y. Small-boned swine of the Chinese breed, which
are kept in the temple sties of the Josses, and which are capable of an
obeseness in which all form and feature are swallowed up and lost in
fat, seem to be plenty in Quincy Market. They are hooked upright upon
their haunches, in a sitting posture, against the posts of the stall.
How many pots of Sabbath morning beans one of these porkers will
lubricate!

Beef tongues are abundant here, and eloquent of good living. The mighty
hind and fore quarters and ribs of the ox,

"With their red and yellow,
Lean and tallow,"

appeal to the good-liver on all sides. They seem to be the staple flesh
of the stalls.

But let us move on to the stalls frequented by the ichthyophagi. Homer
calls the sea the barren, the harvestless! Our Cape Ann fishermen do not
find it so.

"The sounds and seas, with all their finny droves,
That to the Moon in wavering morrice move,"

are as foodful as the most fertile parts of _terra firma_. Here lie the
blue, delicate mackerel in heaps, and piles of white perch from the
South Shore, cod, haddock, eels, lobsters, huge segments of swordfish,
and the flesh of various other voiceless tenants of the deep, both
finned and shell-clad. The codfish, the symbol of Puritan aristocracy,
as the grasshopper was of the ancient Athenians, seems to predominate.
Our _frutti di mare_, in the shape of oysters, clams, and other
mollusks, are the delight of all true gastronomers. What vegetable, or
land animal, is so nutritious? Here are some silvery shad from the
Penobscot, or Kennebec, or Merrimac, or Connecticut. The dams of our
great manufacturing corporations are sadly interfering with the annual
movements of these luscious and beautiful fish. Lake Winnipiseogee no
longer receives these ocean visitors into its clear, mountain-mirroring
waters. The greedy pike is also here, from inland pond and lake, and the
beautiful trout from the quick mountain brook, "with his waved coat
dropped with gold." Who eats the trout partakes of pure diet. He loves
the silver-sanded stream, and silent pools, and eddies of limpid water.
In fact, all fish, from sea or shore, freshet or purling brook, of shell
or fin, are here, on clean marble slabs, fresh and hard. Ours is the
latitude of the fish-eater. The British marine provinces, north of us,
and Norway in the Old World, are his paradise.

Man is a universal eater.

"He cannot spare water or wine,
Tobacco-