Church Magazine September 2020mk2

(bargainer), as housewives who are acquainted with his system of “Dutch
auction” on their doorsteps can testify. Cardiff, Newcastle, Leith, Plymouth,
and Douglas (Isle of Man) are favourite ports of the Roscoff men, and the
writer has known them to dispose of sixty tons of onions in one month in the
Manxland capital! In this instance the “equipe” was a small one of only half a
dozen lads.
By the time their vessel arrives they are already on the spot, having come over
by mail steamer from St. Malo or Le Havre to Southampton, and thence by
railway. All are up long before sunrise unloading the little ship and carrying
sacks of the onions, which are carried in the vessel’s hold in bulk, like coals or
lime, across the quays to the storage sheds. These Breton boys know nothing
of an eight-hour day nor believe in it, as each one of them has an interest in
the whole industry which is personal. However young he may be his share is
already calculated and secured at the great annual meeting of the “famille”
when accounts are settled for the past season and wages, share-moneys, and
bonuses are paid to him as a member of the “famille.” They are astir at 1 a.m.
in the storage shed stringing the onions which will later appear on the
shoulders of Marcel or Jules. Coffee and bread at 6 a.m. breaks their fast, and
at 7 a.m. begins the days’ work—continued until five in the afternoon—of
unloading the onion-boat. A halt is called about eleven o’clock for “déjeuner”
(lunch), which consists of a little soup and meat at the adjacent lodgings. A
simple cup of coffee serves until work is over, when a genuine hearty French
dinner is ready for all—soup, beef, a fowl, vegetables, bread and cheese, and
the everlastingly popular coffee. The tired and satisfied “equipe” are glad to sit
around and rest for an hour smoking a “caporal” or hand-rolled zouave
cigarette after their seventeen-hour day! By curfew hour—8 p.m.—all are abed
and fast asleep, for, until the onions are unloaded and strung on the strawropes,
1 a.m. is their hour for starting the day’s toil. By the time the empty
ketch hoists the Tricolour of France to the mizzen-peak and heads out of the
harbour southwards for Roscoff, the gang have strung enough onions for a
month’s sale and are busy in town and country around.
Good-natured, hardy, frugal, and industrious, Onion Johnny has his Sabbath
Day rest, and Mass sees him regularly at the nearest Catholic church every
seventh day. That afternoon is his very own, and, dressed in his best clothes,
he may be seen abroad taking a sober pleasure in inspecting the local shipping
or architectural “lions.” During the war he was on service to a man—either in
the famous “Fusiliers Marins” (of whom 70 per cent. are Bretons) or in the
Navy as loup-de-mer (Jack Tar).
His daily takings are handed over to the gang foreman to be banked, and each
spring in his native Bretagne at the great meeting of the co-operative “famille”