to aid fermentation, no foreign ingredient is employed, and the whole
process of making and bottling the wine is conducted with the utmost
care. Nicholas Longworth was neither an enlightened nor a
public-spirited man; but, like most of his race, he was scrupulously
honest. Indeed, we may truly say, that there is in Cincinnati a general
spirit of fidelity. Work is generally done well there, promises are
kept, and representations accord with the facts.

Every one thinks of pork in connection with Cincinnati. We had the
curiosity to visit one of the celebrated pork-making establishments,
"The Banner Slaughter and Pork-packing House," which, being the newest,
contains all the improved apparatus. In this establishment, hogs
weighing five or six hundred pounds are killed, scraped, dressed, cut
up, salted, and packed in a barrel, in _twenty seconds_, on an average;
and at this rate, the work is done, ten hours a day, during the season
of four months. The great secret of such rapidity is, that one man does
one thing only, and thus learns to do that one thing with perfect
dexterity. We saw a man there who, all day and every day, knocks pigs
down with a hammer; another who does nothing but "stick" them; another
who, with one clean, easy stroke of a broad, long-handled cleaver,
decapitates the hugest hog of Ohio. But let us begin at the beginning,
for, really, this Banner Pork-house is one of the most curious things in
the world, and claims the attention of the polite reader.

It is a large, clean, new brick building, with extensive yards adjoining
it, filled with hogs from the forests and farms of Ohio, Indiana, and
Kentucky. From these yards to the third story of the house there is an
inclined plane, up which a procession of the animals march slowly to
their doom from morning until evening. Here is the first economy. The
thing to be done is, to transfer the pigs from those yards to the
basement of the building, and, on the way, convert them into salt pork.
They walk to the scene of massacre at the top of the building, and the
descent to the cellar accomplishes itself by the natural law which
causes everything to seek the centre of the earth. Arrived at the
summit, the fifteen foremost find themselves in "a tight
place,"--squeezed into a pen, in which they must remain standing from
lack of room to lie down. There are two of these pens, and two "pen
men"; so that the moment one pen is empty, there is another ready
filled, and th