The _Sun_ had an eye for urban refinement, too, and begged the aldermen to see to it that pigs were prevented from roaming in City Hall Park. In the matter of silver forks, then a novelty, it was more conservative, as the following paragraph, printed in November, 1834, would indicate: EXTREME NICETY--The author of the “Book of Etiquette,” recently printed in London, says: “Silver forks are now common at every respectable table, and for my part I cannot see how it is possible to eat a dinner comfortably without them.” The booby ought to be compelled to cut his beefsteak with a piece of old barrel-hoop on a wooden trencher. Not even abolition or etiquette, however, could sidetrack the _Sun’s_ interest in animals. In one issue it dismissed the adjournment of Congress in three words and, just below, ran this item: THE ANACONDA--Most of those who have seen the beautiful serpent at Peale’s Museum will recollect that in the snug quarters allotted to him there are two blankets, on one of which he lies, and the other is covered over him in cold weather. Strange to say that on Monday night, after Mr. Peale had fed the serpent with a chicken, according to custom, the serpent took it into his head to swallow one of the blankets, which is a seven-quarter one, and this blanket he has now in his stomach. The proprietor feels much anxiety. Almost every newspaper editor in that era had a theatre feud at one day or another. The _Sun’s_ quarrel was with Farren, the manager of the Bowery, where Forrest was playing. So the _Sun_ said: DAMN THE YANKEES--We are informed by a correspondent (though we have not seen the announcement ourselves) that Farren, the chap who damned the Yankees so lustily the other day, and who is now under bonds for a gross outrage on a respectable butcher near the Bowery Theater, is intending to make his appearance on the Bowery stage THIS EVENING! Five hundred citizens gathered at the theatre that night, waited until nine o’clock, and then charged through the doors, breaking up the performance of “Metamora.” The _Sun_ described it: The supernumeraries scud from behind the scenes like quails--the stock actors’ teeth chattered--_Oceana_ looked imploringly at the good-for-nothing Yankees--_Nahmeeoke_ trembled--_Guy of Godalwin_ turned on his heel, and _Metamora_ coolly shouldered his tomahawk and walked off the stage. The management announced that Farren was discharged. The mayor of New York and Edwin Forrest made conciliatory speeches, and the crowd went away. The attacks of Colonel Stone, editor of the six-cent _Commercial_, aroused the _Sun_ to retaliate in kind. A column about the colonel ended thus: