I was not looking, and replace it with cold spring water. "I 'lows
I'se not accustomed to no sweetness" was his simple explanation. It
was raw and damp as we rowed into the estuary at sunrise in search of
the seals. I was chilly even in a well-lined leather coat. But the
two shock-headed boys, clad in ancient cotton shirts, and with what
had once been only cotton overall jackets, were as jolly as crickets,
and apparently almost unduly warm. The Labrador has taught me one
truth, which as a physician I never forget, that is, coddling is the
terrible menace of civilization, and "to endure hardness" is the best
preparation for a "good soldier." On leaving, I promised to send to
those boys, whose contentment and cheerfulness greatly endeared them
to me, a dozen good fox traps in order to give them a chance for the
coming winter. Such a gift as those old iron rat traps seemed in their
eyes! When at last they arrived, and were really their own
possessions, no prince could have been prouder than they. The next
summer as I steamed North, we called in at D---- B----'s house. The
same famine in the land seemed to prevail; the same lack of apparently
everything which I should have wanted. But the old infective smile was
still presented with an almost religious ceremonial, and my friend
produced from his box a real silver fox skin. "I kept it for you'se,
Doctor," he said, "though us hadn't ne'er a bit in t' house. I know'd
you'd do better 'n we with he."

I promised to try, and on my way called in at some northern islands
where my friend, Captain Bartlett, father of the celebrated "Captain
Bob" of North Pole fame, carried on a summer trade and fishery. He
himself was a great seal and cod fisherman, and a man known for his
generous sympathy for others.

"Do your best for me, Captain Will," I asked as I handed over the
skin--and on coming South I found a complete winter diet laid out for
me to take to D---- B----'s little house. It was a veritable full load
for the small carrying capacity of my little craft.

When we arrived at the house on the promontory, however, it was locked
up and the family gone. They were off fishing on the outer islands, so
all we could do was to break in the door, pile up the things inside,
bar it up again, affixing a notice warning off bears, dogs, and all
poachers, and advising Dick that it was the price of his pelt. In the
note we also told him to put all the fur he caught the following
winter in a bar