Chapter 3
The Golden Dream
On a Thursday morning in February, 1905, William Pender drew back
the kitchen curtain his wife Iris had edged with lace. He looked past
the oil factories, past the docks, and beyond Job's Bridge. There lay
the city dock and workshops, and all the factories of the west end.
There was the planing mill, the biscuit factory, and the gas works.
A half mile farther west stood the rope walk. On Job Street above the
train station was the boot and shoe factory. Near that was the Imperial
Tobacco Company, where hundreds of women and youngsters rolled cigarettes
for the local shops.
Hidden among the factories were the little workshops. Tinsmiths made
by hand the tins, buckets, lamps and kettles everyone needed. Small
furniture workshops hired joiners, upholsterers, polishers, painters
and mattress makers.
Other workshops made parlour suites and fancy rockers of mahogany
and rosewood. Iris wanted to try and get some upholstering work. She
could sew the finest hand of all her friends, William thought. But he
worried about Alice Maud, their nine-year-old daughter. She was the
only one left at home. She was frail, and she needed her mother.
He looked past the bridge and St. Mary's steeple and the North Side's
factory roofs. Beyond all that lay streams, and woods, and farm land.
At least the government claimed it was farm land. William laughed into
his tea. This was all part of the golden dream, like the factories.
For twenty-five years the government had been saying too many men
were in the fishery. It started the railway and sent men on trains to
dig buckets of soil. It hired experts from England to look at the soil
in summer. The experts said Newfoundland was tropical. You could grow
anything here, they said. Corn and mangoes and apricots.
William had seen the government trying to get men out of the fishery.
It gave them farming grants and train tickets away from the shores.
It hired more experts to figure out what breeds of sheep could live
on the farms. There would be wool for all the clothing factories. There
was a new government department of farming and industry. The mangoes
and corn and apricots and factories were bound up with the sheep's wool
in the same golden dream.
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