Читать книгу Zorra Boys at Home and Abroad - Rev. W. A. MacKay - Страница 8

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In the strong, well-defined features of the accompanying engraving many of my readers will recognize the full development of the stout, sportive, muscular boy of fifty years ago. He was then known as Sandy Suthelan (Sutherland), and sometimes as Sandy Benjy, to distinguish him from another Sandy in the same neighborhood. He attended the small log school-house built on the south-east corner of Hugh Anderson's farm, 9th line East Zorra. This was about a mile from his home. He says, "As soon as I was able to walk so far, I was sent to school, and I recollect my father driving a yoke of oxen dragging a log after them, to make a track for me in the snow to the school."

This, it may be added, was no unusual experience in those days. To get the boys of Zorra to school, no compulsory education law was necessary. Whatever the motive, the Zorra pioneers highly appreciated the value of education for both their boys and girls, and in many cases, I have no doubt, they were strongly reminded of their duty by the consciousness of their own lack of learning, until often, like their prototypes in Drumtochty, they were willing to live on "skim milk and oat cake, to let the children have a chance."

In the case of Alexander Sutherland, the boy was father of the man, and his schoolmates of half a century ago are not surprised to read of him to-day as one of the wealthy men, and one of the famous inventors, of the United States, whose business extends into almost every State of the Union.

We remember him as the expert athlete of the school, full of fun, apparently ready to explode with pent-up energy, always ready for some practical joke. When the taws could not be found, there was a general suspicion that Sandy knew something about it; when the tack, point up, was found in the teacher's chair so that the Dominie, suddenly sitting on it, quickly rose with a shriek, Sandy was the boy that didn't laugh; when a large-sized caricature of the teacher was pinned to the back of his coat, the general opinion was that Sandy did it; when a greedy, selfish fellow forcibly took an apple from Sandy, as he had often done before, and in eating that apple found a mouthful of red pepper, it was gravely suspected that Sandy put the pepper into the apple "on purpose"; and when a big boy, the clown of the school, one day suddenly doubled up and shrieked with pain, which was found to proceed from a wasp in his pants pocket, it was observed by the scholars that the big boy had just previously been wrestling with Sandy Suthelan, and suspicion pointed to Sandy as having put the wasp in the pocket. Sandy had a keen sense of the ridiculous, and would tell the boys how one spring morning when the snow was fast disappearing, Andrew McKenzie, a neighboring Highlander, thus accosted him, "Weel, Mr. Suzzerland, I shink we're goin' to have a saw."

While kind-hearted enough, he was regarded as stylish, or uppish in his manners, and too dressy for the ordinary country Highlander of that day. May we not here learn a lesson as to the importance to the boy who would succeed in life, of dressing himself neatly if not stylishly. Boys, never be slovenly or careless in your appearance.

I remember, also, his brother James and the many circus tricks he could play. Standing with one foot on the back of a horse, he would ride as fast as the horse could run. He could revolve at a rapid speed in the manner of a wheel, throwing out his hands and feet for spokes, and making his body the hub of the wheel.

Alexander Sutherland still delights to tell of the freaks and tricks of his early days in Zorra. "I was," writes he, "rather a plain-looking youth. My hair was very straight and black, and, like all Zorra boys, I wore it long. My brother James had brown wavy hair, and was quite a favorite with the young ladies of our acquaintance. I was determined to become so. I imagined that all I had to do to gain this end was to get my hair curled like his. So before going to the next party or 'spree,' I was careful to get my hair well curled. An old bachelor friend of our family told me I looked well. (The brute!) That night not one girl would dance with me, and I was puzzled. I had made the mistake of trying to be like another. Many keep erring all their lives in that way. I hope the lesson was not lost upon me. In aping another I looked neither like him nor like myself. My mother wouldn't have known me. Since that night I have tried always to be real, to be myself, to be what God intended me to be."

The old spelling match was at one time as popular in Zorra as hockey and football are today among the boys of our towns and cities, and perhaps much more profitable. Those living on one concession would usually be pitted against those on another. The contest would take place in a school-house, which was sure to be packed to the door. The school-master, or one of the best scholars in the neighborhood, would be selected to give out the "spellings." Every old spelling-book and every other book, from Johnson's Dictionary to Ayer's Almanac, would be ransacked for hard words. Long and careful preparation was made by the intending contestants; and when the night came, excitement in the district ran as high as in a modern political election.

