Handwritten on 5x8 inch paper. Paragraph breaks, commas, and a few words in brackets have been inserted, and a few misspelled words have been corrected. Otherwise it is as written.

Born in St. Vincent township, Grey county, Ontario, about three miles along the Georgian Bay shore from Meaford, Aug 11, 1859.

My earliest recollection is the pulling over my ears while I was sitting on the floor of the then common hoop skirts of Sarah Prentice who was afterwards Aunt Sarah York wife of Uncle Henry. I was then and for most of my growing days undersized. At the age of about four to five years I was out among the horses lots of times and occasionally stepped on by their big feet.

By five years old when going somewhere with teams with my Mother I was learning to drive the horses and soon was walking over a mile to school in the dead of winter. After about a year of that we moved into Meaford, then a town of less than 1000, or rather a village. We lived for years there except for one year or a little less on the old farm where I was born. This farm was a small place of about 20 to 25 acres, more than half of which was on the hill, and below the hill down to the Bay was a very stony rough pasture field.

Sometimes, when dogs from other places would hang around our buildings, some of the teamsters we had would tie a can to their tails and start them down the hill and over the stones. The dog would be ahead sometimes. If not, the can would be bounced ahead by striking stones.

During that summer on the little farm I attended school 1 1/8 miles south along the seventh line which was our road. The school was on the "gravel road" leading from Meaford to Owen Sound. At this school the master forced me to change holding my pen in the left hand, which was natural to me as I am in nearly everything left handed except where I have used will power to change. There was no instruction in pen holding, movement or writing. The master couldn't teach me what he didn't know.

After the kind of life touched on above, we lived on in Meaford until I was 23 years old. Our family then consisted of three boys and eight girls living. One little girl had died when about 16 months old. During those years I usually went to school rather regularly until about eleven years old. From that time on I was doing a good deal of teaming work except for about three months in school in winter, perhaps rather more than that some years, until the age of thirteen, then just a short winter term until I was 17 when I attended about 9 mos (in 1877) when I passed a teacher's examination, 3rd class. The certificate was withheld a few months because I wasn't 18 yet. That fall I took the teachers model school term at Owen Sound.

When not at school my time was put in teaming. We usually had eight or nine horses but once as high as 15. This teaming gave a varied experience in handling horses and all sorts of materials over every kind of road, in all sorts of weather, generally in daytime but often at night, and over all kinds of roads most of them hilly, nearly all stony, and many just dirt roads. Often I would be on the road at night alone and, if something went wrong with the load, I would have to deal with it in darkness. Heavy loads over specially bad spots in the road some [of] them in winter where sleighs in passing each other would destroy the edges of the track were common experiences.

Often a load of loose miscellaneous lumber on a wagon would shift so much with jolting [as] to be in danger of sliding on top of the horses going down hills. This if very bad would mean unloading and reloading part or all of the load. Once such a load of strips slid ahead and the horses ran away from me. About a mile farther on, the load and hind wheels were separated and upset. The horses ran half a mile farther and ended up with the front wheels in a creek where they had been steered by the lines which had got wrapped around a hub.

One test of a new teamster was his skill in missing stones on the roads. Any ordinary teamster would hit some, but it took an expert or an awful greenhorn to hit them all.

We moved buildings in town through the streets, hauled household goods, long hewn timber, saw logs, wood, hay, lumber, brick, stone, lime, sand, water, gravel; [we] graded and graveled roads, loaded grain on schooners, unloaded lumber from schooners, hauled lumber from mill to yard for piling. I used to hoist barrels of salt out of the hold of a schooner with one horse, using ropes, and pulleys on the rigging.

On some trips in the surrounding hilly country, if there were two teams we often "doubled" up hills - put two teams on one wagon at a time. Otherwise a load would have to be lighter for one team. A few miles from Meaford in almost any direction would bring us to hills.

