentleman, of large landed property, who had
employed him to visit Canada, and report the capabilities of the
country, prior to his investing a large sum of money in wild lands.
The expenses of their voyage had been paid, and everything up to
that morning had prospered them. They had been blessed with a
speedy passage, and were greatly pleased with the country and the
people; but of what avail was all this? Their only son, a fine lad
of fourteen, had died that day of the cholera, and all their hopes
for the future were buried in his grave. For his sake they had
sought a home in this far land; and here, at the very onset of
their new career, the fell disease had taken him from them for
ever - here, where, in such a crowd, the poor heart-broken mother
could not even indulge her natural grief!
"Ah, for a place where I might greet!" she said; "it would relieve
the burning weight at my heart. But with sae many strange eyes
glowering upon me, I tak' shame to mysel' to greet."
"Ah, Jeannie, my puir woman," said the husband, grasping her hand,
"ye maun bear up; 'tis God's will; an sinfu' creatures like us
mauna repine. But oh, madam," turning to me, "we have sair hearts
the day!"
Poor bereaved creatures, how deeply I commiserated their grief - how
I respected the poor father, in the stern efforts he made to
conceal from indifferent spectators the anguish that weighed upon
his mind!