Each concession line was represented by fifteen or twenty spellers, chosen weeks beforehand; and as each speller scored a point against his competitor, great was the cheering of his friends. The excitement steadily increased as the contestants grew fewer, and the words became harder. Mr. Sutherland gives his experience on one of these occasions. He says:

"One night six of us went out to spell down the 11th line school. We all went on horseback. I don't recollect all six, but Hugh Anderson, James Fletcher and myself were three of them. We were good spellers, but were beaten. One of the 11th line young men gave out the 'spellings,' and exhausted several spelling books. At last he took up an old dictionary. An 11th line lad and I were the last on the floor. Soon my Waterloo came. The word 'mosquito' was given. I put an 'e' at the end; he put two 't's' in it. We were given another chance. I left the final 'e' off, and he spelled it 'muischetto' and won for the 11th line. We were shown the word, and it was so in the book. I now wonder who compiled that dictionary."

But the evening's entertainment was not yet over. One of Mr. Sutherland's party suggested a practical joke. There was at this time a toll-keeper on the 12th line below Lappin's Hotel, who was notorious throughout the district as an irritable, profane and extremely disagreeable creature. On that night the boys determined after the spelling match to have some fun with this cross man. So all six turned out of their way, and headed for the toll-gate, of course, not intending to go through. After much din they roused the crankiest fellow in the township. It was a cold night, and after 12 o'clock, and coming out of a warm bed the man was more than ordinarily cross. He growled at the young men for being out so late. One of the party asked him how much he would charge for all six horses passing through.

"Thirty cents, you young saphead," was the answer.

"We'll not give you more than ten," replied the spokesman of the party.

Then began a stream of skilfully assorted profanity which would stagger Satan. The toll-keeper needed neither candle nor book, and yet the Jackdaw of Rheims never heard anything like it. Ordinary profanity was, as Mark Twain would say, "rudimentary" in comparison with it.

When he had done he was asked if he would not let all go through for twenty cents. The man's strength and vocabulary were both insufficient for the occasion, and with a panting effort he shouted "No!"

"Well," was the reply, "we won't go through. Good night!" and the boys galloped home feeling that they had paid off some old scores.

His old Zorra chums still enjoy telling how, one dark night, Sandy was returning home from a "party" on the ninth line. He had to pass through a piece of dark woods. Just as he entered the dismal forest he thought he heard a rustling among the leaves, and also saw some black thing moving in his direction. It was a bear, no doubt. Quick as thought, Sandy turned and took to his heels. Soon he appeared at the house he so recently left, pale, speechless and almost breathless, and related, as well as he could, his adventure. It was a pioneer sensation. Quickly every man and boy present armed himself with some weapon; pitchforks, axes, spades, knives were never in greater demand. Under the leadership of Sandy, the excited crowd boldly marched to the spot of danger, but Bruin was not to be found. In vain the woods were searched through and through, and many, as well as loud, were the challenges given out. The Canadians at Paardeberg were not more brave, nor half so noisy. During this midnight hunt Sandy quietly slipped away and went home; and soon after it was confidently whispered, that Sandy was only shamming, that he had seen no bear, but just wanted to "fool the boys."

At the age of seventeen Mr. Sutherland was sent to learn the grocery business with J. & A. Clark, of Woodstock; but here he remained only about a year. During this time the following amusing incident occurred. One day a raw young lad from the country came into the store wishing to purchase a mouth organ. The innocence of the young fellow, seeking for a mouth organ in a grocery store, struck Sutherland as ridiculous. Keeping a serious look, he replied, "We have none here, but if you come with me to the next door we will perhaps get one." So saying, Mr. Sutherland led him into a dry-goods store, and giving a knowing wink to the clerk, quietly asked him for a glove stretcher. With this young Sutherland proceeded to measure the fellow's mouth, and holding it open the full width of his face, asked the salesman if he thought that he had a mouth organ to fit that. Looking very serious, the salesman answered, "I am very sorry to say we have not." The young fellow went away, sorry he was so hard to fit.

Leaving the grocery business, Sutherland entered the West End School, Woodstock, at that time taught by Mr. Henry Izard, of whom Mr. Sutherland still speaks in terms of the highest respect. In this school he chummed with John L. Murray and Peter Nichol, both of whom are now well-known ministers of the Gospel.

