318 LABRADOR 
The rapid loading, and the accepting of all the fish 
“Tal qual,” z.e. Just as it comes along, greatly encourages 
bad fish-making, and as the loading often goes on by flares 
after night, sometimes unsound fish will be slipped in, and 
a whole cargo injured or even spoiled. Moreover, the fish 
does not receive so severe a culling on the Labrador as it 
does in Newfoundland, and, indeed, is generally taken with- 
out culling. The merchants run very considerable risk in 
exporting fish. The hiring of their vessels, small as most of 
them are, is an expensive business, and the small margin 
left for profits when there has been a keen competition in 
prices to “‘finish a vessel,’ has left many an enterprising 
man sorry he ever “touched it.” The vessels used are 
mostly square-rigged schooners, and old-fashioned small 
brigs and brigantines. Indeed, the industry is serving the 
useful purpose of helping to perpetuate this very interesting 
class of vessels, which everywhere else is becoming extinct. 
These vessels represent a distinct bond with the mother 
country, for they are mostly Welsh, with some from Devon- 
shire. They are handled by the type of sailor of long ago, 
men whom one would expect to step off Amyas Lee’s vessel 
on its return from the Indies. These men are possessed of 
the material which made their prototypes so desirable an 
asset to their country. They are sailors to the soles of their 
boots, and amongst them are many of the most simple, 
God-fearing, contented men I have ever seen. The masters 
are generally part owners, and often mess with their crews 
as with a party of friends. Many a helpful hand do they 
lend our fishermen, for the vessels are bound to be out here 
by a certain date. Being slow and uncertain, the vessels 
often arrive two months early, and even have to wait three 