In the summers of 1871, '72, '73, our teams were hired by the Dominion government to go by boat from Collingwood to Port Arthur on Thunder Bay, along the north shore of Lake Superior, entered between Thunder Cape 1750 ft. high, and Pie Island, 600 ft. high. Port Arthur was the starting point of the Dawson route - a series of portages, lakes and rivers making a through all Canadian way to the Red River settlement, now the Province of Manitoba. This road was superintended by S.J. Dawson. The loads were general supplies and the effects of farmers from eastern provinces, mostly Ontario, moving to the new prairie country. After our teams had been there in [the] summers of 1871 and 1872, I went in 1873, driving a team on the 46 miles from Port Arthur to Lake Shebandowan, which is 26 miles long and from 3/4 to 3 miles wide, a beautiful sheet of water with an unusually fine beach.

During that summer Father left us on the Port Arthur end and went on with a team to the western end of the route, 110 miles from the North West Angle, Lake of the Woods to Fort Garry, now called Winnipeg, and one of our teams was sent to one of the smaller portages. The team road [from] Port A. to Shebandowan was graded, the work being done by volunteer soldiers on their way to Fort Garry to quell the rebellion started by Louis Riel, who stirred up Indians and half breeds on account of alleged grievances. We crossed the River Kaministiqua or quay twenty miles out of Port A, the Mattawan about thirteen miles from that and the Ascondega about seven miles farther.

One rainy day when the horses legs were plastered with the red clay of that region, we put several horses into the Mattawan to get them clean. My two were coming out when some of the men recklessly shoved them back into the current, and they both went down under the bridge close to the falls just below. Fance, the mare, was cute enough to edge over to the opposite side and got ashore just barely clear of the falls. Jim, the horse, was in midstream and went over the falls tail first; the current lifted his front part and he turned a backward somersault over the falls and out of sight at the foot head, down into the deep water. He came up in a minute or less but it seemed like half an hour and, with a whale snort, swam to shore in record time.

When another lot of volunteers came through, we hauled their belongings over this 46 miles. The first night out, while [we were] camped, the little mare, Fance was stabbed by a soldier who had been ordered in early morning to move her. He let her intestines out on her side. We were supposed to get $150.00 from the Government for her but, as nearly as I remember, they paid us about half that amount.

The same summer, 1873, the Government sent through three lots of Mounted Police to keep order in the prairie country. We hauled them over the 46 miles in "democrat" spring wagons. I drove three different loads of them.

One of our jobs that summer was to haul tug boats sent up the lakes from Collingwood for service on [the] lakes and rivers in this Dawson Route. They were taken out of the water, engines removed, and the hull turned keel upward on wagons and trucks. On the first we had 12 horses, on the second 10, and [on] the third 12. Father drove the three teams (6 horses) nearest the boat, and each pair of the other teams was handled by its own teamster who rode one of the horses. Going around sharp turns it would be necessary to swing the forward teams over the big draw chain so they could pull far enough away from the corner to miss it. The first tug was loaded on a big truck with a 35 ft. reach but was badly damaged and the second was loaded on a close coupled truck in front and a wagon for the stern end. Two men sat on the wagon under the boat and steered the hind end around turns with ropes fastened to each side and to the end of the tongue, like firemen with a ladder truck. Hauling the three boats took a month.

As we were not on schedule, our eats were not at regular stopping places, but were furnished by a "chuck" wagon and some rough and ready cooks. The wagon kept with us. For sleeping we made beds in the open on the woods side of the ditch in the grass with an oil tarpaulin under us, then some blankets and a lighter tarpaulin over us.

This whole region is on the mineral order and "Thunder Bay" is an appropriate name. The town [of] Port Arthur is beautifully situated. Just back of the town, reached by a succession of plateau steps, there is a fine view of the town, the country adjoining the Bay, and mountains.

In October I left Port Arthur for home by boat, a trip of over four days. Father was still at the Fort Garry end and didn't get started back until Nov. He sold his horses and started back with a trunk size box containing some clothing and a quantity of furs - five mink skins, one otter, two beaver, forty muskrat, and three buffalo robes. He soon found the lakes and rivers were freezing to stop boats and had to walk through the woods dragging the box and camping anywhere he could. Where there was some ice he pulled the box behind him, often when the ice was cracking. The last day he was without food along side of Lake Shebandowan and the next day was met by two men with food. After reaching Port Arthur he went to Collingwood by boat as I had done.

