agreement obtained; it was admitted on all sides that the
horse tasted sweet. One might suppose the adjective to be a
recommendation; but it was not so; quite the contrary (the nearer the
bone, etc. does not apply to a saddle of horseflesh). And yet there were
people who liked their _porridge_ sweet! who, after wasting their
allowance of sugar in it, would go running about the streets to borrow a
little sugar for their tea. Had it been practicable to utilise a little
horse-essence for the tea, all would be well. But it would hardly do.
Nobody ventured even to hint at the adoption of such a course to a
neighbour; with borrowing rampant it was undesirable to be on other than
amicable terms with the lady next door.

Time passed, and our antipathy to horseflesh abated not a jot. It did
not improve on acquaintance, we were told by those who tried it, while
the self-respecting persons who would not so demean themselves were no
less bitter in their diatribes. It was useless to argue that the horse
was a "clean" animal. He was deemed too useful, too tough, too sinewy,
too hard-working to be digestible. We could not connect a horse-chop
with what was fit for human consumption. Most of us indulgently spared
the butcher the trouble of weighing it; we preferred--with an air of
dignity--to take the two ounces that civilisation sanctioned, and to
forego the rest. And there were numbers who did not consider it worth
while enduring a certain jostling for the _right_ half of their ration;
it was not worth it--and they might get the _wrong_ half! The meat man
did not like the boycott at all; he wanted to get rid of his surplus
sirloins, and the asceticism of those who preferred to thrive on black
tea enabled him to invite the unparticular people to pick and choose the
rib--the equine rib--they liked best. The authorities, to do them
justice, had acted straightforwardly in differentiating between the two
animals; no deception in the way of palming off the one for the other
was permitted. But in the confusion things got mixed; and the poor
butcher, who was only human, succumbed in spite of himself to strong
temptation. Whether he was governed by the motive of doing a little
wrong for sake of a great right is beside the question. The great right
was done. In veterinary circles the meat dispenser was relished as a
rather daring "perverter," while hundreds of smart people began to enjoy
their _pseudo_-beef. And when afterwards informed of the