IN THE “THIRTIES”
By Canniff Haight
Country life in Western Canada in the “Thirties” was verysimple and uneventful. There were no lines of social divisionsuch as now exist. All alike had to toil to win and maintain ahome； and if， as was natural， some were more successful inthe rough battle of pioneer life than others， they did not feel，on that account， disposed to treat their neighbours as theirinferiors. Neighbours， they well knew， were too few and toodesirable to be coldly and haughtily treated. Had not all themembers of each community hewn their way side by side intothe fastnesses of the Canadian bush？ And what could a littleadditional wealth do for them， when the remoteness of thecentres which might supply luxuries， enforced simplicity andmade superfluities almost impossible？
The furnishings of their houses were plain， and the chiefarticles of dress， if substantial and comfortable， were of coarsehomespun—the product of their own labour. The sources ofamusement were limited. The day of the harmonium or pianohad not come. Music， except in its simplest vocal form， was notcultivated； only the occasional presence of some fiddler affordedrare seasons of merriment to the delight both of old and young.
The motto of “Early to bed and early to rise” was， even inwinter， the strict rule of family life. In the morning all wereup， and breakfast was over usually before seven. As soon asthe gray light of dawn appeared， men and boys were off to thebarns， not merely to feed the cattle but to engage in the needfuland tedious labour of threshing by hand. In the evenings， thefamily gathered together for lighter tasks and pleasant talkaround a glowing fire. In firewood， at least， there was， in thosedays， no need for economy.
We scarcely realize how largely little things may contributeto convenience and comfort. There were no lucifer matchesat that date. It was needful to cover up carefully the live coalson the hearth before going to bed， so that there might be themeans of starting the fire in the morning. This precaution wasrarely unsuccessful； but sometimes a member of the familyhad to set out for a supply of fire from a neighbour’s， in orderthat breakfast might be prepared. I remember well having tocrawl out of my warm nest and run through the keen frosty airfor half a mile or more， to fetch live coals from a neighbour’s.
It was， however， my father’s practice to keep bundles of finelysplit pine sticks tipped with brimstone. With the aid of these，the merest spark served to start the fire.
In the spring， tasks of various kinds crowded rapidly uponus. The hams and beef that had been salted down in casksduring the preceding autumn were taken out of the brine，washed off， and hung in the smoke-house. On the earthen floorbeech or maple was burned； the oily smoke， given off by thecombustion of these woods in a confined space， not only actedas a preservative but also lent a special flavour to the meat.
