were infused into her veins. She pressed
the paper to her lips, and murmured:

"Du lieber Himmel! . . . 'For his sake,'
whate'er betide, I will not flinch from it."

THE PARIS FISH MARKETS.

AMONG the benefits that inland towns derive
from railways, not the least striking is the
regular supply of fresh sea-fish from the coasts;
and such cities as Vienna, Berlin, and Paris,
may thank the Iron Horse for many a dainty
dish. By means of diligences and mail-coaches
Paris could draw but a limited supply of
sea-fish even from the nearest ports on the
Normandy coast; and it was only when the
temperature was exceptionably favourable that
any could be sent up to the capital from the
Mediterranean and western shores. Yet,
notwithstanding the difficulties arising from the
state of the weather and the mode of transport,
the Paris markets had for many years been
regularly supplied with sea-fish from the northern
coast by means of a system of cartage,
comprising no less than three thousand two hundred
and ninety-two carts, and organised by the
fishing interest; and also to some extent from
the vicinity of Havre and the Calvados coast.
The diligences, at that time, also occasionally
brought up fish from the Mediterranean ports;
and during the year 1836, the total supply that
reached the capital by these different modes of
conveyance was three million three hundred and
sixty-one thousand kilogrammes, or about three
thousand three hundred and sixty tons. The
quantity which now reaches Paris every year
is about three times as large, yet prices
instead of falling, as one would naturally suppose,
have maintained themselves, owing probably
to the immense increase of inland territory to
be supplied by the fisheries, and to the latter
having unfortunately failed to develop
themselves in the same proportions as the
consumption.

The arrival at the Paris Halles Centrales of
the great caravan of railway trucks, bearing
the produce of the nets and dredges of the
whole littoral of France, is the signal for the
commencement of a busy and curious scene.
The bustle commences about six in the morning,
when that portion of those gigantic glass
and iron buildings which is devoted to the sale
of fish, is invaded by a crowd of industrious
blue blouses, with here and there a cocked
hat, before which dreaded emblem of authority
the skulking "voyous" and homeless wretches
quickly abandon their hiding places, and
disperse once more through the purlieus of the
city, or remain hanging about the gates on the
look out for a job. The waggons are quickly
unloaded, and as the different lots are handed
across the pavement expectation is rife, to see
what prospect there may be of a good day's
market; for, although the improved means of
transport are of immense benefit to all
concerned in this line of business, "first catch
your hare" is still the rule, and the market is
as dependent as ever upon the fishermen and
the sea. The baskets, each of which bears the
owner's name and the address of his salesman,
are, immediately on delivery, deposited on their
proper heaps by the porters, so that the salesman,
by the aid of the way bills, which are
handed in by the carman, can at once note the
magnitude of the consignment for which he
has become responsible. The sales are carried
on by public auction; and the different lots are
disposed of with the greatest celerity. To be
first in the field is of course a great consideration,
for only a limited quantity of goods can
be offered for sale at a time; and fish, unlike
most other articles, diminishes in value as the
hour of the day advances. To avoid prejudice
to the seller's interests, the dealers had long
agreed to put up for sale, lots composed of
parcels taken from every van in attendance.
In this way one would have thought that the
advantages or losses attendant upon late or
early sale would be effectually equalised. But
the commercial spirit is an ingenious thing.
To obtain the full benefit of this arrangement
some of the sellers, instead of allowing their
fish to be forwarded from the station in the
large railway trucks, brought it down to the
market in several small carts, so that each
vehicle might occupy a place in the rank, and
furnish its quota to every sale as if it belonged
to a separate owner. This little manoeuvre
was known as "le coupage," and to such an
extent did the abuse spread that a police
regulation was issued quite recently, decreeing
that priority of arrival should be established as
the title to priority of sale. In 1859, eleven
thousand four hundred and seventy tons of fish
were brought to the Halles in sixteen thousand
and forty-two carts; in 1863, fourteen thousand
four hundred and thirty tons occupied fifty-two
thousand two hundred and eighty carts; and
in 1866, thirteen thousand nine hundred and
forty-three tons were brought on no less than
seventy-eight thousand six hundred and four
vehicles—under four hundredweight to each.

As soon as the fish is unpacked it is placed
on large flat baskets, and is laid out in the
various divisions, in the outskirts of the
market, appropriated to the different salesmen.
This work is done by the "verseurs,"
and requires a considerable amount of skill, for
not only must the different species be grouped
together, but the lots must be as nearly as
possible of the same size, and the fish presented
to the eye in its most favourable aspect, without,
however, any attempt being made to
conceal any flaw. The "verseurs" pass the
fish to the criers, who are thirty-four in number,
and whose duty it is to announce the goods as
they are brought up for sale, to receive the
bids, and to report the names of the purchasers
to the auctioneer's clerk. Notwithstanding
the uproar, the shouts, and the highly-spiced
chaff which everywhere seems to be necessary
to the proper disposal of fish, everything
proceeds in the most perfect order, and the baskets
appear and disappear with the greatest rapidity.
Whenever any extraordinary specimen comes
to hand, such as a gigantic salmon, or a