How thankful I am when the outside world does not intrude upon our family’s peace! Tonight, for once, my fears about the future were soothed and I felt safe. No one but I understands how Jack dislikes being apart from us. “You treat that dog like a person, Susanna,” Hamilton said, as I lay with my head on Jack’s warm side. I sneaked Jack into the house and when Papa noticed he did not object as he usually does.
The rest of us laughed at him - he is always taken by new inventions. Hamilton showed us a device he bought for himself - a thin piece of wood with bristles set in it, for cleaning his teeth. She never fails to remind me that she is a far better singer than I. My voice squeaked on the high notes, and that annoyed Maria. (She became giddy and had to go to bed.) Mama played the pianoforte and Maria and I sang “Come Unto Him,” which we learnt while Hamilton was away. Papa asked Tabitha to bring us some port wine and he offered a glass to her, also. We stayed up late to celebrate Hamilton’s homecoming. Right now I am too sleepy to write much more. So I will endeavour to record each day, no matter how humdrum. I enjoy putting my thoughts into words and, until now, I have not had the paper to do so.
My safe life will probably not interest my grandchildren. I would not like to endure what they have. Hamilton was once almost shipwrecked, even though he is only nineteen. Mama and Papa and Tabitha have all experienced terrible wars. I would rather my life were dull than dangerous, however. Compared with them, Maria and I have led dull lives. Hamilton has a journal - he writes in it every day, and he has shown me bits. Grandchildren! That is too strange to think about - I am only eleven! Write down what happens to you every day and you will have something interesting to show your grandchildren.” “Use it to tell your story, Susanna,” said Hamilton, as I thanked him. She says she will never use it, it is so pretty.Īnd for me, this elegant little book! It has red leather covers and many thick creamy pages. He also brought everyone a present: a volume of Scott’s poetry for Mama, tobacco for Papa, velvet ribbons for Maria (how she will preen in front of Charles!) and a handkerchief for Tabitha. What a great many items he unpacked! Coffee and souchong tea, brandy and rum, loaf sugar, salt, a soup tureen and a silver ladle, many tools and a handsome clock for the parlour. Today my beloved brother Hamilton returned from Kingston, where he has been for the past two weeks, selling flour and buying supplies for the farm. This is the best present I have ever received. Niagara Peninsula, Upper Canada, May, 1812
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