Labour Day
Monday, September 1, 1902
Today is my twelfth birthday. That’s why I am up so early. Are they remembering? Surely Mother will. But everything is so different here and everyone is so busy. She hasn’t mentioned it.
After breakfast, we are going back to the school with more things for Miss Wellington’s classroom. My ankle still twinges, which will give me an excuse to sit down sometimes.
I had just written that much when Mother slipped into my room and quietly wished me a happy day. She kissed me then and gave me a mechanical pencil to use when I write in my notebook. It is great! You don’t have to worry about upsetting the ink bottle or making blots.
We did not mention my birthday at breakfast. I told Mother I thought she had forgotten; she looked at me as though I was a stranger. Then she said, “Never would I forget my Abby.”
I asked her what time of day I was born, but she did not answer. When I asked again, she said she couldn’t remember. I can hardly believe this, but she left the room before I could press her.
Olivia said she was born at three in the afternoon. She sounded so smug that I changed the subject.
Afternoon
Mark has been hanging up pictures and maps for our class.
I am getting excited about coming here tomorrow as a proper pupil. Bird is too, although she is not letting it show. I think she’s afraid something will go wrong and she won’t be allowed to come after all.
I wish Davy could understand what will happen. He liked being there with us doing the cleaning and sorting. He unsorted things, but nobody minded.
While we stopped to eat our lunch sandwiches, I let out the news that it is my birthday. Everyone clapped and sang. It was lovely.
Then Miss Wellington made us come home early and she slipped out to the kitchen to speak to Mrs. Mutton. I should have guessed, but I didn’t. Luckily we had supper a bit late and, at the finish, in they came with an iced cake and candles and wished me a happy birthday.
Mrs. Mutton told me I should have said something earlier on and she could have made me a special cake. This was one she had ready for dessert, but when Miss Wellington told her what day it was, she made special icing and put in the candles.
I told her it was the proudest birthday cake I had ever had. I didn’t say that I did not have one at all before we moved to Alberta. Father did not believe in celebrating birthdays. “Gimmie, gimmie days,” he called them. Mother would quietly wish us a happy time, but Father acted as though it was the same as any other day.
Yet when I went to bed, there were two parcels on my pillow. One was from Aunt Susan. It is a beautiful blue scarf which she says matches my eyes. The other is a book of poems. It isn’t new. In the front Jemima Wellington is written in black ink. Miss W. has written in From over her name and then for Abby in blue ink underneath. Then it says Happy Birthday for a girl who loves poems. She must have heard me reciting the Robert Louis Stevenson poem about swinging when I was pushing Davy yesterday.
Anyway, I am now TWELVE! And I had a cake and presents! Davy is asleep so I can read poems before I put out the lamp.
Tuesday, September 2, 1902
First day of school
We started attending officially this morning.
Miss Wellington was already there when we clustered outside the classroom door. She smiled and said good morning to each of us as we arrived. I had Davy by the hand, but when he saw Bird waiting inside, he tried to trundle over to her. He managed a step before he had to crawl. I was glad and sad at the same time.
When the clock struck nine, Miss Wellington lined us up and took something from her pocket. We were astonished when she began to play a song on a mouth organ and we found ourselves marching into our classroom. She played “God Save the King” too. I still feel strange singing “king” instead of “queen.” Then we said The Lord’s Prayer and took our seats. I was going to school at last. It was hard to believe.
Bird and Davy have a table right behind my desk and Miss Wellington had put things there for them to do. There was a jar of big buttons to string on a shoelace. He loves doing it. When they are all strung, he takes them off carefully and starts all over. And Bird murmurs, “Good, Davy.”
Davy loved that. I wanted to hug her but I couldn’t, not at school.
Connor was there. So was Jeremiah’s cousin Mary Ruth and some other girls my age. Two of them are named Priscilla and Mildred. They looked sideways at Davy and poked each other. Jeremiah’s little sister Polly is the youngest in the class. Connor’s sisters are too young to come to school yet. But Connor sat right across the aisle from me. There is another small boy called Joseph who is extremely shy. He kept his head down and never spoke a word.
It was nice to see some familiar faces.
Davy, with Bird holding onto him, stood at the window gazing out, watching leaves fall from the schoolyard trees, as wide-eyed as he can get, softly making “oooh” sounds. He certainly was no trouble. Bird stayed right with him, looking serious and not meeting anyone’s eyes but mine.
After a bit, Miss Wellington quietly took her a book to read. It was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Bird’s face brightened. She moved so Davy was still steady and began to read Alice. We were all three of us totally happy.
When it was time for recess, Bird stayed with Davy but the teacher told me to go out and breathe some fresh air.
I’ll tell what happened then, later.
After supper
At recess, Mildred and Priscilla came up and began asking about Davy. They pretended they were interested, but really they were being mean. I tried to keep my face blank, but it was hard.
“What’s wrong with your brother?” Priscilla said in a sugary voice. “Why do his eyes slant like that?”
