THE PEOPLE OF THE COAST 177 



the coast is one of the most refreshing experiences a visitor 

 can have. A man may have fustian instead of broad- 

 cloth, sea-boots instead of patent-leather boots, a blue 

 guernsey instead of the latest cut of frock-coat, but a man 

 is a man in Labrador for all that, independent and free 

 from all self-consciousness, which quite falsely humbles 

 one man in the presence of his fellow-men. Thus I have 

 had guests many times staying with us in our house, waited 

 on at our table, and then quite naturally adjourning to the 

 kitchen and feeling absolutely at home and unembarrassed 

 there with the servants, without any false contempt for 

 others, just as a Ruskin or a Tolstoi, or the Christ would 

 have it. 



Yet the Labradorman, on the other hand, has none of 

 that offensive familiarity which would ignore the differ- 

 ences that are the outcome of position and training. He 

 does not so much care who your father and grandfather 

 were, or the quality of your clothes. But he does not try 

 to force that fact on you in the manner said to be the pre- 

 rogative of " walking delegates." 



Those who have visited the Labrador fisherman have, 

 on social grounds, learnt to love him for his simple virtues, 

 his hospitality, his faith, his truthfulness, and his loyalty, 

 even as Ian Maclaren taught us to love the people of Drum- 

 tochty. Nor can you be long in the fisherman's company 

 without feeling this. 



The public health of Labrador has practically been a 

 matter of chance. Houses are not drained. Few have 

 even outside closets, much less one in the house. There 

 are no sanitary officers. Very few residents have ever been 

 vaccinated. Until recently they have had no teaching 



