by Jean Little
Davy takes the time.
Wednesday, February 4, 1903
Davy has a cold. He often has them, but this time Mother says I must leave him home and go to school without him. It worries me. There are so many people milling around at the hotel. I wonder if she has noticed how much harder it is to keep track of him now he both crawls and walks. He wanders off and sometimes gets lost.
Later
Davy was so happy to see me when I came home, but he is terribly snuffly with his cold. His poor little nose runs and is red as a cherry from being wiped.
Monday, February 9, 1903
Davy did get lost! I came home and waited for him to come trundling up to hug me but he didn’t. I could not find him. I called his name and then began to look for him, but I could not find him anywhere.
Then Mabel, Arabella’s sister, said he had been banging on the door so she had opened it to let him see it was too cold to play outside. Then someone called to her and she told him to come back in and went to see what they wanted. She was sure he had followed her in.
But he hadn’t.
First we started searching the hotel. We looked everywhere, but there was no sign of him. If only he had answered when we called!
Then it dawned on me that Mabel had not actually seen him since she let him out and I got everyone to come outside and start seeking in the grounds. We have him back now. He was half frozen, just lying in the snow where he must have fallen.
Olivia was the one who found him. She tripped over him and she actually picked him up and lugged him back to the hotel. She said she could not leave him to come back for help because he had no warm coat and he was turning blue and not moving. He was stiff with cold. But when he saw her leaning over him, he smiled at her. Then he said, “O.” When she told us this, she got tears in her eyes, remembering.
“He knew me,” she said. “His foot was caught under a branch or something and he couldn’t get free.”
“Of course he knew you,” Mother said and hugged her.
Getting him thawed out was painful for him. He sobbed. But he is in bed with me now, packed all around with hot-water bottles. He is warm as toast at the moment, but I am afraid he is going to be very ill. He just lies there wheezing. His eyes are shut but he is not asleep, and every so often he whimpers softly. Then he reaches out his hand and I take it in mine and kiss it and he smiles. But only a very weak smile. He seems far away. He is not exactly unconscious, but something like it. His breathing is uneven and hoarse. Dr. Malcolmson calls it “shallow.” Everyone is worried about him. I did not dream so many people cared for him, but they keep dropping by to see how he is.
Olivia comes most of all. She stands and looks down at him and then she looks at me. When our eyes met last time, she whispered, “I’m sorry, Abby. I thought I didn’t love him. But I do.”
If he wakes up while she is here, he says, “O.” It took us a while to know for sure that “O” stood for Olivia. He says so few words.
She loves it.
Wednesday, February 11, 1903
Davy has pneumonia. It is so strange that he did not get sick when I did, but now he is even sicker. The doctor has come several times — he lives just down the road. He listens to Davy’s heart and then he shakes his head.
“His heart is having a hard go of it,” he said. “I’m afraid he may not be able to pull through. I will help him all I can, but he’s very ill.”
I cannot imagine what life would be like without Davy. I won’t go to school until he is better, whatever anyone says. So far, nobody has suggested I leave him. It is because I can get him to settle down. Whenever I go out of the room for even a minute, he starts to cry.
Wednesday, February 18, 1903
I have been so busy nursing Davy that I did not notice the days passing but, miracle of miracles, he is almost well again. And we are over halfway through February. He slept a lot, which allowed me time to do my schoolwork. So I’m not so far behind.
Jeremiah gave Olivia a beautiful valentine. I think his sister Polly helped him make it. It says, Will you be my Queen of Hearts?
Olivia was so delighted that I think maybe she is forgetting Tony. She is holding her head up and singing again. While she’s working in the kitchen, she sings, and she’s getting the others to join in now and then. Today they were belting out “Alouette!”
Yesterday I caught John helping himself to a fistful of sugar cubes from the dining room. He tried to worm his way out of explaining, but I got the story finally. He’s made friends with Charlie, a horse at the mine, and he was taking the snack to him. He says he feels sorry for the horses who go into the dark mine. They live in there for long stretches, and they actually wear helmets to keep from being injured by falling chunks of coal. John looked sheepish when he told me there is something special about old Charlie.
I could not stop grinning after he had gone. Imagine my cold-hearted brother stealing sugar for a horse! It would not surprise me if Mark did such a thing, but John doing it is incredible.
Cousin Mark is smitten by a girl at last. Her name is Nancy and she’s really nice. A bunch of them go riding together, leaving me to take charge of the telegrams. I never have to worry about remembering the Morse Code now — I’m getting really good at it.
Friday, February 20, 1903
Everyone went skating after school today. I wish I could whiz about like Miss Wellington. Olivia is good too. I skate on my ankle bones. Mother bundles Davy up and takes him out to watch for a few minutes. He smiles, but he is still so quiet, not back to his old self.
Saturday, February 21, 1903
There are more people moving into Frank. It is interesting to meet people from so many places. They aren’t all Canadians or even British. A family from Finland came last week. There are still only six hundred or so people, but they make quite a crowd when a bunch of them come to a Sing. I asked Bird why her people never come and she just looked at me. Then she said in a tight voice, “You know why, Abby.”
