A LABRADOR SPRING 
pleasant to my palate as beaver steaks, which 
were delicious and suggested goose. As we 
were eating I suddenly remembered it was 
Friday, and feared our good friends were com- 
mitting a grievous sin. Not so, however, for, 
as Mathias explained, beaver is poisson,as is also 
the moynak or eider and other sea ducks, but 
one may not eat of river ducks on Friday, for 
they are viands. There are more ways than 
one of whipping the devil around the stump. 
Of eggs, however, there was no question, and 
my companion was an ardent collector of egg 
shells. With a drill he carefully bored a hole 
in one side of the egg into which a small blow- 
pipe was inserted; now this blow-pipe was 
connected with a rubber bulb, which, on com- 
pression by the hand, forced out through the 
same hole the contents of the egg. These con- 
tents were not wasted, — far from it, — but 
were received into the frying-pan, and we had, 
with a clear conscience and as the result of 
scientific activity on our parts, omelets of 
eiders’, great-black-backed gulls’, puffins’ and 
even cormorants’ eggs. The last named we let 
Mathias prepare after a Labrador receipt: flour 
in generous proportion was mixed with the eggs, 
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