Chapter One.

It was late in the afternoon when Mr Philip Ashton walked up to the door of his residence in Portman-square. His hand touched the knocker irresolutely. “It must be done,” he said to himself. “May strength be given to all of them to bear the blow!” His hand shook as he rapped. The hall door flew open, a servant in handsome livery stood ready to take his hat and gloves. As he entered the drawing-room his wife and daughters rose to welcome him, with affection beaming in their eyes, as did his three sons, who had just arrived at home from different directions.

“Dear papa, you are not well,” exclaimed Sophy, his eldest daughter, leading him to a seat.

“Philip, what is the matter?” asked his wife, leaning over him.

“Sit down, dears, and I will tell you,” he answered, pressing her hand. “A severe trial has come upon us, but—”

“Dear Leonard, nothing has happened to him, I pray?” gasped out Mrs Ashton. Leonard was a sailor son, the only one now absent.

“Thank Heaven he is well; I had a letter from him only to-day,” answered Mr Ashton. “Many mercies are granted us, and I trust, therefore, that you will all submit to be deprived, without murmuring, of the wealth we hitherto have thought our own. Dear ones, the law-suit has been decided against us!”

The young Ashtons were silent for some minutes, but presently recovered themselves.

“We can all work,” exclaimed the three sons, in a breath.

“Our happiness does not consist in this,” said Sophy, glancing round the room, “We will make the smallest cottage comfortable for you, mamma.”

“I am sure we can, and do all the work ourselves,” cried Fanny, her next sister.

“I can make a pudding, and churn, and could soon learn how to milk a cow,” said Agnes, the third daughter, laughing. “I have always wished to live in a cottage in the country.”

“I’ve arranged it,” said Fanny. “Agnes shall be cook, I will be waiting-maid, Sophy housekeeper, Philip bailiff, Harry gardener, and Charley—oh, let me consider—general farm-servant: won’t that be excellent?”

“But you place your mother and me on the shelf,” said Mr Ashton, his spirits reviving from seeing the way in which his children bore the announcement he had so dreaded making. “What are we to do?”

“O papa, of course you and mamma are to do nothing. We are all to work for you,” exclaimed Harry, a fine youth of fourteen, who looked as if there was indeed work in him.

“Of course,” added Charley. “How we ought to thank you, papa, for having us taught carpentering, and that we all have such a fancy for gardening. John says, too, that I know almost as much about pigs and cows and sheep as he does; and as for Phil, he knows more about everything than all of us put together.”

Philip—Mr Ashton’s eldest son—had not spoken after he had first expressed his feelings with his brothers. His thoughts were elsewhere. A bright airy castle he had lately raised, had just been hurled rudely to the ground, and he was stunned by the crash.

Mr Ashton retired to rest that night with a mind greatly relieved. He had not doubted the affection of his children, and he was assured that it would enable them to bear their reverse of fortune with cheerfulness. When he rose in the morning he prayed earnestly for strength to go through the work required of him, and that is never denied to those who seek it from Him who can alone afford it. In all the work he received able assistance from his son. Philip had not left a single debt unpaid at the University, by which, under his altered circumstances, he might ever afterwards have been hampered. Mr Ashton, having never allowed household bills to run on, was comparatively free from debt.

All his affairs arranged, he found himself with an income—arising from a settlement on his wife—of two hundred pounds a-year, and about fifteen hundred pounds in ready money. Once more his family being assembled, he pointed out to them that though their plans were very good, if they were to remain a united family they must look to the future, and seek in another country the opportunity of developing their energies.

“What do you think of Canada?” he asked.

“A capital country!” cried Charley, who, as the youngest, spoke first. “I know all about the sleighing, and the skating, and the ice-boats, and the coasting down snow-hills, and the shooting huge deer, and the snow-shoeing, and the sailing on the lakes, and the fishing, and the sporting of all sorts,—not a country like it, I should say.”

“It’s a country for hard work, I know,” said Harry. “Nothing I should fancy so much as cutting down trees, building log-huts, fencing in fields, and ploughing and reaping. Ever since I read ‘Laurie Todd’ I have wished to go there.” Philip and his sisters expressed themselves equally ready to emigrate.