And I do. I don’t understand it, but they would not be made welcome at one. I think Bird would be if she came by herself, but not if she brought others.
She was not comfortable at school at first. Connor and I were her friends from the beginning, but it took the others a while. Since Christmas, though, everything sort of shifted. She was simply Bird, and we were just us. Maybe that is all there is to it. You have to get to know the ones who seem different to begin with and then they don’t seem different any longer.
I want to go to her home some day, but I have not been invited. There are mixed-up feelings on both sides. But all that really matters is that Bird and I are best friends and we will make sure we keep it that way. I am missing her right now because she and her mother have gone home for the weekend.
Later
John sneaked me into the mine today when the shifts were changing to introduce me to Charlie. We had to be quick and whisper because it is supposed to be unlucky to let a female into a mine. But I had to go while Bird was away or she would be beside herself. Her grandfather has made her so terrified of being near Turtle Mountain.
Charlie is a nice horse. I understand why John likes him. But I was glad to get out of there.
I heard the rumbling clearly. I was right about it sounding ominous. Loose pieces of coal lay on the ground, and one piece fell just a few inches in front of me. It would not have hurt me — it was too small.
John actually laughed and said the mountain is doing them a favour by throwing coal down, but they still have to sort through the rubble. The bits that fall are not all coal. Some are useless rocks.
John admitted that it was harder work than he had expected. I hope Bird does not find out I went in there.
We have examinations coming up, so I must study. I’ll be back to write in this notebook when they are over. Connor got me to help him learn the Grammar rules. I don’t know why he needed help. He’s really smart.
March 1903
Sunday, March 1, 1903
&nb
sp; We have had a rash of guests lately. It is not easy to find enough spare time for writing things down now. Partly it is because I have more friends. Partly it is because I must save time for Bird and Davy. And partly it is trying to go on doing well at school.
Spring is coming, though. I can hardly wait.
Monday, March 2, 1903
Bird goes on and on about Turtle Mountain being dangerous. It is frightening to listen to her. So I asked her to stop talking about it. I think I might have hurt her feelings. But when I told her about my nightmares, she understood. I had had a couple about the mountain falling down. I am sure it could not really happen, whatever Bird’s grandfather thinks, but I hate those dreams. I wake up in a cold sweat. Bird confessed she has scary dreams too, but she has stopped talking about it.
Wednesday, March 4, 1903
Jeremiah is over here every evening now. Olivia’s eyes grow bright and she welcomes him warmly these days. I remember how cold they were when we first came. She saw him differently. I imagine that he is much better looking to her now that she knows he adores her.
I thought something like this about the way we see Davy. He has always looked so endearing to me and to Mother. Yet Olivia told me long ago that looking at him gave her the creeps. I am sure that is no longer true. Yet it is not Davy who has changed. It is Olivia.
Must study.
Friday, March 6, 1903
Even though the Easter exams are a month off, Miss Wellington is giving us tests. I can’t put everything aside while I study for them. There is housework to do and Davy to care for — even though he pays attention better now, so looking after him is easier. I’m not nearly as anxious about the tests as some of the others are. Still, I must go over my History notes.
Saturday, March 28, 1903
I cannot believe it, but March is almost over. We wrote the tests and I did well in everything. Uncle Martin says, if I do this well in the Easter exams, he will give me a fifty-cent piece as a reward. I have never had a reward for doing well in school before. Father did not believe in giving them even to John and Olivia. These days, whenever I am not in school or minding Davy, I am working the telegraph.
Maybe I should copy the Morse Code into this notebook. I will think about it.
More people come through here every day. I am waiting for spring. There are lots of snowflakes but no snowdrops! Aunt Susan promises me there will be lovely wildflowers in the mountains and I am eager to see them.
Sunday, March 29, 1903
Davy is still not as well as he was in the fall. But he is not in danger now. The doctor says I must be ready for him to be sick again though. His heart was damaged before he was born and has likely suffered more damage since.
“He’s a great little fellow, but he’ll not see old bones,” Dr. Malcolmson said this afternoon.
Davy laughed and punched him on the leg, as though he understood what the doctor had said and he was proving him wrong. Dr. M. thought it was a great joke. “That’s enough of that, young sir,” he said, rubbing the spot. Then he picked Davy up and swung him around in the air. Davy kicked and shrieked with delight.
The doctor put him down and turned to me. “Don’t feel sorry for him, Abby,” he told me very gently. “His days may be short but they will be full of joy. After all, love is the ground he walks on.”
I promised myself to remember what Dr. Malcolmson had said.
Tuesday, March 31, 1903
Jeremiah has proposed to Olivia! He waited until she turned eighteen and then he asked her.
Mother was flabbergasted but I wasn’t. I saw it coming. And I think it will be good if Olivia does do it, because I believe Jeremiah truly loves her. He is someone she could trust. Mary Ruth thinks so, and so does Polly. She says Olivia is as beautiful as an angel. I suppose she is. Well, I know she is really pretty. It is only envy that makes me not admit it.
I wonder if she will have a white dress with a lace veil. She has always dreamed of herself dressed in one. I have seen her gaze at pictures of brides in magazines and stare at them in shop windows.
