| AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF
ELDER R. C. EVANS. CHAPTER I. BIRTHPLACE AND EARLY YEARS. I was born October 20, 1861, in Saint Andrews, a small village situated on North River, Argentile County, Province of Quebec. My mother was born in the same village, and there my father met and married her, the marriage being in 1845. My father’s health failed him soon after my birth, and he was forced to give up business; and what little of this world’s goods he had accumulated were soon consumed. When dreary months of sickness had passed away, and the sunshine of health was once more beaming upon our little home, father decided to leave the land of his birth (for he was born just fifteen miles from my birthplace), and bidding fare well to his friends he started for Upper Canada. Fortune smiled upon him, and soon he sent for mother and the family. He worked at his trade in the flour mills n Saint John, Ontario, for one year, after which he moved with the family to the city [27] of London, Ontario, where he resided till 1890, when he removed to Glencoe to spend his last days with my brother Thomas. I was the youngest of my father’s family. I attended the common school for about four years. I first earned money in my seventh year, by carrying newspapers for the London Herald after school hours. I carried a round of ninety-five papers for seventy cents a week. After working that route for nearly a year and a half I obtained another round of one hundred and sixty papers for ninety cents a week. This the reader may think was a poor bargain, for it meant a great deal more work and only twenty cents a week increase in salary. True; but twenty cents looked large and meant much to me in those days when my mother would anxiously wait on Saturday night for those wages. The reminiscences of those days are not all painful, for it was then and is now a pleasure to know that I did the best I could to earn an honest livelihood, and that my feeble efforts were appreciated, in that my employer and customers were pleased with me. And last, but not least, I had the satis faction of knowing that I did what I could to help my parents in the days when father had no work, and the grim wolf of poverty was at the door. I was in my tenth year when I left school and my round of papers for a position in Bryan’s brush factory. The hours of work were from 7 a. m. till 6 p. m., with one hour for dinner and rest, and I was compelled to leave school. At the end of the first week I received my wages, and walked home [28] very tired, but happy, for I could give my mother more money. My wages for the first six months were to be a dollar and twenty-five cents per week. I was working ten hours a day, and receiving only thirty-five cents per week more than my last round of papers brought me; but I was learning something and had bright hopes of more wages in the future; and again, those thirty-five cents would purchase many little things. My work was to singe the top of paint and whitewash brushes, and paint them. I had worked for two months when I was surprised to get an increase in wages of twenty-five cents per week. In time I found the paint and burnt hair was injuring my health, and when my mother requested me to leave, I did so, and for the next three years or more worked around as parcel boy in different stores, and for a time as news agent on the Grand Trunk Railroad. While working in the stores it was thought by some that my voice was good and I was soon permitted to attend entertainments and private parties with my older friends, and there would sing. It was not long until through going for the purpose of singing, I learned to dance. When this came to the ears of my mother, I was strictly forbidden to dance, and my entertainment privileges were withheld. But alas, mother’s orders came too late; I had learned to be what the boys call smart, that is, to make my mother believe stories which were deceptive, and in many ways (with the assistance of my brothers and friends.) I would be on the stage [29] and in the ballroom when mother thought I was elsewhere. I do not know that I ever willfully injured my fellow-man in those days, but I was merry and would do almost anything to have what was thought by me and by many others “a good time.” If there is any such thing as having a good time while in the world of folly and pride, I think I had it; but I would not give one hour in a good prayer meeting, or gathering where God’s Saints are met, for all the pleasures of the world about which I know anything. Thus passed my fifteenth year. I was but a child, yet I had passed through more and seen more of the world and its allurements than many twice my age. Some fourteen months before this time my father had connected himself with “a peculiar people,” known as Latter Day Saints. Our family gave little heed to this, as father had always had very strange views with reference to religion. Mother would often feel ashamed when the minister would come to our house and father would air his views on certain doctrinal points. It had been apparent for a number of years that father was a poor Episcopalian, though he and mother, with their parents, were all members of the Church of England. Father had played an instrument and mother had sung in the choir in that church for years. When father left the church of his fathers, it caused mother many bitter tears. The rest of the house did not care, but poor mother refused to be comforted, and would wend her way to church alone. [30] |
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