Le Petit Nord, or, Annals of a Labrador harbour . short acquaintance it was an accurate re-sume of the character of the applicant. De mor-tuis nil nisi honum is all very well, but it de-pends on the mortuis; and that mans wife andchildren had been short of food he had smokedaway. I have the greatest admiration for the womenof this coast. They work like dogs from morningtill nightfall, summer and winter, with neer aspell, as one of them told me quite men are out on the sea in boats, which atleast is a hfe of variety, and in winter they cango into the woods for firewood. The women
Le Petit Nord, or, Annals of a Labrador harbour . short acquaintance it was an accurate re-sume of the character of the applicant. De mor-tuis nil nisi honum is all very well, but it de-pends on the mortuis; and that mans wife andchildren had been short of food he had smokedaway. I have the greatest admiration for the womenof this coast. They work like dogs from morningtill nightfall, summer and winter, with neer aspell, as one of them told me quite men are out on the sea in boats, which atleast is a hfe of variety, and in winter they cango into the woods for firewood. The women hangforever over the stove or the washtub, go intothe stages to split the fish, or into the gardens togrow taties. Yet oddly enough, there is lessilliteracy among the women than among themen. [ 41 ] LE PETIT NORD Such a nice girl is here from Adlavik as maidin the hospital. Rhoda Macpherson is her told me the other day that one winter thedoctor of the station near her asked the men toclear a trail down a very steep hill leading to the. V^-^ village, as the dense trees made the descent dan-gerous for the dogs. Weeks went by and the mendid nothing. Finally three girls, with Rhoda asleader, took their axes every Sunday afternoonand went out and worked clearing that road. Ina month it was done. The doctor now calls itRhodas Randy. [ 42 ] ANNALS OF A LABRADOR HARBOUR Yesterday afternoon I was out with my cam-era. (Saturday you will note. I have learned al-ready that to be seen on Sundays in this Sabba-tarian spot, even walking about with that incon-spicuous black box, is anathema.) A crowd ofchildren in a disjointed procession had collectedin front of the hospital, and the patients on thebalconies were delightedly craning their biting blast was blowing, but the children,clad in white garments, looked oblivious to windand weather. It was a Sunday-School picnic. Adear old fisherman was with them, evidently theleader. Whats it all about? I asked. Weve come to serenade
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