Lady's Life on a Farm in Manitoba — 13 - Letter 13

June 3rd.

If you happen to know of anybody coming out here, and so many do, and you would like to give A---- a present, I wish you would kindly send him a few table-cloths, dusters, towels, and pairs of sheets; in short any linen would be most acceptable as we are so short.

How these men managed when the linen went into Winnipeg to be washed, and was sometimes kept a month ere it came home, is a mystery.

These extra men living in the house have none.

They facetiously describe their ideas of dirt by saying, if the table-cloth, however filthy it might look, when flung against the wall didn't stick, it went on for another week;

if it stuck, was then and there consigned to the dirty-linen bag.

Since we have been here we have instituted a weekly wash, every Monday and Tuesday.

E---- and Mrs. G---- preside at the tub all day, and even then our sheets and towels often run short.

Every colonist ought to provide himself with two pairs of sheets, half a dozen towels, two table-cloths, and a few dusters; and as those things and his wearing apparel, if in use six months previously, are allowed into the country free of duty, they might as well bring them over as everything of that sort in Winnipeg is so fearfully dear I do not like buying anything there.

We sent for some unbleached calico the other day, worth twopence-halfpenny;

was charged twelve cents or sixpence a yard.

Besides the four yards of calico there were ten of bed-ticking, also ten of American cloth; and the bill was six dollars seventy cents, nearly seven-and-twenty shillings.

Everything is equally dear, the demand is so much greater than the supply.

Beef is tenpence to thirteenpence a pound, mutton about the same, bacon tenpence, pork tenpence, chickens four and twopence each.

We use a good deal of tinned corned beef; and very good it is, it makes into such excellent hashes and curries and is so good for breakfast.

A---- also wants a pair of long porpoise-hide waterproof boots sending out; they are quite an essential, as after the heavy rains water stands inches deep in our yards, and he has so much walking into the marshes.

In the spring, when the snow has melted, the "sloughs" or mudholes along all the tracks and across the prairie are so deep that horses and waggons are repeatedly stuck in them, and the men have to go in, often up to their waist, to help the poor animals out.

The only way sometimes to get waggons out is to unhitch the horses, getting them on to firm ground, and by means of a long chain or ropes fastened to the poles, pull the waggons out which as a rule have previously had to be unloaded.

The clothes these men wear are indescribable.

A---- at the present moment is in a blue flannel shirt, a waistcoat, the back of which we are always threatening to renew.

Inexpressibles somewhat spotty, darned, and torn, and, thanks to one or two washings, have shrunk, displaying a pair of boots which have not seen a blacking- brush since the day they left England.

Coats are put on for meals, to do honour to the ladies, but seldom worn otherwise.

The coarser and stronger the clothes are the better.

A----'s straw hat is also very lovely, it serves periodically for a mark to shoot at with the rifle on Sunday mornings, or when company come out from town.

We both of us feel much like our old nurse when we are doing our mendings, cutting up one set of old rags to patch another; but thanks to ammonia and hot irons, we flatter ourselves we make them almost look respectable again.

There is a half-breed called L'Esperance who lives about eight miles from here, on the banks of the Assiniboine; and one of our neighbours telling us the other day he had several buffalo robes to sell, we drove over to inspect them, and saw some real beauties for ten or twelve dollars; at the Hudson Bay stores, in town, they ask sixteen for them.

L'Esperance himself wasn't at home when we got there; but his wife, a fine, tall woman, speaking a peculiar French patois, showed us "around," also the pemmicain, which is buffalo-meat pounded, dried, and pressed into bags of skins, it keeping good for years in that way.

It looked nasty, but the children were chewing it apparently with great relish.

Whilst in the shanty we heard a great noise, and, running out, found our horse, which had either taken right or been stung by some fly, tearing past us with the buggy through the old lady's potato-field into the bush.

E---- tore after it, and in a few hundred yards came up to the horse standing trembling, and gazing at the shattered remains of our poor vehicle.

He had tried to turn the corner, when the whole thing capsized topsy-turvy, and he had almost freed himself of all the harness; luckily he was considerate enough not to have given that "one more struggle" which would have indeed settled the whole question, and obliged us to foot it on our ten toes home.

Curiously enough the shafts were not broken, but the splinter-bar was.

There was quite a procession back to the shanty, the half-breed woman and one girl dragging the buggy, one child carrying the cushion, another the whip and wraps, and E---- leading the horse.

We set to work to make good the damage as best we could, with thin strips of buffalo-hide, and started homewards;

but without buying our robes, not daring to add to our weight.

The man at the ferry-boat gave us an extra binding up, and by going cautiously we got home, though we feared every moment would be our last, as regards driving, as the bound-up parts creaked most ominously all the way, and we fully expected at every rough bit to go in half.

The horse is generally so quiet that we never mind where we leave him standing.

I luckily have just given A---- a new carriage, which will come in very handy.

It is to be a "democrat," double seats, and one long enough to be able to carry luggage.

These small buggies are beautifully light, but will carry next to nothing; and we always have difficulty in accommodating all our parcels every time we come out of Winnipeg.

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