Let the foe come—­we will not shrink
    To meet them if they dare;
  Well must they fight, ere rashly think
  To rend apart one sacred link
    That binds our country fair
  To that dear isle, from whence we sprung;
    Which gave our fathers birth;
  Whose glorious deeds her bards have sung;
    The unrivall’d of the earth. 
  The highest privilege we claim,
  To own her sway—­to bear her name.

  Then, courage, loyal volunteers! 
    God will defend the right;
  That thought will banish slavish fears,
  That blessed consciousness still cheers
    The soldier in the fight. 
  The stars for us shall never burn,
    The stripes may frighten slaves,
  The Briton’s eye will proudly turn
    Where Britain’s standard waves. 
  Beneath its folds, if Heaven requires,
  We’ll die, as died of old our sires!

In a week, Moodie returned.  So many volunteers had poured into Toronto that the number of friends was likely to prove as disastrous as that of enemies, on account of the want of supplies to maintain them all.  The companies from the back townships had been remanded, and I received with delight my own again.  But this re-union did not last long.  Several regiments of militia were formed to defend the colony, and to my husband was given the rank of captain in one of those then stationed in Toronto.

On the 20th of January, 1838, he bade us a long adieu.  I was left with old Jenny and the children to take care of the farm.  It was a sad, dull time.  I could bear up against all trials with him to comfort and cheer me, but his long-continued absence cast a gloom upon my spirit not easily to be shaken off.  Still his very appointment to this situation was a signal act of mercy.  From his full pay, he was enabled to liquidate many pressing debts, and to send home from time to time sums of money to procure necessaries for me and the little ones.  These remittances were greatly wanted; but I demurred before laying them out for comforts which we had been so long used to dispense with.  It seemed almost criminal to purchase any article of luxury, such as tea or sugar, while a debt remained unpaid.

The Y—–­y’s were very pressing for the thirty pounds that we owed them for the clearing; but they had such a firm reliance upon the honour of my husband, that, poor and pressed for money as they were, they never sued us.  I thought it would be a pleasing surprise to Moodie, if, with the sums of money which I occasionally received from him, I could diminish this debt, which had always given him the greatest uneasiness; and, my resolution once formed, I would not allow any temptation to shake it.

The money was always transmitted to Dummer.  I only reserved the sum of two dollars a month, to pay a little lad to chop wood for us.  After a time, I began to think the Y—–­y’s were gifted with secondsight; for I never received a money-letter, but the very next day I was sure to see some of the family.