In the winters when the Owen Sound to Collingwood boat was laid up, we hauled the goods the boat usually carried with sleighs. The railway ended at Collingwood. Our loads from the railway were mostly store goods but sometimes there would be a boiler for a mill, or a long heavy chain. Meaford was 22 miles and from there to O.S. 19 miles. In spring when snow was melting, the roads in clearings would soon be bare which meant wagons. But in the woods parts the snow would lie for two or three weeks or until boats started. This made it necessary to force wagons through this snowy kind of road which was the worst we had, and the swaying of the wagon tongue was hard on horses. One died from the pounding of the tongue against her shoulder.

On our down trip towards Collingwood, we often had loads of frozen dressed hogs. I once had such a load and going over [a] deep snow bank after a thaw followed by freezing weather making a crust on the snow, the sleigh runners cut through the crust on one side and tipped the load over on its side. It was a moonlight night and I was alone. Handling the heavy hogs was impossible - I was then about 12 yrs. old. I loosened the doubletree from the sleigh and swung the horses around to the high side, hitched a rope or chain to a pig's head and the doubletree, and pulled the load to a level, then drove on. This sort of work and teaming generally ended 1876.

I began teaching in regular positions in April 1878 at Griersville, a four corners four miles south of Meaford, finishing the year there, then put in the next two years at a school on the 11th line south. That was a satisfactory school to work with and the two year stay gave me a chance to start some pupils at the beginning and carry them thru the second class with results that were satisfactory. I had 53 in attendance one June day. Before the two year period was quite done I was laid up with what was called congestion of the lungs and fever. I have never had reason to believe it was anything worse than a cold and a run down condition. [Two of his sisters, and probably one brother, died of tuberculosis.] The winter was very cold with heavy snow and I didn't get out until Feb.

That summer I went to Rama Portage about 10 miles north of the beautiful town of Orillia on Lake Couchiching. The Portage also borders on Lake St. John "Singan" which is a black shiny snaky body of water less than two miles across. This lake received the logs cut about 70 miles north and floated down on the "drive" by the river, then carried by a set of cog wheel tramways to Lake Couchiching. Part of my job there was to scale these logs as the engine moved them along the cogs. Besides the log work I thinned 6 acres turnips, took care of six horses, raked hay, fought fires &c. Not far from Portage on Lake C was the Indian village. There was a Methodist church with a white preacher and Indian Choir, good singers. This log business and the farm belonged to Thompson Smith & Son, also a larger mill at Alpena, Mich. Walter Saunders worked there as book keeper and general office man. His brother Rans had been the manager, was succeeded by the brother in law, Tom Cameron.

I left the place in Nov. for Meaford and in November entered the law office of Wilson & Evans as law clerk. This gave me a good experience in collections, the protest of notes, conveyancing which was too difficult for the real estate men and the copying of many kinds of legal documents and some bookkeeping. As summer is vacation time in law, I spent some weeks in 1882 with Uncle Geo. Williams at harvesting and threshing. Pulled peas with a scythe. In Dec 1882, I left for Belleville, Ont. to take a course in Ontario Business College, having already taken lessons in penmanship by mail from H W Kibbe, Utica, NY, one of the few all round penmen in the U.S. The business course was finished in March. My percentage in Bookkeeping, Business Papers and Correspondence was 100 and the general average 95%, on account of one incorrect answer in Arithmetic.

From Belleville, after being home a while I went to Woodstock College on trial as assistant to J W Westervelt in the Commercial school, and to take some classes in the preparatory dept - main school. I boarded at the College and was head of a table of 12, getting my initiation in carving with a dull knife and small inferior roasts. I started carving by holding the carver in my right hand, though left handed.