No time was lost in making the necessary preparations, after it was resolved that they should go to Canada. It was highly gratifying to them to find that several of their servants wished to accompany them. Two only, however, could be taken. Of these Mrs Summers had been the nurse of all the younger children, and had lately acted as housekeeper. “It would break my heart, marm, if you were to go out to a strange country, and I, who am still strong and hearty, not to be with you to help you in all your troubles,” she said, with tears in her eyes, to Mrs Ashton. “Though you take them like an angel, marm, they are troubles.”

The other, Peter Puckle by name, had been first stable-boy, then page, and lately footman. He engaged Harry to plead his cause. “The wages and the passage-money shan’t stand in the way, Master Harry,” he urged. “I have not been in the family all these years without laying by something, and it’s the honour of serving your good father still is all I want.”

The surface of the broad Atlantic was scarcely ruffled by a breeze as the steamer with the Ashton family on board rushed across it. “Well, Sophy, I declare it is worth being ruined for the sake of the fun we have on board,” exclaimed Charley, to his eldest sister, who was sitting reading on deck, at a short distance from the rest of the party.

A gentleman standing by heard the remark, and finding Charley by himself directly afterwards, he observed, smiling, “Why, my young friend, you do not look as if you were ruined. I have never met a happier family than yours appears to be. What did you mean by saying that?”

“Well, I do not think that we are ruined really, sir,” said Charley, artlessly; “still, my papa had many thousand pounds a-year till lately, and we lived in a large house in London, and had another in the country, and Philip was at Oxford and Harry at Eton, and I was going there; and now we are to live in a log-hut in the back woods in Canada, and that makes us all so jolly, because it will be such capital fun. Don’t you think so?”

“I have had some experience of life in the back woods,” answered the gentleman. “It has its advantages and its disadvantages, though I have little doubt but that you will find it pleasant.”

“What, do you live in Canada, sir?” asked Charley.

“Yes; I have lived there all my life,” said the stranger. “But, my young friend, you say that you are ruined, and yet I see that you have servants attending on you: how is that?”

“Why, they insisted on coming, and would not leave us,” answered Charley.

“Would more have accompanied you?” enquired the stranger. “I am afraid, though, that my questions may appear impertinent,”

“If papa would have let them,” said Charley.

“That fact speaks volumes in favour both of masters and servants,” said the stranger to himself.

From that day Charley looked upon the stranger as an especial friend, though he could learn little more about him than that his name was Norman. At length the Saint Lawrence was reached, and the Ashton family landed safely at Quebec, the chief port of the superb province which the gallantry of Wolfe won for England, and which, mainly by the perseverance and energy of Anglo-Saxon inhabitants, has become one of the brightest jewels in the British crown.

Chapter Two.

“We have gained the day, Mrs Ashton! We have gained the day, girls!” exclaimed Mr Ashton, rushing with his hat on into the small sitting-room of a red brick house in a dull street of a country town in England. Various exclamations broke from the lips of Mrs and the Misses Ashton at this unexpected announcement. For reasons best known to himself, Mr John Ashton had not informed his wife and daughters of the law-suit going on between himself and his relative, Mr Philip Ashton. “Guess the amount!” he exclaimed. That was impossible. “What do you think of six thousand a-year? Every shilling of it, and under my management it will become ten thousand; ay, and more than that, probably.” It was some time before the Ashtons could realise the fact of this good fortune, as they called it; but as they realised it their ideas expanded, their aspirations increased. Their eldest son, John, lately articled to an attorney, must be entered at Oxford; the second, apprenticed to a draper, was sent off to Germany to grow whiskers and a moustache, lest any of the country gentry should recognise him as having measured out ribbons for them from behind the counter; while the youngest was taken from the Grammar-school and sent off, much against his will, to form aristocratic acquaintances at Eton. The great ambition of the Miss Ashtons was to shine in London society. Their father boasted that money could do everything. It enabled him to obtain a handsome house, equipage, and establishment, and then to commence their career in the world of fashion. There were three Miss Ashtons. The two eldest were considered beauties; the youngest, Mary, had been absent on a visit, and did not return home till her father was on the point of setting off for London.

