care and taste of the "guv'nor, "and of the
requirements of his trade." We must have good
horses for our work, "says Mr. Frankman,
"and the guv'nor is so partickler in everything.
A man to clean the harness, a man to see to the
feed, and to the stables, makes everything as it
ought to be; and he WILL have it as it ought to
be, in the yard and in the slaughterhouse, as
well as in the stables."

So it appears to us also; and although we
have our private opinion — and it is a very strong
one — as to the wrongful state of the law which
permits the carrying on of such trades, however
necessary in themselves, in baneful proximity
to an overcrowded city, we admit that the
"guv'nor" conducts a most offensive business
in the least offensive way possible. And so, good
day to Jack the horse-killer, and his castle.

Within a radius of five miles from Charing-cross
there die, on an average, three hundred
horses a week. Some are killed outright, but
the majority are slaughtered. A dead horse,
or one sold to the knackers, will fetch from
twenty to sixty shillings, according to his size
and condition. Average value, forty shillings.
The weight of a single animal varies from six
hundred and eighty to one thousand one
hundred and forty pounds. Average weight,
nine hundred and fifty pounds. As for the
produce, only general results can be arrived
at; there are secrets in all trades, and the
horse trade is no exception. Taking the
average as before, each horse will yield
a pound and a half of hair, in value from
eightpence to a shilling a pound. This is
employed in the manufacture of hair-cloth bags,
mattresses, and plumes—those lustrous plumes
which crown the hearse. The hide, weighing
about thirty pounds, will fetch some eight
shillings for crushing seed in oil-mills, and is
used besides as the covering of hair trunks. The
tendons may weigh six pounds, and yield glue
and gelatine. Of meat boiled, a horse will yield,
on an average, two hundred and twenty-four
pounds, which at three halfpence a pound, gives
twenty-eight shillings. Three hundred horses,
giving two hundred and twenty-four pounds of
boiled meat each, yield a total of thirty tons
of cat's-meat a week! It is, of course, generally
understood that this vast produce is especially
provided for cats and dogs only, but there is a
strong suspicion abroad that it is sold to some
extent for human food. Next comes the blood,
which will weigh about sixty pounds, and is
converted into prussiate of potash, and most
valuable manure. Of the heart and tongue,
the less said, the better. We might not enjoy our
neat's tongue the more, if we suspected it to
be a horse's; and the suspicion that our coffee,
besides its proportion of chicory, was seasoned
with a horse's baked heart and liver, properly
ground, might abate our thorough enjoyment
of the soothing cup. The intestines will weigh
about eighty pounds, and are employed as
skins for sausages, "small Germans," and
the like. Twenty pounds of fat will be worth
about three shillings and sixpence, and, when
distilled, become excellent lamp oil. Of bones
there will be about one hundred and sixty
pounds' weight, at four shillings and sixpence
a hundred-weight, and they are made available
for a great variety of purposes. They yield
phosphorus and superphosphate of lime, when
they are not manufactured into snuff-boxes,
knife-handles, and a hundred other knick-knacks
of more or less utility. The hoofs will weigh
six pounds, and, when not devoted to the
production of gelatine and prussiates, make
very handsome buttons. The shoes are always
worth the price of old iron, and are more valuable
to some people for good luck.

It will be seen that the best use possible
is made of the horse after death; might not
something be said in favour of his better
treatment when living, by a horse-loving nation
such as we are? Let us hope that, under
the instruction of our modern horse-professors,
a new law of kindness will be brought into
force.

My driver of the City 'bus had a word to say
to the public on that subject: "The public
ought to be told and it's surprisin' to me they're
not told already that they do not no they do
NOT use the 'bus horses fair. They're
continually stoppin' of 'em when in full run. They
won't walk two yards, the public won't, to
save stoppin' the 'bus. One minit it's 'Whoa!'
and there's the public half a dozen yards ahead
on the near side, a makin' us stop a
purpose for 'em. I don't say it's done out
of spite — the public is werry considerate — but
they ought to be told that this sort of thing
knocks up the omnibus horses worse than all.
If the public had a 'bus behind 'em of over a ton
weight, and twenty passengers added on,
they'd werry often think twice afore they'd call out '
Whoa!' when they could help it."

The Fifteenth Journey of
THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER,
A SERIES OF OCCASIONAL JOURNEYS,
BY CHARLES DICKENS,
Will appear Next Week.

Now ready, at all the Libraries, in Three Volumes
post 8vo,
THE WOMAN IN WHITE.
By WILKIE COLLINS.
SAMPSON Low, SON, and Co., 47, Ludgate-hilL