Twenty Seven Years in Canada West by Samuel Strickland
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Samuel Strickland >> Twenty Seven Years in Canada West
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In the morning, we walked over the farm with the old Colonel, and were
much gratified by seeing the prosperous condition of the crops, which
argued well for the goodness of the land. I think I never saw a finer
crop of oats, or better promise for turnips, in my life. The wheat also
looked extremely well. It was certainly an interesting sight, after
walking for miles through a dense forest, suddenly to emerge from the
wooded solitude upon a sea of waving grain, white for the harvest.
"The Harvest! the Harvest! how fair on each plain
It waves in its golden luxuriance of grain!
The wealth of a nation is spread on the ground,
And the year with its joyful abundance is crowned.
The barley is whitening on upland and lea,
And the oat-locks are drooping, all graceful to see;
Like the long yellow hair of a beautiful maid,
When it flows on the breezes, unloosed from the braid.
"The Harvest! the Harvest! how brightly the sun
Looks down on the prospect! its toils are begun;
And the wheat-sheaves so thick on the valleys are piled,
That the land in its glorious profusion has smiled.
The reaper has shouted the furrows among;
In the midst of his labour he breaks into song;
And the light-hearted gleaners, forgetful of care,
Laugh loud, and exult as they gather their share.
Agnes Strickland.
About noonday, we all proceeded to the harvest-field, headed by our
host and his lady, and her fair daughters. As soon as we arrived at the
scene of action, a sickle was placed in the hands of Madame Von Egmond;
and she was requested to cut and bind the first sheaf of wheat ever
harvested in the Huron tract--an honour of which any person might be
justly proud.
"Lord! thou hast blessed the people,
And made the plant of bread
To spring, where'er beneath thine eye
Fair Nature's carpet spread.
Earth's thirst drank in thy freshening rain,
Earth's bosom wooed thy sun,
Beautiful grew the golden grain,
Like prize of labour won!"
What were the red battle-fields of Napoleon, in comparison to this
bloodless victory, won over the forests of the Huron! The sight of that
first sheaf, cut by the gentle hand of woman, was one that angels
rejoiced to see; while the fruits of his conquests were such as might
well make "the seraphs weep."
Madame Von Egmond handled her sickle something better than a mere
amateur, which make us conjecture it was not the first sheaf she had
ever cut and bound. As soon as this interesting ceremony was over, we
gave three hearty cheers for the Canada Company. A horn of whiskey was
served round, in which we pledged our host and hostess, and drank
success to the settlement.
On our return to the house, we found a capital dinner awaiting us.
Indeed, the old soldier had spared neither pains nor expense in
providing handsomely on the occasion. After the cloth was removed, a
nice dessert was laid out, consisting of almonds and raisins, oranges,
and red and black raspberries. The two latter dishes are easily
procured, for they grow more plentifully in the angles of the snake-
fences in Canada than blackberries do in England. They are a delicious
fruit, and particularly grateful in a hot day to the weary traveller.
I need hardly describe our evening's entertainment, save that "we ate,
drank, and were merry." Indeed, it would have been difficult to be
otherwise with Doctor Dunlop as one of our companions.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
* * * * *
LONDON:
Printed by Samuel Bentley & Co.
Bangor House, Shoe Lane.
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