THE FROZEN HARVEST OF 1907 339 



expected to fill my thousand-bushel carload easily 

 from my two granaries, and also to have a few loads 

 over, — hope seldom left my side for long. The 

 end of the reckoning was that I had to borrow 

 a wagon-load from Mr. George Seymour to com- 

 plete my thousand bushels, which went in due 

 course to Fort William, after being sighted and 

 graded at Winnipeg, and which netted thirty-five 

 cents a bushel after freight and attendant expenses 

 had been settled. 



Mr. Wilton hauled carefully and well, and he 

 subscribed to the absolute need for economy with 

 good feeling and intelligence. It is the custom 

 when hauling grain to stable one's horses for at 

 least two hours at the end of the journey. A gallon 

 of oats for each horse goes on the load, and a feed 

 of hay is due to them from the proprietor of the 

 livery-barn. The livery charge for team is twenty- 

 five cents, and the charge for the teamster's dinner 

 at either of the hotels or the restaurant was, at the 

 time, also twenty-five cents. I had to arrange that 

 year that my team took their rest and feed unhitched 

 by the roadside, and Mrs. Wilton suggested that 

 she should cut her husband sandwiches for his 

 midday fare, which he could eat with a five-cent 

 cup of coffee at the restaurant, and have his principal 

 meal of the day on his return in the evening. I am 

 afraid my armour wasn't proof against such enforced 

 economies ; it didn't hurt either horses or man, 

 but the fact was I was within constant sight of the 

 day of reckoning; I grew impatient and irritable 

 and hardly ever stopped to laugh at the absurdity 

 of being either. Also here and there, during 1907, 

 I had been a little imprudent about work, and not 



