Thursday, October 2, 1902
Autumn is here. It even feels like winter. The snow stays on the ground most of the time and the mountains are crowned with it, even the lower ones. The wind cuts into you like a butcher knife. It makes my face ache.
Davy likes playing in the snow until he gets too cold and wet. Then he starts to wail. This happens in no time flat. It is infuriating to get him into warm clothes and take him out and then, in about five minutes, he puts his arms up to be taken back in.
He is walking a little better every day. He totters two or three steps and then down he plunks. But he never hurts himself and he gets up and staggers on again. He’s saying more, but it is still hard to understand him.
I do wish Olivia would help me with him sometimes. I love him but he is a nuisance all the same. Now he is walking a bit, it is much harder. You can’t count on his staying where you left him. And he is growing heavy. Father said he would.
Tuesday, October 7, 1902
Somebody mentioned Christmas today. It gives me a funny feeling thinking of spending Christmas here in Frank. It is less than three months away, though.
Mrs. Mutton is starting to plan her Christmas baking. She told me that she makes certain things every year, but always makes one dish she has never tried before. She has not yet decided what it will be this time. Last year, she made a fancy kind of braided bread.
Thursday, October 9, 1902
At school today I spelled down the whole class in our spelling bee. Bird says I should have seen the look on Priscilla’s face. She has been the champion up to now. Bird heard the others talking about it. Mary Ruth was not thrilled either. But she does not like Priscilla much, so she did not mind her losing out.
Do I sound smug? It is because I am!
Tonight I was reading my poetry book and I found a funny little poem I loved. I read it out loud to Mother. It is by Emily Dickinson and it goes something like this.
I’m Nobody. Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
How dreadful – to be – Somebody
How public – like a Frog –
Telling his name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog.
When I finished reciting it, John burst out laughing. “That’s pretty funny, coming from you, Abby,” he said. Then he went banging out the door.
“What does he mean?” I asked Mother.
She shot an angry look after John and shook her head. I waited for her to answer my question but she didn’t. “The part about the frog is lovely,” she said instead. “Emily Dickinson always says so much in so few words. Do you know the one that starts, ‘I never saw a Moor …’?”
I didn’t so she recited it to me. Then I told her how Miss Wellington had asked Olivia to play the organ at the Christmas concert and she said she would. Mother was pleased as punch. “She’s starting to belong here,” she murmured. I guess she is, but I still wonder what John meant. I was going to ask Mother again, but she got up and left the room, so I had to let it go.
Friday, October 10, 1902
Davy is more independent now. He does not need me for everything. For instance, he can take off his socks without any help. He can feed himself bread and butter too, although he smears the butter all over his funny face.
Harvest Home, October 12, 1902
Mrs. Mutton has made pumpkin pies. Thirteen of them! Pumpkin is my very favourite pie. The other thing I love is not the turkey but the dressing that goes inside it. Yummm!
Monday, October 13, 1902
Hallowe’en will be coming up before too long. I wonder if they do the same things here that we did in Montreal. Davy might be old enough to enjoy it more if they have jack-o’-lanterns and candy. Back in Montreal we ducked for apples too. He was in bed and didn’t know about it. We couldn’t make a big celebration out of it because of Father not liking that kind of thing. He didn’t mind our making fudge and taffy one bit, though. Mother said he had a sweet tooth, and that was certainly true.
Friday, October 17, 1902
There’s a lot of studying to do at school these days. I don’t have anything much I want to write about. Dulcey just came up and licked my hand in a comforting way. She seems to sense our moods. Her tail waving is extremely cheering.
Sunday, October 19, 1902
Miss Wellington has started making plans for December. She told us today that our class will put on a Christmas play. The other students will be singing carols and giving recitations. But she wants us to act out a Christmas story. It is a nice one about a cobbler who wants Jesus to come to his house for supper. We have to start thinking about it because there will be costumes to make or find and parts to memorize. It seems early to start planning, but it is easy to see that Miss Wellington loves putting on plays and decorating and so on. The class is as pleased as she is.
Connor is going to play the part of the cobbler. I am going to be a beggar woman he helps. It is lovely.
Mother will make my costume. She says she is glad I am not an angel this time. Beggar women are much easier. No wings. In Montreal, our Sunday School dressed up as an angel choir and Olivia’s wings were a big problem. They kept falling off.
Friday, October 24, 1902
I couldn’t write in my notebook the last few days. I had to write an essay for Miss Wellington. There are rules to writing an essay. I usually enjoy writing, but not this time. Maybe it was because I did not like the topic. It was supposed to be about the difference between Pity and Sympathy. Whatever I wrote sounded dull.
Monday, October 27, 1902
Mrs. Mutton is teaching me to cook. Mostly I have enjoyed it, but this time it seemed like hard work. We were making Christmas puddings. By the time we were halfway through, I felt worn out. Last time, we had fun.
To tell you the truth, I am feeling limp lately. When I wake up, I just lie there and ache. And I start wanting to go to bed in the middle of the afternoon.
I haven’t told Mother. I do hope I get over feeling this way. It is as though I am dragging a big burden along wherever I go, only the burden is myself.
Tuesday, October 28, 1902
Today it really feels like winter. Much colder for October than it was in Montreal. We have a lot of people coming for the next couple of days. I wish so many of them wouldn’t decide to stay here at once. I don’t suppose they ever think of the beds to be made and the food to prepare and the dishes we have to do. When there’s a crowd of them, they have a fine time, but we are worked off our aching feet. And Aunt Susan says we have to keep smiling however irritating they are!
I do feel sick.
Wednesday, October 29, 1902
I don’t feel like writing anything. I think I might be getting a cold. I hope I am wrong about this.
Friday, October 31, 1902
It’s Hallowe’en but I’m in bed already and it is only half past eight. Yesterday Bird and I made Davy a jack-o’-lantern, which he loves. But tonight I can’t do more. Maybe John will do one of the other pumpkins. There are four faceless ones lined up on the verandah. I feel as blank as they look.
Also my throat is really sore and I can hear a rattling in my chest. I am rumbling like Turtle Mountain. Bird has noticed, of course, but nobody else. She says I must tell Mother, or she will. Sometimes she is almost as pushy as Mary Ruth.