This office is performed by fellowship-porters. Being responsible individuals, they prevent fraud. Formerly a set of scamps, called laggers, ‘conveyed’ the fish; but they used to drop some of the best sort softly into the stream, and pick them up at low water. An idea may be formed of the profits of their dishonesty, from the fact that laggers offered seven shillings a day to be employed, instead of demanding the wages of labour. When a salesman had one or two hundred turbots consigned to him, a lagger would give the hint to an accomplice, who would quickly substitute several small fish for the same number of the largest size; a species of fraud which the salesman had it not in his power to detect, as the tally was not deficient. At that time an immense number of bad fish was condemned every morning by the superintendent. There was an understanding between the consignees and salesmen that when the market was well supplied, any overplus should be kept back in store boats at Gravesend, and not brought to market till the supply was diminished, and the price raised. This dishonest mode of ‘regulating’ the market caused a great many stale fish to be brought to it; hence the quantity condemned. Now, however, the celerity with which fish can be conveyed prevents any such practice, and of late years the superintendent has only had occasion to condemn in rare instances. Every possible expedient and appliance is now resorted to, to bring fish to market fresh. As we have a minute or two to wait on the Billingsgate punt before the market opens, let us trace the history of a fish from the sea to the salesman’s stall. Suppose him to be a turbot hauled with a hundred other captives early on Monday afternoon on board one of the Barking fishing fleet moored on a bank some twenty miles off Dover. He is no sooner taken on board than he is trans-shipped immediately with thousands of his flat companions in a row-boat into a clipper, which is being fast filled from other vessels of the fleet. When her cargo is complete, she sets sail for the mouth of the Thames, and on entering it is met by a tug steamer, which tows her up to Billingsgate early on Tuesday morning, bringing our turbot _alive_—for he has been put into a tank in the hold of the clipper. He is sold as soon as landed, and finds his way to table in the neighbourhood of the Mansion House or Belgrave Square some four-and-twenty hours after he has been sporting in the sea, not less than a hundred and fifty miles off.