A few days ago I talked with a Dublin man who had just returned after twenty-eight years in Philadelphia. I learnt from him that one of the changes which he noticed was the absence of the old streetcalls that one heard morning and evening. The old fish-hawkers, he said - mostly women made the streets vocal with their familiar, half-intoned cries. One of these was "Haddock and whitin', alive, alive, O," and in the evenings "Good Carlingford oysters" could be heard until after midnight.
Before the advent of trawlers Dublin Bay haddock had a reputation second only to its herrings. In all the leading hotels and restaurants it was regarded as the choicest fish of spring and summer.
There is a widespread legend that the spots which the haddock always bears near its pectoral fins are the prints caused by St. Peter when he extracted Caesar's tribute money from a fish. Unfortunately the sceptic, to counter such a belief, retorts that the haddock is only to be found in salt water, and that the Lake of Gennesaret, whence came St. Peter's fish is fresh.
The Irish Times, May 22nd, 1931.
