1944-1945 Year Book - the Gatineau Valley Historical Society

58 Ottawa Ski Club Year Book 1944-45
pended his energy plodding up
Dunlop road, and all Wilf Gosselin's
giddaps, gees and haws
were of no avail-he refused !-o
tighten the traces, let alone do
the hauling he had been hired
for.
Of course, Bill was mortified
at this needless expenditure of
club funds. (We all know how
economical Bill is with the club's
money, unless it's a matter of
steam-heated cabins and Beautyrest
mattresses for his precious
Night Riders!) But we
needed a horse badly, with the
hauling that was to be done, so
the Night Rider Captain scratched
his head in deep · contemplation.
Suddenly he had an inspiration.
"Wilf," he exclaimed enthusiastically,
"let's buy a horse!"
Wilf Gosselin, the genial caretaker
of Camp Fortune, looked
up with surprise, and the Dunlop
horse contentedly sank to its
knees.
"What do you mean, Billwho
should buy a horse?" he
asked.
"I mean, why should the rlub
hire a worn-out skate that won't
work? Why couldn't we buy a
horse ourselves?"
"Sure,. that's a good idea. We
could use one all the year round.
You ·get permission to spend the
money and I'll scout around the
country for a good horse."
But it was not so easy as
that. Bill consulted the hardboiled
executive of the club and
they were adamant-no hor;;;e.
President Mortureux said it was
unconstitutional, that neither
our constitution nor by-laws
mentioned horses; Legal Adviser
George McHugh said all his
experiences with· horses had
been bad-they always came in
last; Treasurer Bernier said the
auditors would not pass the account;
the Secretary had been
in the Artillery in the last war
and was afraid he'd have to do
the grooming.
However, the dynamic captain
of the said Night Riders was not
to be put off.
''Wilf," he suggested, "you
buy the horse and we'll hire it
from you."
Wilf was quite agreeable. He
saw no reason why he should
stand around and watch Johnny
Dunlop rob the club when he
could do it himself.
The trading spirit of his
French-Canadian forebears being
aroused, Gosselin hunted the
countryside high and low, finally
landing back at Camp Fortune
with a fine, dapple-grey horse
by the name of Prince. Apparently
Prince had heard of
the inefficiency or laziness of his
predecessor, and wishing to
vindicate the good name of the
equus caballus, he entered into
the work of hauling things with
gusto. Just to keep him busy
Wilf got hold of a scoop, and
levelled off the ground around
the lodge. (By the way, since
then Wilf sowed grass seed on
that area and probably next
year will be planting beds of
geraniums.)
Bill Irving was delighted with
Prince and was not backward in
telling him so. Prince, however,
said that was all eye-wash and
that if he really appreciated his
services he would build him a
sta.ble. Bill saw Prince's point
and immediately got Wilf and
his assistant, Gerard Seguin, to