After two years at Woodstock it seemed we were limited in our activities and Westervelt & I went into partnership to conduct a school in London. We opened there in July 1885, facing an unscrupulous opposition and with very little capital. By thorough work and some advertising we had the field in less than two years. My work was Junior Arithmetic, bookkeeping, Business Papers, Correspondence, Commercial Law and the Practice Dept. About four strenuous years broke my health. In March, 1889, I went for treatment to Dr. Isaac Bentley in Detroit, a good doctor and constant friend. In May I went back to London to settle up and sever connection with the F.C.B.C., then to Meaford.

Some of our family had already gone to Manitoba and Assiniboia and I went there to build up health and see the folks and the country, leaving on the 8th of June by Can. Pac. steamer Athabasca from Owen Sound for Port Arthur with sister Beth 17 years old, Ella 15, and Stanley 13, arriving at P.A. Monday 10 a.m. As our train for Winnipeg did not leave until 2 p.m., Stanley and I got a livery horse and buggy and drove up the old Dawson road to six mile creek which I had travelled scores of times in 1873. We used the colonist sleeper car to Winnipeg, rather rough but comfortable. From Winnipeg 56 miles down to Carman where some of our own and other Meaford folds were living.

After a few weeks visiting there and at Rosebank and Morden, I went on to Regina to visit L.C. York, a half brother of my Father, from there on to Touchwood Hills, then Assiniboia, now Saskatchewan, going to Ft. Qu'Appelle by stage in a thunderstorm. At the Fort I met at the hotel a young man who was spending his vacation as a missionary at Touchwood. He was driving a borrowed mare "Doll" belonging to brother in law Chas Perry and a borrowed buckboard by which we drove the 41 miles to the Hudson Bay post at Touchwood where we had dinner with the store keeper and to Perry's arriving there July 19 and where I was to stay for exactly six years but not all with Mr. Perry. My sister having died five years before, he was keeping "bach" roughly alone.

Stayed with him working at haying &c. in summer and hauling and handling hay and stock in winter. This was then a stock country with horses and cattle running at large and very little grain farming, the fields being fenced. In the winter [of] 1890, Uncle Geo. Williams and family were coming from Meaford to settle and Mr. Perry drove the 80 miles to Qu'Appelle to meet them and haul some of their goods. I cared for stock, got my own meals, milked, &c. During that trip there was [a] continuous snow storm and roads were so heavy it took nearly a week to come the 80 miles. Uncle and family stayed with us until they got their log house ready in early summer. We were crowded but enjoyed better meals. Soon after Uncle moved, Father and Mother arrived from Meaford, bringing Verna and Fred Perry to their Father.

As in those days many things were hard to get near by since the country generally was so new, it was necessary to go long distances either away east or very much out of the way in the west for such things as better sires for stock improvement, building materials, etc., we decided that I should make a trip in the fall of 1890 to our old home at Meaford. Starting to Regina to make that trip, Mr. Perry and I drove some cattle for sale. On the 8.5m tramp we camped overnight in the deep valley of Loon Creek about half way, and rain fell all night making the cattle restless and hard to see in the dark. One of us at a time watched while the other slept, but the cattle got up and left towards morning. They were found afterwards.

We went on to Regina where I boarded a train for the east. In Meaford I got a set of harness, bobsleighs, wagon, odds and ends of hardwood and some furniture belonging to Father and Mother, flooring and shingles for their house, three mares, a Polled Angus bull calf, four Shropshire sheep and three pairs of pure bred poultry. The brown Leghorns were mine. They were hardy and left their impress on the barn yard flocks in that section. In this car was a barrel for water which I filled at the various stopping places and gave the animals drink whenever a stop was made, except in the night, also fed when necessary. The journey took about a week and as the horses couldn't lie down or move around during that time, they were glad enough to be unloaded at Qu'Appelle.

Hauling the whole carload 80 miles to Touchwood at one trip was impossible though some of the folks met me and handled part of it. The young bull and some lumber were left at Carroll's, 9 miles out. The next trip down for the left overs was late in Nov. and cold. I built a stall in the corner of the wagon for the young bull and packed the lumber around it, then drove the 65 miles to Touchwood. Where I camped at night was a stopping place for me. For cover I used a wagon cover stretched over bows which were sharpened at the bottom and forced a little into the frozen ground and the only mattress was the long dry slough grass, the canvas cover against the side of the wagon. With good bedding I was comfortable. No fire except to make tea. The young bull stood the trip well but was killed the next June by sand flies which were fatal to many yearling horses and cattle, the only flies that killed any stock. They seemed to get into the lungs.