She was smiling but it was a put-on smile, not friendly.
I didn’t know what to say so I did not say anything.
“He must be foreign,” Mildred said. She smirked and gave Priscilla a jab with her elbow.
“Stop it, you two,” Mary Ruth told them.
I remembered she was Jeremiah’s cousin and I felt grateful, even though she did not smile at me. When I saw her in school today, I thought back to when we arrived in Frank. She was at the station to meet Jeremiah. She looked me over with eyes filled with questions, but she did not speak.
Jeremiah said, “Greetings, Mary Ruth. Why don’t you try saying ‘Hello’?” in a loud voice. But she went red and stepped aside with a swish of her long skirt. I wish he hadn’t teased her. She seems nicer than Mildred and Priscilla.
“Are those noises he makes meant to be words?” Priscilla asked, as though Mary Ruth had not spoken.
I longed to slap her face. I told them to watch what they were saying or I would report them to Miss Wellington.
“Teacher’s pet,” Mildred jeered.
“Quit that,” Mary Ruth snapped.
Priscilla sniffed and backed away.
Mildred tossed her head and announced that her mother would not like her being at school with a red Indian and a backward boy.
None of us had seen Miss Wellington come out. She stood silently listening. She did not speak until Mildred finished. Then she said in an ice-cold voice that she would go over to have a talk with Mildred’s mother as soon as school was dismissed.
“If they want me to stay and teach here,” she said quietly, “Davy and Bird will stay too.”
I knew from something Uncle Martin had said that getting a teacher to come to Frank had not been easy. I longed to cheer. Mildred went very red and said please don’t talk to her mother. She had not meant anything rude. She was sorry.
Mary Ruth moved so her back was turned toward Miss Wellington. Then she winked at me and grinned. I think I will get to like her even if she is a bit pushy. I think she enjoys being the boss. I wanted to wink back but I couldn’t. Miss Wellington would have caught me.
We all went back in and no more was said. I saw another teacher talking to Miss Wellington later, looking worried, but Miss Wellington just laughed.
Mother is giving Davy a bath, so I can keep on writing.
When school was over, Mark was waiting in front with the wagon to give us a ride home on our first day. It is a long way to lug Davy.
“We’ve got room for you, Mildred,” he called. She lives behind the hotel.
It is plain to see that she is sweet on Mark. (She’s not the only one.) She was a bit flushed, but she climbed in. Davy patted her arm. She was wearing a bracelet. “Ooooh!” he said, smiling at her. She started to snatch her arm away, but then she stopped herself and smiled back. It was a weak smile — but still, a smile.
I had schoolwork to do tonight. I have forgotten a lot. I had to review my times tables, for one thing, and study a list of Spelling words. Davy went to sleep early, which was a blessing.
When I was putting on my nightgown, Mother told me the teacher had said it was no trouble having Davy there with me today. I don’t think she told Mother about Pris and Mildred. I’m relieved. It would make Mother sad. And angry.
I just had a surprising thought. Could it be that Mildred is jealous of the extra attention Davy and I are getting and that’s what made her call me “teacher’s pet”. Miss Wellington is being awfully nice to us. I think she really likes Davy.
I did hear one other bit Miss Wellington said, which pleased me. “I believe it will make Abby’s life easier if she has her brother nearby,” she told Mother and Aunt Susan after supper. “Otherwise, she would be worrying about how he was getting along without her. She’s a fine sister, is Abby.”
I do try. It was nice to have someone notice.
Wednesday, September 10, 1902
Things are better at school now. What with homework, looking after Davy and helping to send and receive telegrams, I don’t have as much time to write in this journal though. Well, I am also reading more. Miss Wellington had some books sent out from her home and most of them I have not read. I am reading Black Beauty at the moment. It is wonderful, although it is heartbreaking at times. There are tear stains on some of the saddest pages.
I believe they are Miss Wellington’s and they are always on pages that have brought tears to my eyes too.
I planned not to write about the weather in Frank, but the wind here is not something you can ignore. Frank doesn’t have breezes. It has gales. You have to hold onto your hat at all times or you would lose it for sure. It also blows your skirt up, which is embarrassing. If I don’t have Davy in my arms and it is not too cold, it feels exciting sometimes. When I do have him, though, I’m afraid it may knock us flat. He isn’t afraid. He shrieks with glee when it slams into us.
Four Winds is a perfect name for a hotel in this town.
Friday, September 12, 1902
Bird is reading the Alice book now. She’s at the part where the playing cards come to life. Her mother won’t have any playing cards at their place. Bird says it has something to do with her father, but she is not sure what. We have lots at the hotel. When people stay overnight, they often play cards all evening. Olivia has learned to play pool and several card games. “A veritable card shark,” Uncle Martin called her. Mother is not sure it is something a young lady should do, but Olivia thinks she is just being old-fashioned. Uncle Martin stands up for my sister. I think the guests like it when she plays because she is not just pretty but she has such fun. She never showed this side of herself in Montreal.
