764 
[December, 
Fog Lore. 
ages. Our descendents, after reading an accurate account of 
the manners and habits of the dog, will hesitate between dis- 
gust and laughter when they are told that in the Vidtorian era 
ladies who fancied themselves refined used to kiss these 
unclean and mal-odorous brutes. 
“ Love me, love my dog,” say you ? As the smaller of 
the two evils I will decline to love you ! 
V. FOG LORE. 
S IME out of mind the fogs of England, and especially of 
that conglomerate which does duty as its capital, 
^ have been a favourite subject for Continental wits. 
We have even, in a thoroughly characteristic manner, joked 
over this unpleasant feature of our climate. But the subject 
is fast becoming too serious for jesting, and in place of 
recommending our friends to fit up circular saws in order to 
cut away the opaque and scarcely breathable atmosphere from 
before our doors we have taken alarm, and are beginning to 
arrive at the very luminous conclusion that “ something 
must be done.” For, during the last winter, we learnt from 
experience that a dense fog may last for longer than was 
formerly thought possible. We saw the traditional gloom of 
November last far into February, and we could not help 
concluding that, given the conditions of a low temperature 
and a windless season, London might possibly be wrapped 
for consecutive weeks or even months in a gloom far more 
perplexing than that of a starless night, and against which 
even the electric lamp is powerless. Hence those who — 
doubtless from the purest motives — are anxious to “im- 
prove” every occurrence, have not overlooked so convenient 
a topic. They have painted the destruction of this great 
city, or at least of the majority of its inhabitants, not by 
earthquake, pestilence, cyclone, conflagration, or war, but 
by a doom more weird-like and horrible than any of these 
scourges. A fog denser and more enduring than any yet on- 
record is to settle down upon us. Traffic is to be rendered 
impossible. The existing stocks of fuel and provisions being 
exhausted the miserable people will be driven by cold and 
hunger to attempt their escape. Abandoning their houses 
