292 Saddle and Sirloin. 



his Sunday best, with unkempt hair, and collars up to 

 his cheek-bones, and a visage absolutely beaming with 

 the proud recollection of how " old sow wan." The 

 turfite, who feebly suggested that he didn't see the 

 great difference, as an owner could now eat his horse 

 if he didn't run well, was at once suspected of " chaff- 

 ing" (which countrymen hate of all things), and re- 

 ceived a broadside in unshackled Doric, such as our 

 "steel pen" — whatever Colonel Penn's might do — 

 would despair of reproducing. The fact is, that pig 

 racing, alias pig showing, is a very solemn British in- 

 stitution. Go into a local agricultural show in Lan- 

 cashire and the West Riding of Yorkshire, and the 

 vast majority of the rustics never get beyond the pigs, 

 the poultry, and the washing machines. Booth and 

 Bates cows are wholly lost on them, and the hunters 

 are a drug in their eyes, except when they are " asked 

 a question" over the hurdles. 



No town in those vast hives of industry is more de- 

 voted to its agricultural show that Keighley. It is the 

 high festival . of the year, and on one occasion every 

 window was illuminated. Choice quintets from the 

 Branches, Towneley, and Warlaby herds have met for 

 the cup in its ring. Sheep-dogs and rabbits are not 

 kept back from honour, and the owner of the donkey 

 in the best condition is rewarded with a sovereign. 

 The " neddies" step out very differently since this 

 stimulus was applied, when they 



" Gang for the coals i' the morning," 



and " prods" will soon be a thing of the past. Still, 

 Keighley reserves its highest sympathies for the pig, 

 and 30/. is given in " labouring men's classes" alone. 

 For this, forty to fifty pigs of about 300/. value, and 

 nearly all of the middle breed, compete. The pig is 

 the very Apis of the locality. At dinner-time the 

 men devote half-an-hour rigidly to the stye. They 

 sit and scratch their grunting idols if it is wet ; they 



