in 1849. Now, I'll just read you," pulling
out a rather dirty pamphlet, which turned out
to be the Acts stitched together, "some bits
which will show you how we're governed.
'Whereas,' the first Act says, 'the practice of
stealing horses, cows, and other cattle hath of
late years increased to an alarming degree, and
hath been greatly facilitated by certain persons of
low condition, who keep houses or places for
the purpose of slaughtering horses and other
cattle: for remedy whereof be it enacted by the
king's most excellent majesty ... no person
or persons shall keep or use any house or
place for the purpose of slaughtering any horse,
mare, gelding, colt, filly, ass, or mule, which shall
not be killed for butcher's meat (we started at
these words, for it seems as if George the Third's
parliament had been endowed with prophesy),
without first taking out a license for that
purpose.' Then come regulations as to how we're to
obtain our license, the times of slaughtering, the
notice we have to give to the inspector (you'll see
him presently), the accounts to be kept by the
owners of slaughtering-houses, and the form of
conviction for violating the Act. The inspector
must have notice, mind you, whenever a horse
or other animal is to be killed, is to ' take a full
account and description' of each, is to look
through our books, and has sixpence for every
animal we kill. Our inspector's house is in our
slaughter-yard, so that we make him responsible
for the horses destroyed.

"If the inspector says this Act 'has reason to
believe' that any of the horses are in 'a sound and
serviceable state,' or if he thinks they have been
stolen or unlawfully come by, he is to prohibit
the slaughtering for eight days, and to cause
'an advertisement or advertisements to be
inserted in the Daily Advertiser or some other
public newspaper.' Persons slaughtering horses
without a license are, the Act says, to be guilty
of felony; and any one destroying the hides of
the horses they slay 'by throwing them into
lime-pits, or otherwise immersing in or rubbing
the same with lime or other corrosive matter,'
are guilty of a misdemeanour. That, you'll
understand, was aimed at the horse-stealers.
Lending a house, barn, or stable not duly licensed
for slaughtering purposes is to be punished by
a fine of not less than ten nor more than twenty
pounds. Then comes a clause exempting the
curriers who 'shall kill any distempered or
aged horse;' and a passage enforcing some
other fines winds up the bill, which remained
unaltered for nearly sixty years. The next Act
affecting this trade in 1849, 'to amend the law
for regulating places for slaughtering-houses,'
and it inflicts penalties upon any one cruelly
beating or ill-treating a horse about to be
killed; and makes the slaughter-house keeper's
licence annual. The justices in quarter-sessions
can cancel any man's licence on convicting him
of violating the Act; and the duty of the
inspector, and penalties for neglect on his part,
and for obstruction on the part of others, are
stringently put forward. These two Acts govern
horse-slaughtering now; but I keep the bill
passed for the prevention of cruelty to animals
here with them, because it relates to us too.
It provides that all horses impounded for slaying
shall be properly supplied with food; and
if kept for twelve hours without a sufficient
quantity of 'fit and wholesome food and water,'
the keeper of the slaughter house is fined five
pounds. It also provides 'that the hair from
the neck of such horse' shall be cut off before
slaughtering. No man can be a horse-slaughterer
and a horse-dealer at the same time, and
all headboroughs, parish beadles, peace-officers,
special constables, and members of the
Metropolitan or City of London police, as well as
county constabulary, have the right of inspecting
our places, if in their districts, almost when
they like.

"There, Mr. All The Year Round, I think
you've got pretty well hold of the laws we're
bound to obey. We conduct our business
strictly by them, and horses are sent here under
all sorts of circumstances. Being worn out or
diseased is the commonest reason, of course;
but sometimes it's whim or fancy that sends
'em to us. A gentleman will die, perhaps, and
leave instructions in his will that his favourite
pony isn't to be let grow old to run the risk of
being badly treated; or a fine frisky animal has
run away with a little girl or boy, and been the
means of breaking an arm or a leg; or some
incurably vicious beast has been the death of a
relative or friend; all these are reasons for
having sound horses killed. We've nothing to do with
anything of that sort here. A horse once in at
that gate—excepting those we use in our own
business—and he never goes out again except
as cats' meat. We just poleaxe 'em, that's all.
Our foreman, Potler, is the cleverest man in
Europe at that work, and we pay him the
salary of three curates for knocking horses on
the head. Not that he does it much himself,
he goes out with the cart and sells, but he can
do it, you know, better than any one living,
and he's thoroughly sober and trustworthy, and
looks well after the men. He was here long
before we were, and knows the whole business,
root and branch. He's a good deal respected
by gentlemen, and the people we deal with,
too, and is a great swell. Why, bless your
soul, sir, I've seen that man knock horses
down with a hundred pounds worth of
diamonds on his fingers and about his neck; and
he's quite a character on the turf, makes
up his little book on every big race, and
manages to win money. I was only saying to
him the other day, after he'd killed and
'stripped' his horse like a regular artist, as he
is—for there's as much difference, mind you,
between one man's touch and another's at
horse-killing as at anything else—I was only
saying to him, 'Why there's many a gentleman
who's been to Oxford and Cambridge, and with
a first-rate Latin education, who doesn't do as
well as you do, Potler, and couldn't earn your
salary to save his life.' And he said very fairly
that he'd been doing this one thing ever since he
was a little child, and it was only natural he
could do it better than any one else. But I'll
tell you what he can do, and then you may