dead meat, fish, and poultry; one in the east—-
and, thanks to the munificent enterprise of Miss
Burdett Coutts, this want is being supplied by
the finest market, architecturally, in London—-
to supply the population crowded in and around
Bethnal-green, the docks, and along the river,
which might be the foreign market; and one on
the south side. Doubtless the howl of vested
interests in scarlet and blue gowns, and blue
and greasy aprons, will long prevail against
a reform so much needed.

We have thought it not inappropriate to
devote the above space to the meat question,
with reference to the sixty-ninth annual show
of cattle, sheep, and pigs by the Smithfield
Club. In the spacious avenues of the
Agricultural Hall the curious or serious student
of useful knowledge may with comparative
comfort make himself acquainted with the best
specimens of the various breeds of beef and
mutton making farm-stock, specimens which are
the result of more than a century of careful selection
and industrious experiment in the art of feeding.
But although the progress in increasing
the number of good animals in each breed is
enormous, it must not be concluded that there is any
improvement in the quality of the best meat.
There is more good meat; but the best of to-day
is not better than the best seventy years ago.

The Smithfield Club, strictly conservative,
like all agricultural institutions, makes the
Devon cattle No. 1 in its catalogue, because,
seventy years ago, the then Duke of Bedford
(namely, the famous agriculturist, fox-hunter,
and friend of Charles Fox) founded the society
by showing three extraordinary Devons, and
gave two hundred and fifty pounds in cash,
besides the chance of silver cups and gold medals, to
encourage the breed. Admirable are the modern
specimens exhibited, for quality, although often
absurdly small. Cattle judges are somewhat
Della Cruscan in their tastes and decisions,
and are apt to please the eye at the
expense of the consumer. But the prizes do not
spread the breed of Devons much beyond the
borders of the native county and Somersetshire.
In Norfolk, where they first obtained an ex-
county reputation, they do not thrive without
continued crosses from the moist pastures of
the district to which they owe their name. The
Devon makes English roast beef second to
none; and it may safely be asserted that all
our cake, and corn, and roots, do not produce
better beef than that of the grass, and corn, and
hay fed oxen sent from Woburn in 1786.

The Hereford, with its red hide and white
face, follows the Devon—- a fine ox, and, like the
Devon, good at the plough, but not a favourite
with the butcher, because he always looks,
outside at least, as good as he is inside, when dead
—- often better. He is rarely to be found out of
the two or three counties close to his native
place; he is a beast that demands good
pastures, and has found a home and favour in
Australia and the grassy regions of the United
States. The prizes for him are the same as for
the Devon. Thirdly comes the Short-horn,
without possibility of question, unless by some
benighted one from Devon or Hereford, the
undisputed chief and king of the cattle tribe.
He alone flourishes in every temperate and
even in semi-tropical regions of the globe.
He is to be found in perfection from Cornwall
to John o'Groat's, and has carried improvement
to the remote Orcadian and Shetland islands.
He is the true originator of meat for the
million, good to make beef wherever fat is
appreciated—- good in the dairy even in pure strains
when well selected—- of not much use in
harness, but sure to produce a good beef-
making and a good dairy animal in any cross.
Even Scotland, with its admirable breed of
black cattle, has been compelled to give up its
traditionary prejudices. It has adopted pure
Short-horns in the Lowlands, and has crossed
the black-polled in the Highlands with the
Southron beast.

The short-horn was scarcely known out of
the North of England when the Smithfield
Club was started. It was long neglected, and
has never been more favoured in the prizes
offered than the aboriginal Devons and
Herefords. But for many years it has only been by
exception that the principal prizes, especially
for cows, have not gone to short-horns or
short-horn crosses. Here, again, nature beats
art; for while the short-horn gives meat
for the million, the ancient upland breeds—-
the Devon, the Scot, the Welshman—- preserve
their claims to the preference of the gourmet.
The once-famous Irish black and brindled
cattle have been so far superseded by the short-
horn, that at the Agricultural Hall they are
only to be found in twos or threes, competing
for as many prizes.

Highland Scots, those shaggy, long-horned,
picturesque beasts, which form the greatest ornament
of a gentleman's park, beside or after deer,
and Scotch polled, provide the very choicest beef
in the London market, standing even before the
Devons; yet they make in numbers very poor
show in the Smithfield Club, while in the
metropolitan market they hold the place of honour,
and fetch the top price. Store Scots are
becoming scarce; the Scotch farmers feed at
home, and prefer the profits of the market
to the honours of the show. It must, however,
be remarked, in passing, that it is now
so common a practice to cross the black-polled
with the short-horn, that every gigantic-polled
beast is, justly or unjustly, suspected of a short-
horn strain. After the pure-bred come the
cross-bred classes, which generally exceed the
pure in weight.

Sheep follow cattle in the catalogue, and
surround them in the show. To follow them, in
detail would take more space than we can spare.
Here, again, quality has to give way to quantity.
The four-year-old sheep of our fathers is as
rare as the roc's egg of the Arabian Nights.
All the prizes are given for sheep under two
years old, except in the wild mountain breeds.
Leicesters, Cotswolds, Lincolns, and Romney