A Trip to Manitoba by FitzGibbon, Mary, 1851-1915

As our train left, we passed car-loads of fat hogs, lying two or three deep, waiting to be unloaded at some one or other of the great establishments, where, in but a few minutes, the pig is killed, dressed, cut up, and packed ready for shipment again as pork. The public gardens in the suburbs, surrounded with handsome private residences, are pretty, but until we reached Detroit there was little to interest us in the country. Inside we had the usual mixture of travelling companions. An animated discussion arose between two old farmers, one returning to Ontario from a short visit to a son in California, the other going to Canada after an absence of over thirty years. The former called forth the latter's expressions of wonder by recounting all the changes and improvements he would find. More and more incredible they sounded. A city where he had left a swamp; thriving farms and villages where he remembered dense woods, traversed alone by wolves and bears; mills in the midst of impassable rapids; bridges over falls no man dare cross in his day; and when at last he was told that, instead of getting out and entering boats at Detroit, the train, engine, and all ran on board the iron ferry-boat, and was taken across intact, then carrying us through to Hamilton, he bustled out of his seat in great indignation, exclaiming--

"Hoot, mon, I'll na believe ony mair o' yure lies; I'm na sic an ould fule as ye tak' me for. The hale train on a boat, indeed!" and he indignantly placed himself at the other end of the car, his informant only rubbing his hands together in great glee at the fun.

The little black porter on the Pullman was very attentive, getting coffee for us at the different stations, seeing our baggage through the custom-house at Detroit, and when the train was on the boat, and it was fairly under weigh, taking me down into the engine-rooms, where I could look and wonder at the power propelling the boat, laden with two trains, across the river. On deck, the lights from the numerous ships and buildings enabled me to see an outline of the city and river; but I wished it had been daylight, or even moonlight, for then I could have seen everything to greater advantage. Returning to the car, I passed the incredulous Scotchman standing open-mouthed near the machinery, and watched him as he walked to the gangway muttering, "Ay, it is a boat, after a'. Weel, weel, wonders wull never cease." On Canadian soil again, and speeding on to the end of our journey, we stopped nowhere until we reached Hamilton, at three o'clock in the morning of Wednesday, October 16th. There my brother met us, and after spending the remainder of the night, or rather morning, at the Royal Hotel, we went on to Toronto by the nine o'clock train, reaching that place before noon. There, too, I will leave my readers, asking their indulgence for this simple account of my trip to Manitoba.

THE END.