FROZEN MEAT IN ENGLAND.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 3125, 9 April 1883, Page 2

FROZEN MEAT IN ENGLAND.

The following skit from “ Fun ” of February 21 indicates that the butcher is still master of the situation at Home, in regard to the frozen meat trade :—lt was the midnight which followed Wednesday, Februaay 8. A laden vessel arrived in the docks' Cautiously and glancing hurriedly on every side as if in deadly apprehension, the reporter crept to the vessels side and scribbled hastily in his note-book : —“ The steam ship Sorrento, from New Zealand with a car Then the reporter fled hastily towards the swift steed that waited for him round the corner, for he was pursued by a muffled figure with a blue apron, wielding a long knife. . . The unhappy reporter has not been heard of since.

But somehow the tidings of truth sped on, for, seated in his most secluded chamber, and protected by his most heavily-barred door, the editor nervously penned the glad report for press. Yes, the editor himself, for none other on the paper dared to face the dangerous task. The writing ran thus “ The steamship Sorrento, from Now Zealand, with a cargo of fro —Then lie looked up nervously, for a swift chopper was hewing its way through the wall, and in another instant he was confronted by a figure with a dark blue serge apron, light blue cotton sleeves, and a gleaming knife. . . . All subsequent inquiries

for the unfortunate editor have proved vain.

Yet the truth crept on. Under the cover of darkness, in the highest and most inaccessible composing-room, a daring compositor was apprehensively setting up type. He had already set up the words “ The steamship Sorrento, from New Zealand, with a cargo of frozen ” when the figure with the dark blue serge apron, light blue cotton sleeves, sharpening steel, and gleaming knife, stood behind him. . . . The report us to the missing compositor having gone on a visit to his aunt at the Ma’strom is feared to be without foundation.

Still tbo good nows sped on its way. Tho n ewsboy cautiously hurried along, ever and anon glancing to the right and left in anxiety. His face was pule, yet ho nobly sought to fulfil hia duty. Warily ho unveiled to the gentle reader a paragraph in the newspaper. It ran thus: —“The steamship borrento, from Now Zealand, with a cargo of frozen me .’’ But the figure with the dark blue apron,light blue sleeves, sharpening steel hung from a leather th'mg, hatchet, and gleaming knife, stood behind him. . .... No hope of recovering the newsboy is entertained.

Yet the message sped on until it reached the right hands. And here it is :

Sorrento, from New a cargo of frozen mutton amounting to 5838 carcases, arrived in London on Wednesday, 7th February. The average rate at which the meat was purchased by the butchers was 7fd per lb.” But now—aha! —let tho figure in the blue apron come and do his worst! We have told it, and we are prepared to die in the execution of our duty. And this is what the newspaper (which seems equally devoted with ourself) says about itThe general consumer is not likely, therefore, to benefit in the slightest degree by this welcome shipment ; but he will gain indirectly, since every success! ul arrival of frozen meat from the antipodes brings nearer the day when he will be able to purchase it direct, and free from the intervention of the übiquitous middleman.” Ah, yes ! let us hope so. Meanwhile you—you needn’t, don’t you know —tell the übiquitous middleman —unless he asks you—that we helped to circulate the news. He’s a powerful person, and there’s no knowing what awful punishment on us the “Custom of the Trade” may legalise.