Before this trip east, I had entered for homestead the S.W. ¼ of sec.36, township 29, range 16, w2, and, as preemption, the n.w. ¼ sec. From July 1889 until May 1892 I had worked and lived with C. Perry. In the summer besides chores I cut from 100 tons up of hay in sloughs which grew the tall thatch grass and blue joint. In dry summers we had to go to the Big Touchwood Hills, as the snow in the woods melting in spring would fill sloughs and grow grass without going dry so early as the outside ones nearer home.

In the winter of 1890-91 we had a log shack in the woods where I boarded myself and hewed logs of white poplar (aspen) for Father's house and a stable. In 1891 I began settlement duties on my own homestead by breaking and fencing ten acres of prairie, cropping this in 1892 and in May got Brother George to come from Toronto while I went to Yorkton to take charge of a school at Armstrong Lake about 75 miles from home, south east. I left Oct. 31 for home again and built a little log house on my own place and stabling for horses and a few cattle. Bro. George was with me that winter but went back east before spring. That winter, from Jan. 24 to Feb. 7, the thermometer ranged close to 60 below zero every morning, "warming" during the day to 20 or 30 below zero. I had good stabling and feed for my stock. Gavin Strang who had got the ranch idea took 80 head of cattle into the woods to winter outdoors. They had scanty feed, no water and hardly any shelter but the woods. This roughing it would not have been disastrous in ordinary winters but 40 head died, and no further attempts were made to imitate the big ranch idea. In some degree the big ranchers had to learn the same lesson.

Like other heavy winters, this one was followed by good crop growth and plenty of the native grass for hay.

In most of my team work I drove two horses, on the breaking plow three, and a few times for special conditions four.

I took to handle on shares from Geo Grant five cows. With two of my own they gave me a modest start as they were well cared for.

Mr. Perry, as inducement to stay, had given me two colts. One I gave to George, the other "Harry" was a handsome broncho of the better type - a very dark chestnut with four white stockings. Sam, a knock kneed colt of the same age was sired by a roadster. With Harry I had a smart team for the road and for mowing. The heavier mares were good for other work. I traded the young Clydesdale mare with Baden for five cows, - two of these were white and two were red Galloways - hornless. The other a red and white with horns.

My stock was slowly taking shape and was the foundation of a good herd. But waiting for results was slow, and in 1895 I sold the cattle, the two horses Sam and Harry, and a big black colt Kate to Pete Wunder of Sheko and the old mare Nell to C. Perry. In 1893, I had driven 85 miles to Regina with neighbors beef cattle, one white cow, and two steers. 1894 was a dry summer and beef was very low. Good steers sold on the hoof 2 to 2/4 c lb. and some poorer ones for less. The share cattle were divided up in 1895. I left for the east July 20, 6 years from arrival July 19/89.

There were cattle to drive to the market 80 miles and neighbors got together in such drives; after getting started which was the hard part as some animals would always try to cut out and turn back, one man would be on horseback to handle the herd while the other drove the wagon on which were supplies. When we got the cattle disposed of at Qu'Appelle I started on my journey east, making a side trip to Carman. George and wife were there and he was far gone in consumption. He died there in Nov. at the age of 30. From Carman I went by rail to Port Arthur, from there by Can Pac boat to Owen Sound, then another boat to Meaford arriving there Aug 4, 1895. When I got to Uncle Trout's, I met Mary McKaig and her sister Jessie who are the ones that Billy and Stanley call Grandma and Aunt Jessie.

After some visiting, picnics, and a trip to Owen Sound, the McKaigs left for Detroit. A week or so afterwards I went to Toronto, Hamilton, London and Detroit. As there was no work to be had, I went back to Toronto and had some conference with Edward Trout, then owner of the British Amer Bus. College. After some time in Meaford, I went back [to] Toronto as an assistant at the Br. Amer. B.C. and stayed there December, Jan., Feb and March.