Jeremiah likes playing games too. He and John are great friends even though John is so much younger, but I think, in his heart of hearts, it is Olivia that Jeremiah comes to see. I have watched his eyes follow her wherever she goes. I just wish Olivia appreciated him, but she is bowled over by a boy from outside Frank. He’s named Tony Minelli. He is too old for her and he’s incredibly conceited. Whenever nobody is watching, he poses in front of the hall mirror and combs his hair. Then he gives his head a little toss and smirks. It’s disgusting.
Olivia does not speak of him if Mother is nearby. She pretends to be busy with small chores, putting away napkins or straightening out the cutlery drawer. When Mother is not looking, though, Olivia slips out the back door and doesn’t come back for ages.
Mary Ruth told me that she has seen Tony taking other girls out when Olivia is doing dishes or hanging out laundry. She saw him kissing Mabel once.
I told John that and asked if I ought to tell Mother. But he just said to mind my own business. Yet I don’t think he knows Tony all that well. If he did, he might change his tune. I don’t like tattletales, but sometimes it is important that people know the truth.
Sunday, September 14, 1902
I went to church with Aunt Susan this morning. The singing was grand. It practically lifted the roof off. And I get a break from Davy. I shouldn’t say so, but I do need to escape once in a while. It is a relief just to be me instead of always the big sister.
Saturday, September 20, 1902
I’ve been too busy with school to keep you caught up. Also I wrote Miss Radcliffe a long letter. It took me three days to finish. She says she likes to know all the details of our life here.
I taught Bird to play Gin Rummy today. She feels guilty when she plays cards, but she does like playing and we don’t play for money, not even pennies.
Sunday, September 21, 1902
John told me today that he is getting a job in the mine. He has not liked doing fetch and carry kind of work at Four Winds. The guests order him around as though he isn’t a person or even a servant, so I don’t blame him for wanting to get away. But I wish he was not planning to try working in the mine. He’s only sixteen, but some of the miners are as young as that. The very idea scares me. I tried to talk him out of it, but he told me again to mind my own affairs. He can be maddening.
It is strange, but I can’t help worrying about him and Olivia, even though they don’t care about me much. He has started drinking. He does it because that’s what the men do. Not Jeremiah though.
I have heard Aunt Susan telling John what alcohol can do to a boy, but although he is polite to her, he goes right ahead when she isn’t paying attention. “It’s my life,” he mutters under his breath.
But yesterday there was a moment that made me forgive him. That woman with the obnoxious boys is staying here again and the really nasty one began to tease Davy.
He reached out when Davy was taking a teetering step and pushed him over on purpose. It was a real shove and Davy landed heavily and whacked his head on the floor.
I saw the whole thing happen and I wanted to smack the boy, but I couldn’t hit one of the guests. I picked Davy up and comforted him. He had never been treated so roughly and he was in tears.
Then all at once, in the middle of laughing loudly, the boy let out a yell, clapped his hand to his bottom and glared at John. “You kicked me!” he shouted.
John swung around and put on a so-sorry look. “I don’t believe I could have done such a thing,” he said. “It wouldn’t have been fair, not when you’re so much smaller than I am.”
I couldn’t help grinning. The rotten boy is over twice as big as Davy! Then John winked at me. And Davy, seeing me grin, laughed. It was perfect.
Monday, September 22, 1902
Tonight Uncle Martin said a strange thing to Aunt Susan. Mother had just called me to bring Davy to her to have his fingernails cut. I was halfway there when Uncle Martin glanced down over the banister and smiled at us. Then he went into the room where Aunt Susan was sorting out the clean laundry and I heard him say, “The day my father rescued that child was surely a lucky day for Eleanor.”
“Keep your voice down, Martin, for mercy’s sake,” Aunt Susan said.
Then one of them closed the door opening into the upstairs hall, and I could not hear their words any longer. I had gone up a few steps to try to listen, when Mother stuck her head out of her room and spotted us.
“Are you coming here so I can trim your brother’s nails or have you and he taken root out there?” she asked.
“We’re coming,” I said. I felt as though she had caught me eavesdropping. Well, she had.
Once I reached her, I wanted to ask what Uncle Martin meant about his father rescuing someone. But I didn’t. I don’t know why. I suppose it was because of the way Aunt Susan had closed the door and hushed him.
I watched Mother cutting Davy’s nails, and I pushed Uncle Martin’s words out of my mind until now that I’m by myself. It is still mysterious. Aunt Susan acted as if there were a secret they were supposed to keep. Secrets seem to pile up around me.
Saturday, September 27, 1902
I know, I skipped a few days. I am so busy right now. There are heaps of schoolwork. I write to Miss Radcliffe too. I help more in the kitchen now. I am becoming a good bread maker. Then there is Black Beauty waiting for me. Miss Wellington has another one I really want to read too. It’s called Nobody’s Boy. I don’t know why I like sad books so much, sad books with happy endings.