Part 39 (1/2)
Barrie, where Judge Merritt lived, lies at the head of lovely little Lake Simcoe, in Western Ontario, Canada. In summer the lake is blue as the heavens above, the borders of it are fringed with larch and maple that grow right down to the rippling edge and bow to their own reflections in the clear waters beneath, while on its gla.s.sy surface can be seen daily numbers of boats and launches, the whole scene animated by merry voices of happy folks, with picnic baskets, bound for the woods, or others merely seeking relief from the intense heat on sh.o.r.e. Work is finished early in the day in the Colonies, and when school is over and the scorching sun begins slowly to sink to rest, social life begins.
But in Canada winter is long and extremely cold. With the fall of the beautiful tinted leaves that have changed from green to wonderful shades of red, purple, and yellow, Canadians know that summer is gone and that frost and snow may come any day, and once come will stay, though an unwelcome guest, for at least seven or eight months.
Now the young folks in Barrie relished this long spell of cold--to them no part of the year was quite so delightful as winter. What could compare with a long sleigh drive over firm thick snow, tucked in with soft warm furs and m.u.f.fled up to the eyes--or tobogganing in the moonlight down a long hill--or skimming over clear, smooth ice--or candy-making parties--or dances, or a dozen other delights? What indeed?
On every occasion Gladys seemed to be the centre figure; she was the life and soul of every party.
[Sidenote: The ”Bunch”]
She was an only child of wealthy parents. Her home was beautiful, her father indulgent, her mother like a sister to her; she was a favourite everywhere, loved alike by rich and poor. Together with two intimate friends and schoolfellows, the girls were commonly known as the ”Buds,”
and they, with half a dozen boys, were called the ”Bunch” throughout the town. They admitted no outsider to their circle. They danced together at parties, boated, picniced, skated, sometimes worked together. There was an invisible bond that drew the group near each other, a feeling of sympathy and good fellows.h.i.+p, for the ”Bunch” was simply a whole-hearted, happy crowd of boys and girls about sixteen to nineteen years of age.
Winter was at its height. Christmas with all its joys was past, church decorations had surpa.s.sed the usual standard of beauty, holidays were in full swing, and the ”Buds” were in great demand. The cold had for five weeks been intense, and the barometer on the last day of January sank to fifteen below zero. Snow had fallen but little, and the ring of merry, tinkling sleigh bells was almost an unknown sound. Tobogganing of course was impossible. But as Gladys philosophically remarked one day, ”Where could you find such skating as in Barrie?”
Great excitement prevailed when the moon was full, for the lake, some nine miles in length, was frozen from end to end, with an average thickness of three feet, and to the delight of skaters, was entirely snow free. Of course parties were the order of the day. Such a chance to command a magnificent icefield might not occur again for a long, long time.
The ”Bunch” instantly decided on a party of their own, and chose a glorious night for the expedition. It consisted of the ”Buds” and three boys. For some time all went well, but Gladys's skate needed tightening, and before it was satisfactorily done, the other four were far away, and Harry Elliott was left as sole protector to the girl.
Their conversation was mainly about school concerns. The boy was in a bank, the girl in her last term at the High School.
”If only I could work at something after I'm finished! What shall I do with my life when I have no more lessons? I think everybody should do something; I shall soon be tired of lazing through the days.”
”Your pater would never let you do anything for money, he is so rich.”
”But simply to have a lot of money won't satisfy me, although I'd like to earn some. To be a teacher would suit me best, and keep my mind from rusting.”
”You are awfully clever, you know. I never cared for books and never worked till one day--a day I shall never forget.”
”What was it about, Harry? Tell me.”
The two had chattered about their own concerns without noticing that the rest of the ”Bunch” had kept to the left side of the lake while they had skated straight forward ignoring the deep bay, and were now nearing the right sh.o.r.e. The ice was smooth as gla.s.s, each was an accomplished skater, and together they had made a brilliant run without a pause after the tightening of the screw. Now, hot and breathless, they paused for a few moments, and only then realised that they were about three miles distant from the rest of the party. Harry drew off his thick woollen mittens and unloosened his m.u.f.fler, as together they stood looking at the glistening landscape around them.
”I think we ought to turn; we are a long way from home.”
”Just let us touch sh.o.r.e first and get to the 'Black Stone'; that would be a record spin.”
”All right, then, come along, and tell me what happened that day. You know.”
Hand-in-hand the two started off once more in the direction of the ”Black Stone.” Far and wide there was not a human being visible. Not a sound except the swish, swish of their skates and their own voices fell on the clear, still air of the glorious night.
[Sidenote: Harry's Story]
”I never was clever,” began Harry, ”and am not now. I used to be quite satisfied that kings and other celebrated people really had lived and died without learning a whole rigmarole about their lives. Really it did not interest me a bit. Geography was the same, composition was worse, mathematics was worst. I seemed always to be in hot water at school.
Then one day the old man (we always called Jackson Spencer that) said after cla.s.s was over--and of course I hadn't answered once--'Elliott, go to my room and wait for me.' I tell you, Gladys, I s.h.i.+vered; I didn't know what I was in for. Old man walked right in and shut the door, after having left me alone about ten minutes, and just said, 'Come and sit down, boy, I want to say something to you.' You could have knocked me over I was so surprised. He then said: 'Look here, Elliott, you are not a bad chap, but do you know that you are as blind as an owl?' I rubbed my eyes and said, 'No, sir, I can see all right.'
”'You must be very short-sighted, then.'
”Of course I said nothing.