One of the most sickening and disgusting sights which I remember was the old slaughter-houses of Smithfield. This Market stood where Paternoster Square now stands. Cattle were driven into the market during the night, bullocks and sheep, and were killed in the early morning and sometimes during the day. I have watched them being slaughtered and seen the blood flow from the slaughter-houses into Paternoster Row. To people of to-day it does not seem possible that such a thing could be allowed in the heart of the City of London. The butchers would often parade round their shops with what was called a Cleaver Chorus; this was done by bringing together with a clash a marrow-bone and their cleaver or hatchet, and quite an attractive sound was produced but not much harmony. When there was an execution taking place at Newgate, these men would gather together in a body in their disgusting blood-soaked overalls and just before the time for the execution rush singing into the crowd surrounding the gallows. However thick the crowd was, the people would give way rather than come into contact with these greasy and disgusting butchers, who by these means got a front position in what should have been a sad and mournful ceremony. It was probably through there being so much more meat near at hand that the prices for lunch were much cheaper then than they are now. I remember in Warwick Lane there used to be a popular refreshment house called "The Bedford," and many times I have had a good lunch there for sixpence, a lunch which consisted of toad-in-the-hole (it was made of a good beef-steak in the middle of batter pudding) for fourpence, potatoes one penny, and ale one penny. Things have changed greatly since those times. There also used to be in the Oxford Arms passage, situated where some of the St. Paul's residentiary houses now stand, an inn, in association with the hay market held there, named the Oxford Arms. Here each day there was brought on to the table a good joint of beef or a leg of mutton from which you could cut and come again, with vegetables, pastry, etc., all for the price of one shilling. For the sake of many in the City, one is often tempted to wish some of these old customs were with us still. I have a lingering remembrance of an important event occurring just before bedtime in December, 1867. A fire was evident somewhere at the West End, so off I started and was in time to see the last of Her Majesty's Theatre which was that night entirely burned down. It was a grand sight, but the crowd which collected was unbearable. I understood that at the time an opera was being played and several of the great performers of the day, such as Titiens, Christine Neilson, and Santley, were among the artistes present. It was a sight never to be forgotten.