
I have not had any opportunity of writing to you since Wednesday morning, when I was at
Fenelon Falls.—Immediately after dinner Tom Rutherford came for me & drove me out to his farm, 5
miles out; where I stayed till the following afternoon. I enjoyed the visit immensely. Tom
himself is a man well worth knowing & we were soon great friends—(for
Fred Wild's sake as well as his own.) He is simply an average farmer—not educated—but a fine
fellow in all the essential qualities of manhood, cute, intelligent, industrious, faithful, true, &
a warm-hearted friend, husband & father. My friend Fred Wild thinks a
lot of him & has kept up a steady correspondence with him for the last 17 years. And it was
delightful to me to see how deep & warm was the friendship on Tom's side.—And as
I have heard so much of him for so many years, it was like meeting an old friend of my own.
At any rate we are friends now!
He farms 55 acres, which he has cleared himself. He has had a rough laborious life, but is doing well & prospering—though slowly. It was a novel experience to me to see backwood's farming & life, but I enjoyed it very much.—I liked too to get out into the "bush"—chipmunks calling & playing about me—one little fellow descending a tree in front of me & playing about for fully 5 minutes before running off amid the rustling leaves.

The following afternoon Tom took me down to Sturgeon Point—2 miles away—where I took the steamer along Lake Sturgeon to Bobcaygeon. I called on a friend of Fred Wild's there, & stayed all night. Bobcaygeon is quite a pleasure resort during the season—people going there from Buffalo & Rochester, & even from Kansas (Indian name, meaning short, shallow rapids)—Took steamer back next morning (Friday) to Sturgeon Point & up to Tom's. After dinner he drove me back to Fenelon Falls, where I caught the 4 o'clock train here—Tom seeing me off with moist eyes.
Reached Haliburton @ 7 oclock. (It is the terminus north of the Grand Trunk Ry.) Was met by
Mrs Stewart who drove me here. The house here is a boarding house during the season
(now over) & is beautifully situated at the end of a small lake—(one of a chain of
lakes)—Haliburton being at the
other end.—Mr Stewart came out here 28 years ago—used to be a journallist in
London—& is Crown Land Agent here. He is a well read, clever & entertaining
man whom I heartily like. He has 11 children, nearly all married, & has 3 or 4 sons
in the States (Is strongly in favor of Annexation).—Yesterday he took me in a boat to the second lake,
7 miles from here, to visit a young farmer who is sick. I enjoyed it very much, the hills
at the sides of the lake wooded down to the water's edge—occasional clearings & farmsteads
at distant intervals.—
This morning we have a little rain, & I write this in Mr. S's office overlooking the lake. I propose to leave here on Tuesday morning for New York via Kingston, Albany, & the Hudson River.
I have not heard of you since Monday, but hope that you are keeping "the better side out." With love to you always.
Yours affectionately J. W. Wallace