“Father, I wish to speak to you alone,” said Mary, on the evening of her arrival. Mr Ashton led the way to his office at the back of the house. He had considerable respect for Mary, though he tried not to show it. “Father, I hope that you will not consider I have been wanting in duty in having refrained from writing what I now wish to tell you,” she began. Mr Ashton looked uncomfortable, but nodded for her to continue, which she did. “While I was with Mrs Musgrave, at Scarborough, a gentleman of our name, who happened to be there with some members of his family, was introduced to me. Mrs Musgrave was much pleased with him—we saw him frequently—he at length proposed to me, and feeling sure that you would approve of him, I accepted him.”

“What is his name?” asked Mr Ashton, sharply.

“Philip Ashton;—he is most worthy—most excellent,” answered Mary, trembling at her father’s tone. “He is all—!”

“He is a beggar!” exclaimed Mr Ashton, vehemently. “You will have nothing more to say to him; you understand me clearly; it is not a matter I wish to discuss.” Rising from his seat he led the way out of the room.

Two days afterwards Mary received a letter from Philip Ashton, freeing her from her engagement to him in consequence of their altered circumstances, but couched in terms which more than ever convinced her that he was worthy of her best affections. The family arrived in London, and by dint of perseverance, managed to engage in a whirl of dissipation, which they called pleasure. Mary’s cheeks grew paler than they were wont. Her sisters said that it was the effect of the London season. John, voting Oxford a bore, came to London, and without much difficulty, obtained the character of a fashionable young man about town. It might have been doubted whether Mr Ashton himself derived full advantage from his large income. Few of his guests knew him by sight, and he had often to steal off to bed fatigued with his labours as director of numerous promising speculations in which he had engaged to increase his fortune. Altogether the Ashton family were very busily employed. Some might say that they were like those who “sow the wind to reap the whirlwind.” We gladly quit them to follow the fortunes of their emigrant cousins.

Chapter Three.

Canada is now traversed from one end to the other by railways, with numerous ramifications to the north and south, while steam-vessels run not only on its main artery—the Saint Lawrence—and the great chain of lakes, but also on numerous other rivers and lakes in every direction on the lines of the highway to any inhabited district. Notwithstanding this, the romance of travelling through Canada is not altogether done away with. Although several of the chief cities contain very large populations, Montreal having 100,000 inhabitants, and Quebec and Toronto not many thousands less, and possessing likewise all the advantages required by civilised communities, yet a very few miles away from them the stranger may find himself in some wild district where he might suppose that the foot of man had never trod. In the summer, steamers on water compete with locomotives on land in conveying passengers; and when time is not of consequence, the route by water is generally preferred.

A few days only were spent at Quebec by the Ashtons after their arrival, before they embarked on board one of those wonderful constructions, an American steam-boat, to proceed up the Saint Lawrence to Montreal. The entrance was in the side of the vessel, and on the main deck, which appeared lumbered up from one end to the other with casks, chests, and packages, a flight of steps led to an upper deck, which had the appearance of a long gallery, fitted up as a drawing-room, with sofas, easy chairs, and every luxury. The glazed roof was supported by pillars, but no access could be discovered to any spot where helmsman, captain, or crew might be posted. Harry, after many enquiries, found that the wheel was on a platform on the roof forward, where the captain and pilot stood. He pronounced the vessel to be constructed on two huge arches, having a vast Thames wherry below, with a superstructure of picture galleries on a wide platform extending far over her gunwale on either side.

Montreal, the head of the ocean navigation, was reached; and then by a series of magnificent canals the rapids of the Saint Lawrence were avoided; the lake of the Thousand Isles, with their rocky bases and tree-covered summits, was passed, as were several larger and thriving towns, and Lake Ontario was entered.

