Uncertain Heritage by Helenora Gale

Author:Helenora Gale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: canada, growing up, romance historical, romance canada, romance 1850s, canada historical fiction, canada romance
Publisher: Winghigh Limited

Chapter 8

May 3, 1851

Dear Diary,

No, it won’t do. My dear sister, Cat, might enjoy confessing her most secret thoughts in a diary, but it will never have appeal for me. Dear Diary - whoever heard of calling someone Diary, I shall rename you and begin anew.

Dear Daffodil,

My friend and confidante; Daffodil, and that is exactly what the ground should be covered with instead of this wretched snow. Whoever could have imagined a snow storm the first week of May? It’s springtime, the green time of the year, and I long to enter the woods and seek out the first wild flowers.

So, Daffodil, I am in Peterborough and I suppose you might say I’m fortunate to have arrived unharmed. We left Toronto ten days ago, all twelve of us, divided into two lots of six. I travelled in one of the hired carriages with Trevor, the Prentices from Galt, and two gentlemen actors who have recently joined our group.

Mr Ashley Percival is quite elderly and portly; his nephew is a mere stripling, with hair the consistency of straw and a high-pitched voice like a girl’s. His name is Sydney Farrell. Trevor tells me he was signed on because of his connection to Mr Percival. How wonderful when birth alone provides the key! The others left earlier in the other carriage and, fortunately for them, made a reasonably safe and comfortable trip.

Once we were on the road, Trevor began to worry as usual about the extra actors we would have to recruit in each of the towns we plan to visit.

“The last road trip I took in this area was a disaster,” he was saying, “Peterborough, Cobourg, Port Hope, Belleville and Bytown were on our itinerary. We planned to stage an even more ambitious play than School for Scandal; The Merchant of Venice, with its nineteen major roles, not counting courtiers and servants, meant picking up amateurs en-route. Each town provided its own piece of bad luck! In Peterborough, there were many actors willing to volunteer, but none could act! Needless to say with all those extra bit parts, everyone had to assume double roles. Dreadful! I can’t tell you.” Trevor paused and coughed several times before continuing.

“In Port Hope, where we were invited to present one act in the church hall, we were cancelled out. So humiliating! Belleville was somewhat more civilised. We got through one performance without too many scandalous interruptions. Would you believe me, I remember Belleville best for its bedbugs!”

Once again he was seized with a coughing fit. “Bytown was almost our undoing. Upon our arrival, we were told that the theatre was on the outskirts of town.” Trevor became even more melancholy in reflection.

“Worse than that, we couldn’t persuade the driver to take his horses one yard further, the mud from the spring floods was so thick. Finally we had to walk. We tripped and slid - the conditions underfoot were abominable. The so-called theatre turned out to be even worse. A rat-trap not to be believed. When a mere handful of people turned up to receive us, I was almost ready to cancel.

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