The Quintland Sisters(67)



George stared at me, then stood and was across the room in seconds, laying a hand lightly on my shoulder. I wheeled around, and he lifted his hand away and spread his fingers, a gesture of apology.

“That’s not true, Emma. You must realize that. Canada will get involved. You’re so mired in the lives of the girls, but you can’t bury your head in the sand while the rest of the world goes to pot, you see that, don’t you?”

I got angry then. I don’t like it when George is patronizing like this, when he discounts the work we’re doing. He reminds me of my father. “You of all people should know we have our own important battles raging right here!” I said.

I intended to flounce out of the room, but his big brown eyes held me there a moment or two, wearing an expression of disbelief, or worse—disappointment.

“What you have ‘here’ are five perfectly healthy little girls, who through no fault of their own are worth an awful lot of dough. If this is a battle, Emma, what is the point of the war? And who, tell me, are the good guys and who are the bad?” He scraped at his lower lip with his front teeth, his chin jutting, waiting for me to answer. When I said nothing, he snatched his hat from the window seat and was out of the room before I could imagine what it was he’d been expecting me to say.





April 14, 1938 (Toronto Star)



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EDUCATION OF QUINTS AROUSES CONTROVERSY OVER ENGLISH TONGUE, CHANGES IN STAFF

Guardians Hope to Give Same Schooling to Entire Family

CALLANDER, Ontario—While the famous Dionne babes were serenely making mud pies and singing childish songs in their nursery playground, controversy over their educational future reached an acute pitch. The Star has learned that the education of the Dionne quintuplets, up to now entirely in the hands of the active guardians, will in all likelihood be taken over by the Ontario department of education, under the bilingual section.

This development is the outcome of a controversy over their teaching following changes in the Dafoe hospital staff six weeks ago. Retirement by the active guardians of Nurse Jacqueline No?l and Teacher Claire Tremblay, both French-Canadians, raised a storm of protest from French-Canadian organizations, representatives of the Roman Catholic Church, and from Oliva Dionne, father of the children. These two attendants were replaced by Norah Rousselle, as teacher-in-charge, and Sigrid Ulrichson. Miss Ulrichson, it is said, speaks little or no French, while Miss Rousselle, of French parentage, is more at home in the English language. Mr. Dionne has stated that French should be the language of the Dafoe hospital and nursery for at least the next two years.

Judge Valin, chairman of the board of guardians for the Quintuplets, is himself a French-Canadian and is equally at home in either tongue. “If the girls are to live on the North American continent,” asserts Judge Valin, “they must be thoroughly familiar with the English language. The girls would be miserable if they grew up without a knowledge of English, no matter how well they spoke French, and they would reproach us when they reached maturity if we neglected our duty in that respect. And they would be justified in doing so.”

At 81, Judge Valin impresses one as being alert and active, physically and mentally, despite the fact that he limps slightly and walks with a cane. Indeed, the judge’s cane is one of the quintuplets’ most prized playthings when he visits them. The Quints dig in the sand with it, ride it around as a witch is supposed to do, and don’t relinquish it to the judge until he leaves.

Used with permission.





April 15, 1938

Dr. Blatz has been fired! I feel giddy with relief for the sake of my girls, but also nervous about what this means for the nursery. Nurse Ulrichson was very upset by the news, her pretty face looking pinched and tired. Mark my words, she’ll be the next to go.

The official word is that the education of the quintuplets will be managed by the provincial education authorities, but according to George, Dr. Blah-Blah’s dismissal is the Dionnes’ doing. Indeed, M. Dionne was over here this afternoon, strutting about on his skinny legs with his chest puffed out, all but crowing in Dr. Dafoe’s office. He stayed an hour, the door closed, then stalked back out to his car to drive the hundred yards to his farm, not once poking his head into the playroom to bid bonjour to the babies. They had heard the car pull up, of course, and scurried to the windows to watch him march inside. What must they think when the man they’re told to call “Papa” is so busy fighting over their future that he forgets to actually pay them a visit?

I’m in a muddle. I’ve come to despise the way Dr. Blatz treated the nursery as his own private laboratory, but for M. Dionne to be holding the balance of power? This scares me no end.





April 16, 1938

Miss Emma Trimpany Dafoe Hospital and Nursery Callander, ON

My dear Emma, Before you say anything, I know, I’m a terrible correspondent. I have spent every spare minute working on my book, and somehow this leaves me with zero energy for any other type of writing. Why on earth can you not get a proper phone in the nurses’ dormitory? It’s ludicrous that the only phone line is in Dr. Dafoe’s office. Judging by the number of products I see plastered with the faces of the quintuplets, I’d say the Dafoe nursery could easily afford to install a private line for the nursing and teaching staff. Ridiculous.

Of course I have followed all of the news over Dr. Blatz, the toothy old toad! I will see Fred next week and he can give me the full scoop, although I bet you with your quiet step and sharp eyes could tell me a better story, if you just took the time to call. Can you not ask Dr. Dafoe for special permission to take a call from me? I’ve got heaps to tell you about. Let’s say April 21 at 5:00 P.M.

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