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Updated: May 26, 2025
There was the ruffian squatter P , from Clear Lake, the dread of all honest men; the brutal M , who treated oxen as if they had been logs, by beating them with handspikes; and there was Old Wittals, with his low forehead and long nose, a living witness of the truth of phrenology, if his large organ of acquisitiveness and his want of consciousness could be taken in evidence.
I declare to you on my honour that I have not had a bit of wittals to dewour for two whole days." He came to the right person with his petition. Mr. S with a liberal hand relieved his wants, but he entailed upon him the name of "Old Wittals," as part payment.
From this ravenous propensity, for he eat his food like a famished wolf, he had obtained his singular name of "Wittals." During the first year of his settlement in the bush, with a very large family to provide for, he had been often in want of food. One day he came to my brother, with a very long face. "Mr. S I'm no beggar, but I'd be obliged to you for a loaf of bread.
Old Wittals, who happened to come down that morning, assisted in placing the bags of wheat in the little vessel, and helped to place Moodie at the stern. With a sad, foreboding spirit I assisted to push off from the shore. The air was raw and cold, but our sail was not without its pleasure.
The very first day, a terrible accident happened to us; a large log fell upon the sugar-kettle the borrowed sugar-kettle and cracked it, spilling all the sap, and rendering the vessel, which had cost four dollars, useless. We were all in dismay. Just at that time Old Wittals happened to pass, on his way to Peterborough.
I declare to you on my honour that I have not had a bit of wittals to dewour for two whole days." He came to the right person with his petition. Mr. S with a liberal hand relieved his wants, but he entailed upon him the name of "Old Wittals," as part payment.
There was the ruffian squatter P, from Clear Lake, the dread of all honest men; the brutal M, who treated oxen as if they had been logs, by beating them with handspikes; and there was Old Wittals, with his low forehead and long nose, a living witness of the truth of phrenology, if his large organ of acquisitiveness and his want of conscientiousness could be taken in evidence.
I wrote a little note to Emilia, who was still at her father's; and Mr. W, the storekeeper, sent us a fine sugar-kettle back by Wittals, and also the other mended, in exchange for the useless piece of finery. We had now two kettles at work, to the joy of Jenny, who declared that it was a lucky fairy who had broken the old kettle.
The very first day, a terrible accident happened to us; a large log fell upon the sugar-kettle the borrowed sugar-kettle and cracked it, spilling all the sap, and rendering the vessel, which had cost four dollars, useless. We were all in dismay. Just at that time Old Wittals happened to pass, on his way to Peterborough.
By lending my oxen for two days' work, I got Wittals, who had no oxen, to drag me in a few acres of oats, and to prepare the land for potatoes and corn. The former I dropped into the earth, while Jenny covered them up with the hoe.
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