But as our arterial blood is of one colour, while that which returns through our veins is of another, so is there a most remarkable difference in the character of these flowing and ebbing parcels: all those which have come _into_ London being either deceased turkeys or game, while the outgoing or outward-bound parcels are, with scarcely an exception, composed of barrels of live oysters, several of which are accompanied by a good heavy basket of fish. The number of barrels thus despatched from Euston Station within twenty-four hours amounted to 5009, and, as a hundred oysters are usually packed in each barrel, it is strange to think of half a million of “natives” leaving London in one day for the express purpose of wishing “a merry Christmas and a happy new year” to those whose hares, pheasants, partridges, rabbits, turkeys, and chickens have inanimately come to the metropolis on the very same day on the very same errand! To the above “bills of fare” we may add, that during last Christmas week no less than 450 waggons of live cattle arrived at Camden Station within the space of twenty-four hours. CHAPTER VII. THE LOCOMOTIVE ENGINE.--CAMDEN. Considering how many fine feelings and good feelings adorn the interior of the human heart, it is curious to observe with what facility we can put them all to sleep, or, if they won’t sleep, stupify ourselves, at any moment when it becomes inconvenient to us to listen to their friendly admonitions. All the while mailing, coaching, and posting were in fashion, every man’s countenance beamed--every person’s tongue gabbled freely as it described not only “_the splendid rate_” (say ten miles an hour) at which he had travelled, but the celerity with which no sooner had the words “_First turn-out!_” been exclaimed by the scout, who vanished as soon as he had uttered them, than four horses in shining harness had appeared half hobbling half trotting from under the archway of the Red Lion, the Crown, or the Three Bells, before which the traveller had from a canter been almost suddenly pulled up, to receive various bows, scrapes, and curtsies from the landlord and his rosy-faced cap-beribboned wife. But, although we could all accurately describe our own enjoyments, and, like Johnson, expatiate on “the delightful sensations” we experienced in what we called _fast travelling_, who among us ever cared to ascertain, or even for a single moment to think of, the various arrangements necessary for watering, feeding, cleaning, and shoulder-healing all the poor horses whose “brilliant” performances we had so much admired? Whether they slept on straw or on stones--indeed, whether they slept at all--what was their diet--what, if any, were their enjoyments--what were their sufferings--and, lastly, how and where they eventually died--it would have been deemed exceedingly vulgar to inquire; and so, after with palpitating flanks and panting nostrils they had once been unhooked