They want to marry quickly. Olivia thinks May Day would be perfect. But I don’t think she can be ready that soon. When I began this book, almost a year ago, little did I think that I would be living in Alberta and, in less than a year, Olivia would be engaged to be married to a boy none of us had ever heard of.
Mother is convinced they should wait. When we were alone, however, I asked her to consider what might happen if another Tony shows up. Mother gave a shudder and then stared at me as though she were thinking my words over. I waited. Finally she admitted that I might be right.
“You are a very sensible girl, Abby,” she said.
It is funny. Heroines in books are never called “sensible,” but I think I like it. Mother’s calling me sensible that way gave me a warm feeling inside.
April 1903
Wednesday, April 1, 1903
Today was April Fool’s Day. I tricked Mother. I told her what was left of the snow had all melted away in the night.
She went to the window and pulled the curtain back.
“My heavens, you’re right, Abby,” she said.
I ran to look and as I came up behind her, she swung around and said, “April Fool yourself, Miss.”
You can’t tell your mother not to be a smart aleck, but I was tempted.
Friday, April 3, 1903
Olivia has asked me to be her bridesmaid! I was shocked. I could feel my mouth fall open. She laughed at my stunned look.
“I know, little sister,” she said. “You and I were never close before Father died. I think perhaps I saw too many things through his eyes. Mother told me so before we left Montreal, and I didn’t know what she meant, but now I think she was right.”
I stared at her and tried to believe what I was hearing. Then she took a deep breath and went on.
“It changes you when you’re working in a kitchen and hearing other women’s troubles and playing the piano and seeing people start to cry when you sing something that touches their hearts. I think my heart was hurt by Tony and that changed something in me too. And Davy calling me ‘O’ … and Jeremiah’s love.”
She smiled when she said his name and then made herself turn the smile toward me.
“Well, Abby, what do you say?” she asked very softly.
I was goggle-eyed still and she grinned. Then she went on. “I know now that you are my sister, no matter what anyone says, and I want you to walk up the aisle with me at my wedding.”
I had never heard her make such a long speech. She grew flushed while she was speaking and twisted her hands together. Suddenly I knew that whatever had been wrong between us was over and done with. I felt filled with joy and I beamed at her. I couldn’t help it.
“I would be honoured,” I told her.
Then my sister put her hands over her face and burst into tears. She stammered, “I was sure you would say no.”
I jumped up and hugged her. I knew that I had grown closer to her too since we came west. And since we had chicken pox together!
And I believe she was right about it having something to do with Father. I still don’t understand why, but he made me feel as if I was somehow different. Mother never shut me out, but Father did. Oh, I am not making sense. The wonder is that everything is all right now.
Saturday, April 4, 1903
Everyone talks about the wedding. Olivia is going to make the dresses herself, with the women who work at the hotel helping. They do a lot of sewing in their free time.
She is going to ask Mary Ruth to be a bridesmaid too. And maybe Polly will be a flower girl.
My oh my! What an amazing thing! It feels like a chinook blew through. They talk a lot about chinooks here. They are a wind of spring that comes blowing through early, like a preview of the warm-weather days ahead. You wake up and things are melting all around. Then, in a few days, the winter comes back. I wish it would happen, but I think it is too late now.
Sunday, April 5, 1903
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Aunt Susan broke it to us that we are going to be spring cleaning this week to have the place shining clean for Easter. Miss Wellington says I can write my examinations in the morning and come home at noon to lend a hand. I have a feeling I am not going to enjoy the next few days.
Monday, April 6, 1903
We have started the horrible spring cleaning of the hotel. It is an enormous, exhausting job. We have to wash everything and whitewash or paint the walls and ceilings. There is a lot of smoke from all the hearthfires and coal stoves and everything grows dingy and smudged by the time spring arrives. There are a million rugs to beat. Mark helps sometimes, although he is not keen on the job. We are saving goose down to fill the pillows. The ticks have to wait until summer, of course, when there is fresh straw to stuff them with. But there are floors and floors and floors to wash.
Aunt Susan goes around after us to check we aren’t skimping the corners. We also must move the furniture out from the walls and clean behind and underneath. When it’s warmer, we will wash the windows.
Writing my examinations is pure pleasure.
Tuesday, April 7, 1903
I never thought of washing picture frames until Aunt Susan took one down this morning and ran her finger along the top. It came away black with dust. Too bad she checked.
When it is done, I think it will be lovely and fresh, but I wish it was done already. I hope it NEVER gets this dirty again. I get so tired of it never ending.
Wednesday, April 8, 1903
We are getting there. Many hands do make light work. Lighter anyway. And everybody has pitched in. When a job is done, it does feel very fine. There are just far too many jobs.
I want to read a book. I feel as though I haven’t read one for years.
Thursday, April 9, 1903
Aunt Susan says the end is in sight. Hurrah! If only she is right.
Davy spilled a bag of sugar on the kitchen floor today just after I got through washing it. Don’t ask me how. But I confess that I wanted to kill my darling little brother. Sugar is not easy to wash up. Too sticky. It was even in my ears by the time I had finished doing the job all over again.