In this atmospheric context the question of London fog and the smoke nuisance naturally emerges. The table of the total number of days of fog in London from 1871 onwards published in the Meteorological Society's Journal shows a decline in the 'seventies and a recrudescence in the 'eighties and early 'nineties. In 1878 _Punch_ notes ironically that the London fogs made it impossible to see colours at a dressmaker's, but did not interfere with "doing" the Old Masters. There are frequent allusions in his pages to the Conference on Smoke and Fog held in 1880, but at the end of the decade, when the nuisance was unusually acute, _Punch_ launched out in a long, sardonic, and spirited doggerel tribute to the unimpaired sovereignty of the demon King Fog. The occasion was the visitation of January 9th-13th, 1888, when a heavy fog settled over England and a great part of Ireland, traffic by sea and land being greatly impeded and many accidents reported from all parts of the country. But London, as usual, suffered most. _Punch_ describes how King Fog, having summoned all his attendant demons, determined to surpass all his previous efforts in torturing "miserable mortals," and succeeded. [Illustration: FERVOUR IN THE FOG UNPROMISING INDIVIDUAL (_suddenly, his voice vibrating with passion_): "She's moy Unney; Oi'm 'er Joy!"] The fog of January, 1888, was equalled, if not eclipsed, by that of Christmas, 1904, but the table of statistics already referred to records a marked decline from 1900 onwards. Statistics, however, are a poor consolation. The late Director of the Meteorological Society, writing in 1910, frankly owns that no statistics of the "frequency occurrence" of fog warrant the inference that the atmosphere of London is approaching that of the surrounding districts as regards transparency. It is true that an absolute approximation was made in the spring and early summer of 1921, but it was purchased at a cost which even in these days must be regarded as exorbitant. Sir William Harcourt's Bill for the reform of the Government of London, introduced in April, 1884, and withdrawn in July, fell between two stools; it exasperated the Obstructives and failed to satisfy the Reformers. _Punch_, however, seized the opportunity to indulge in a burlesque prophetic account of the first meeting of the reformed Corporation, illustrating the embarrassment created by the _damnosa hæreditas_ of the Metropolitan Board of Works, and, in general, indicating the immense amount of work to be done, and the rooted disinclination of the old gang to undertake it. Yet when the new authority was established five years later, and the first elections to the London County Council were held in January, 1889, it cannot be said that _Punch_ exhibited any great enthusiasm. It is true that in his verses on the "London County Council Dream," widespread improvements and reforms are foreshadowed, but they end up on a note of tempered optimism. [Sidenote: _A Mixed Epitaph_]