It may probably be observed by any person who has been so venturous as to read the first hundred or so of our pages, that we are given to statistics. This is so, and it has also been alleged of us that we readily detect errors in them when prepared by others. Without taking to ourselves more than a decorous quantity of flattering unction, we believe we shall be able to show, in a work preparing for early publication, that, as regards Post Office statistics, at all events, none have been issued by the department for the last fifteen years that are not abounding in most egregious blunders, and that the logical dogmas of “contrariety, sub-contrariety, and contradiction” were never carried to greater extent than in these documents. Our statistics and contradictions are, at the present moment, however, of a different character. They refer to what, in the palmy days of Wolverton as a seat of learning and refreshment, formed an important part of the population of the colony; at least they are described as so being, both in an article of the _Quarterly Review_ upon the London and North-Western Railway of 1849, and in Sir Francis Head’s “Stokers and Pokers,” published in the identical same year, and almost in the identical same month. Nevertheless the former names seventy-five pigs and piglings as members of the refreshment establishment; but Sir Francis disputes the figures, raises it ten higher, and not only insists that they were eighty-five in number, but that each was converted, in his or her turn every year, into pork pies and sausage roly-polies. But whichever amount be the correct one, let the pork pies and sausage roly-polies rest in peace. The indigestions of which they were, in their day, the _teterimæ causæ_, have long since passed away. Let no rude attempt be made to re-produce them. Thanks to increased lines of railway at Wolverton, both “main” and “siding,” thanks also to signalling so improved in principle, and so minute in action—signalling which embraces the visible “arm” by day, the visible tri-coloured lamp at night, the audible “fog,” and never-failing, ever truthful Electricity—express and other trains can, and do dart past the fifty-two mile post placed at the eastern extremity of the station with celerity and certainty, the same as at any other part of the system.