Le Petit Nord | Page 2

have promised to Mission
work? Your steamer letter, with its Machiavellian arguments for
returning immediately and directly from St. John's, was duly received.
Of my unfitness for the work there is no possible doubt, no shadow of
doubt whatever, and therein you and I are at one. But you will do me
the justice to admit that I put very forcibly before those in charge of the
Mission the delusion under which they were labouring; the
responsibility now lies with them, and I "go to prove my soul." What
awaits me I know not, but except when the mighty billows rocked me,
not soothingly with gentle motion, but harshly and immoderately. I
have never wavered in my decision; and even at such times it was to

the bottom of Father Neptune that I aspired to travel rather than to the
shores of "Merrie England."
The voyage so far has been uneventful, and we are now swaying
luxuriously at anchor in a dense fog. This I believe is the usual
welcome accorded to travellers to the island of Newfoundland. There is
no chart for icebergs, and "growlers" are formidable opponents to
encounter at any time. Therefore it behoves us to possess our souls in
patience, and only to indulge at intervals in the right to grumble which
is by virtue of tradition ours. We have already been here a day and a
half, and we know not how much longer it will be before the curtain
rises and the first act of the drama can begin.
These boats are far from large and none too comfortable. We have
taken ten days to come from Liverpool. Think of that, you who disdain
to cross the water in anything but an ocean greyhound! What hardships
we poor missionaries endure! Incidentally I want to tell you that my
fellow passengers arch their eyebrows and look politely amused when I
tell them to what place I am bound. I ventured to ask my room-mate if
she had ever been on Le Petit Nord. I wish you could have seen her
face. I might as well have asked if she had ever been exiled to Siberia! I
therefore judge it prudent not to thirst too lustily for information, lest I
be supplied with more than I desire or can assimilate at this stage. I
shall write you again when I board the coastal steamer, which I am
credibly informed makes the journey to St. Antoine once every
fortnight during the summer months. Till then, au revoir.

Run-by-Guess, June 15
I landed on the wharf at St. John's to be met with the cheering
information that the steamer had left for the north two days before. This
necessitated a delay of twelve days at least. Will all the babies at the
Orphanage be dead before I arrive on the scene of action? Shall I take
the next boat back and be in England before the coastal steamer comes
south to claim me? Conflicting emotions disturb my troubled soul, but
"on and always on!"

The island boasts a railroad of which the rural inhabitants are
inordinately proud. Just prior to my arrival a daily service had been
inaugurated. Formerly the passenger trains ran only three times a week.
There are no Sunday trains. As I had so much time to spare, I decided
that I could not do better than spend some of it in going across the
island and thus see the Southern part of the country, catching my boat
at Come-by-Chance Junction on the return journey. Truth compels me
to add that I find myself a sadder and wiser woman. I left St. John's one
evening at six o'clock, being due to arrive at our destination at eight
o'clock the following night. There is no unpleasant "hustle" on this
railway, and you may wait leisurely and humbly for a solid hour while
your very simple meal is prepared. If you do not happen to be hungry,
this is only a delightful interlude in the incessant rush of modern life,
but if perchance Nature has endowed you with a moderate appetite, that
one hour seems incurably long.
All went well the first night, or at least my fellow passengers showed
no signs of there being anything unusual, so like Brer Rabbit, I lay low
and said nothing. At noon the following day a slightly bigger and more
prolonged jolt caused the curious among us to look from the window.
The engine, tender, and luggage van were derailed. As the speed of the
trains never exceeds twenty-five miles an hour, such little contretemps
which occur from time to time do not ruffle the serenity of those
concerned. Resigning myself to a delay of a few hours, I determined to
alight and explore the country. But alas! I had no