My work was not very interesting and the job was a temporary winter extra with very little class work. [I] then left for Detroit. In a few weeks I got a position with Fee & Brown Co., pickles, preserves, baking powder, catsup, prepared mustard &c., keeping their books at $10 per week. I stayed with this company, latterly known as the Avery Preserving Co., until Feb. 6, 1901, when there was a break up between the Averys and the manager of this business, one of the smallest of the Avery enterprises. As the manager gave every evidence that he was crooked and not dependable, Avery's sold out to him and I left in a few days.

After two weeks Geo. Avery sent for me and gave me a letter of introduction to the manager of the Detroit, Belle Isle & Windsor Ferry Co. whose accountant, an elderly man, was ill and not likely to recover. My highest pay with the Preserving Co. was $13.50 per week, and I began with the Ferry Co. at that figure Feb. 26, 1901, was raised to $15 about a week afterwards and in May to $17.50 per week which continued through 1901. For the next year I was raised to $1000⁰⁰, then the following spring, when my predecessor died, to $20 a week as he had been getting; at the end of 1902, this was raised to $1100⁰⁰ or $21¹⁰ per week. Each year after that the amount was increased $100 except in 1910 it was raised $300⁰⁰. In March 1917, when I left there, I was getting $2600⁰⁰ a year and they added $300⁰⁰ when I left.

There was an uneventful even tenor about my work there usually. Gradually accounts were added as the Bois Blanc excursion grew, the Amusement Building for the Merry Go Round, the big dance pavilion with a floor 100 ft x 200, the Souvenir store, and finally the "Whip". Also the purchase of Peche Island in Lake St. Clair, formerly owned by the Walkers, with a view of a new excursion route more important than Belle Isle, and a shorter trip than Bois Blanc. Then the purchase of the big hardware store building next to the Ferry Co. building.

In 1902, the Columbia was built for the Bois Blanc business with a carrying capacity of 3566. She has as dimensions 216' long over all and about 52 ft. beam over guards. In 1906, the Britannia 180 x 45 ft. carrying at first 2700 people but reduced after the Eastland disaster to 2500, the best ice breaker on the river. In 1910, the Ste. Claire was built at Toledo. Length 200 ft. over all, width I believe 54 ' over guards, carrying at first 3400, reduced to 3200.

About 1904 (I think), the Immigration dept. began the collection of Alien head tax on Europeans, beginning with $2 and increased in something less than 2 years to $4, then to $8, and applied to Canada and Mexico. The money was not handled as actual cash by the Immigration officers. It was paid by their orders to the transportation company which landed the aliens. Many of them came by way of Canada and paid us a 5¢ fare, or 2½¢ if they knew enough about fares to buy a strip of 10 for 25¢. We had to handle the tax money the same as a Trans-Atlantic line would in New York. At the end of each month the U.S. Commissioner at Montreal would send us the receipts issued that month to the inspectors (not to aliens). Then I would send a New York draft to him payable to the Commissioner General of Immigration, Washington. There would be refunds in cases where aliens had paid the tax but were not subject to it. Very strong evidence was necessary to convince officers that a refund was required.

The inspectors varied in calibre and experience and very much in their handling of aliens. They were evidently drawn largely from the ranks - or perhaps the agitators - of labor unions. The American union labor group are opposed to immigration. Many of these officers were crude, rough and autocratic, with the alien absolutely at their mercy without a come back.

In 1915, the Interstate Commerce Commission demanded a report of our 1914 business based on their own classifications which were on a wholly different basis from ours with no choice. It was my job to tear to pieces our accounts already written up and warp and revamp the whole record to accord with ICC accounting, also to provide for the future by changing the classifications and rearranging 1915 up to date.

This was the task at hand when I returned from the California trip, and the excursion season just ahead. After three annual reports, the last of which I believe was never sent, the accountants of the ICC decided what I knew at the first, that our business was not in any real sense Interstate and hence we were not under their jurisdiction.