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not unlike Italian vineyards, but the fruit is very
different. Instead of the twining stems, the
elegant vine leaves, and sweet bunches clinging by
delicate tendrils to their supports, we here find the
rich and odorous harvest of the Arctic seas, split
codfish, hanging in pairs by the strings which
hold their tails together. These are the ‘stokfisk,’
or stockfish, of which so many millions are
annually exported to Italy, Spain, and other Catholic
countries, for consumption on fast days.
“Near to these are other curious objects; the
sense of sight is not needed in seeking them. If
you obey the popular injunction and ‘follow your
nose’ in the direction of steadily increasing odour,
your nose will unerringly lead you to some huge
vats, where the livers of codfish are straining and
stinking, and rendering the cold-drawn oil; or to
caldrons, where the residual oil is being extracted
by a process which can scarcely he called frying,
but exceeds the energy of stewing. Although it
may not bear the name of either, it emits the odour
of both.
“The oil season is now nearly over, and very
little oil is being extracted; but this little is quite
enough for untrained olfactories. Two qualities
of oil are made, viz. ‘medicine oil,’ carefully
extracted from the best and freshest of the livers,
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