At Kingston they embarked on board another steamer, which was far more like an ordinary vessel than the one they had just quitted. Who should come on board, just before she left the wharf, but Mr Norman. A few hours afterwards, when Harry and Charley came on deck, they uttered an exclamation of surprise as they looked around. “What, is this called a lake, Mr Norman? Why, where is the land?”

“Out of sight,” answered their friend, laughing. “North, south, east, west of us. It is rather hazy to the north, or you would see the pine-fringed shore. We shall soon again see it, as we have to touch at several towns on our way.”

Several large vessels were met under all sail, with numerous crews, steering for the Saint Lawrence.

“Where can they be going to?” said Harry.

“To Liverpool, perhaps, or to some other English port, laden with wheat from the Western States,” answered Mr Norman. “Vessels have sailed all the way from Lake Superior to England.”

They saw, however, more things to wonder at than can well be recounted. Not the least, in the eyes of the boys, was the fine city of Toronto, with its numerous public buildings.

“Why, I thought that we were about to enter the backwoods by the time we got thus far west, and here we are in the middle of as civilised a city as any we have seen,” exclaimed Harry, on their return from an excursion through Toronto.

“We have many other fine towns still further west,” said Mr Norman, who had stayed at the same hotel. “If we go into the States we shall find, several hundred miles off, Chicago, which has sprung up as if by the wand of the enchanter. The secret of this rapid increase is its peculiar position at the head of a great navigable lake, with a background unrivalled in its corn-producing powers. In the course of years we may hope to see cities, towns, and villages, rising at intervals on British territory, directly across our vast continent, united to those which have already appeared in British Columbia.”

Mr Ashton having made all the enquiries in his power as to eligible localities, set off with Philip to select a spot for the future abode of the family. He was advised to rent a partially cleared farm, but his sons especially entreated that he would purchase a tract of wild ground, that they might have the satisfaction of feeling that with their own hands they were bringing their own property from a state of nature into one of cultivation. He yielded to their wishes, though, perhaps, the plan he was advised to adopt would have more rapidly afforded them a return for their outlay, and some of the luxuries of civilisation. Mr Norman casually enquired the direction in which they proposed prosecuting their search, and on hearing that it was to the north, he remarked that he might possibly meet them.

We need scarcely say that the Ashton family employed their time profitably in seeing all that there was to be seen in Toronto, and that they made excursions to Hamilton, and to several other towns accessible by railway. Mr Ashton lost no time in searching for the desired locality, and he and Philip soon came to the conclusion that it was not a thing to be done in a hurry. Fortunately Mr Norman did meet them, and with his assistance they at last found a spot to suit them. “The next thing you will have to do is to get fixed” he said, laughing. “You will soon find out the meaning of that term, I guess.”

Note. “Get fixed” is the American cant term for settled.

Chapter Four.

Towards the close of a bright summer day, several wheeled vehicles were progressing slowly along a broad but roughish road cut through the forest in the northern part of the peninsula of Upper Canada. In colonial phrase, they were all waggons; but some carried luggage only, and one of them human beings, with a small amount of personalities, in the shape of carpet bags and hat boxes between their feet. This vehicle was a long shallow box, or it might be called a tray on wheels, with four seats across, each calculated to hold three persons, and with a box for the driver. The baggage-waggons were of the same build, without the seats, and were heavily laden with chests, casks, bales, and bedding, with other household furniture. They must have been stronger than they looked, to withstand the violent bumpings and jerks they received as they progressed along the chief highway as yet opened up in that part of the country. The nature of the road varied very much, according to the character of the land over which it passed: now it was of corduroy—that is to say of trees laid across it, the interstices filled up with clay or sand. In a few places in the neighbourhood of saw-mills, planks had been placed diagonally across the road, secured to sleepers beneath, and over these bits the horses dragged the vehicles at a speed which made the travellers wish that the whole road was formed in the same manner. This they found was called a plank road. How the machines could hold together, or the limbs of the occupants escape dislocation, seemed surprising as they surged over the first-mentioned style of road. Now and then the foundation of the road was of rock; and this though even rougher, caused no fear of its letting the carriages sink through. Here and there gravel appeared and