166 LABRADOR 
are wise enough to know that life does not consist in the 
abundance of things man possesses. The joy of life on 
our coast comes of a peace of mind due to a real faith in 
God’s fatherhood and our sonship, and from every high 
ideal realized on that premise. Without any theories it 
is the simplest “simple life.” There is no room in Labrador 
for persons affected with the ‘dementia of owning things.” 
If ever by elimination of their faith or by the introduction 
of the “habits of civilization’? our people are deprived of 
that faith, life on the coast would be little short of a purga- 
tory to be endured. So strongly do our people feel on this 
matter of keeping Sunday strictly for rest that one of our 
laws runs that “no person shall, between the hours of 
twelve o’clock on Saturday night, and twelve o’clock on 
Sunday night, take or catch in any manner whatsoever, 
any herring, caplin, squid, or any other bait fish, or set or 
put out any contrivance whatsoever for taking them,” — 
just such a law as prevailed one hundred years ago about 
salmon-catching in Ireland. Oddly enough, the law does 
not prevent catching the cod themselves, so we cannot 
prevent the long lines being hauled by our cousins from 
‘civilization.’ When remonstrated with, however, they 
have almost always shown enough good feeling to give way 
to the wishes and customs of our people. 
The first of the fleet that leaves for Labrador sets out as 
early as the end of April. Those from the outports have 
still, owing to the unfortunate centralization of trade at 
St. John’s, to repair first almost to the very extreme south 
of Newfoundland for supplies, and thence to leave for the 
north again. The southern vessels that come out of the 
winter ice early frequently find time to do some coasting 
