Life in the Grey Nunnery at Montreal | Page 7

no idea of the place. The freedom and careless
gayety, so characteristic of other nurseries, had no place in this. No

cheerful conversation, no juvenile merriment, or pleasureable
excitement of any kind, were ever allowed. A merry laugh, on the
contrary, a witty jest, or a sly practical joke, would have been punished
as the most heinous offence. Here as elsewhere in the establishment,
the strictest rules of silence and obedience were rigidly enforced. There
were twenty little girls in the room with me, but we were never
permitted to speak to each other, nor to any one except a priest or a
Superior. When directly addressed by either of them we were allowed
to answer; but we might never ask a question, or make a remark, or in
any way, either by looks, words, or signs, hold communication with
each other. Whenever we did so, it was at the risk of being discovered
and severely punished. Yet this did not repress the desire for
conversation; it only made us more cautious, artful, and deceptive. The
only recreation allowed us was fifteen minutes' exercise in the yard
every morning and evening. We might then amuse ourselves as we
chose, but were required to spend the whole time in some kind of active
exercise; if one of our number ventured to sit still, we were all punished
the next day by being kept in the house.
It was my business, while in the nursery, to dust all the furniture and
the floor, with a flannel mop, made and kept for this purpose. The
floors were all painted and varnished, and very easily kept clean.
Two hours and a half each day we spent with a priest, whom we were
taught to call Father Darity (I do not know as I spell this and other
names correctly, but I give it to the reader as it sounded to my ear). He
appeared to take great pleasure in learning us to repeat the prayers and
catechism required by Priest Dow. He also gave us a variety of
instructions in other things, enjoining in particular the most absolute
obedience and perfect silence. He assured us that if we dared to disobey
him in the least particular, he should know it, even if he was not present
with us at the time. He said he knew all our thoughts, words, and
actions; and if we did not obey, he should "EAT US WITH A GRAIN
OF SALT."
I presume my reader will smile at this, and exclaim, "How absurd!"
Yes, to you it is absurd; but to the mind of a child who placed the
utmost confidence in his veracity, it was an evidence that he was
invested with supernatural powers. For myself I believed every word he
said, and nothing would have tempted me to disobey him. Perfect

obedience he considered the highest attainment, and, to secure this, the
greatest of all virtues, no means were thought too severe. We were
frightened and punished in every possible way.
But, though Father Darity acted on the one great principle with the
Romanists, that the "end sanctifies the means," he was in general a
much kinder man than Priest Dow. He urged us on with our catechism
as fast as possible, telling us, as a motive to greater diligence, that the
bishop was soon to visit us, and that we could not be admitted to his
presence until we had our prayers and catechism perfectly.
One day, when we were in the yard at play, I told one of the little girls
that I did not like to live there; that I did not like one of the people in
the house; that I wished to return to my father, and I should tell him so
the first time he came to see me.
"Then you like to live with your father?" said she. I told her I did, for
then I could do as I pleased, without the fear of punishment. She said
that she did not like to live there any better than I did. I asked her why
she did not go away, if she disliked to stay. She replied, "I should like
to go away well enough, if I had any friends to go to; but my father and
mother are both dead, and I have no home but this; so you see I must
stay here if they wish me to; but there is one consolation; if we are
good girls, and try to do right, they will be kind to us." I made no
further remark; but the moment we returned to the house she told the
Superior what I said, taking good care not to repeat her own
expressions, and leaving the Superior to infer that she had made no
reply.