"Many a night," says Mr. Sutherland, "into the wee sma' hours, did John Murray and I wrestle with Colenso's Algebra. John was a better algebraist than I, but I was not easily excelled in Euclid; for I so thoroughly mastered the first four books that all I needed was the number of a proposition, and the number of the book containing it, and I would reel it off like 'The Chief End of Man.'"

Leaving school, Mr. Sutherland was soon engaged as a bookseller's clerk with William Warwick, of Woodstock. "This," he observes, "saved the County of Oxford the trouble and expense of another poor lawyer, for a lawyer is what I aspired to be."

In the bookselling business he continued about two years, and then started a country store of his own in the village of Maxwell, County Grey, Ont. Before leaving Woodstock his many friends honored him with a public supper, where many good things were said and happy predictions made concerning the ambitious and popular young man.

At the time of the Fenian Raid, in 1865, the military spirit ran high in Canada, and Mr. Sutherland showed himself a true patriot. He got together a fine rifle company, hired a drill sergeant, and had the men drilled at his own expense. However, the danger was soon over, and their services were not required. Mr. Sutherland says of this, "I was glad. I would not like to see a lot of reckless fellows like the Fenians shooting in my direction."

After this Mr. Sutherland moved to Stayner and then to Collingwood. Here he amassed considerable wealth, and was well known for his public spirit.

Selling his Collingwood business, he with a few friends bought 2,000 acres of very fine pine land near Barrie. For a while the business prospered, but suddenly, through a change in the American tariff, there came a panic among Canadian lumbermen, and Mr. Sutherland was left without a cent in the world.

He thus writes of his experience at this time: "So at the age of forty my entire capital consisted of a good, hopeful, cheerful wife, four dear little girls, the respect of my neighbors, and plenty of confidence in myself."

We cannot here go into all the ups and downs, the trials and triumphs of Mr. Sutherland's life at this time. He purchased a large interest in the American patent covering the McKinnon stylographic pen, which in Canada was worse than a failure. Mr. Sutherland, however, set his wits to work and improved upon it. Thus improved, he took it to New York, landing in the great city a perfect stranger, with a small brass model of the pen and a borrowed $50. All told him his patent would be a failure. "But I went to work," he says, "worked night and day, and within three months I had a good paying business. I advertised extensively, and in two years and a half I had agents all over the rest of the civilized world, as well as in every town and city in the United States, and did a large business.

"In less than four and a half years I made clear of all expenses a little over $30,000, and sold the business to a bookseller in the city for $68,000 more."

But the great financial event of his life took place fifteen years ago, when he was swindled into wonderful success. It happened in this way: He was induced to purchase a patent for making illuminating gas of a high candle-power, at the rate of ten cents per thousand feet. But though the model worked well, nothing could make a larger apparatus than the model work successfully.

After experimenting for the greater part of two years, paying expensive men to assist him, he gave it up. He then went to work and invented another apparatus for the same purpose, on an entirely different plan. This succeeded, and was the beginning of a career of uninterrupted and wonderful prosperity.

Mr. Sutherland is to-day one of the best known men in Wall Street, New York City. He is President of the Sutherland Construction and Improvement Company of New York, and president or director of half a dozen other companies, the aggregate capital stock of which runs into the millions, and his contracts run into hundreds of thousands of dollars annually.

Being asked, To what do you attribute your success in life? Mr. Sutherland replied: "When I achieved any degree of success I did it by first laying out a plan, and then with unswerving perseverance working out that plan and no other. Have a purpose and stick to it."

Self-reliance is a strong characteristic of this son of Zorra. Depend on yourself, is his motto. He writes: "Once, when a boy, I was thrown into deep water in a river by a much older boy, who was a good swimmer, and I was told to swim or drown. With many awkward flounderings, and much spluttering, I managed to keep afloat half the time, till I got ashore. Ever since that time I could swim.

"Apart from that time I have never gained anything by taking other people's advice, unless it was medical advice, and that wasn't right half the time."

Mr. Sutherland speaks with gratitude of his Christian parents and his religious home training, and concludes with these words, so important to every young man to-day: "I have noticed that those who have come nearest to living up to the Golden Rule have been the most uniformly successful, both as to character and competence."