Dr. Stiggins:
men appearing on the breakfast table under the comely disguise of chicken and tongue. The fleshpots of Egypt! Yes, my friend, even though the Higher Criticism should inform us that Egypt in the traditional sense never existed, that the Red Sea is a forgery of P1 J2 L4 and P6, that Moses was either a Stone Pillar or the Midnight Sky (all of which conclusions seem to me, I confess, infinitely nobler than the traditional view): even then how true the moral remains. Yes; now, as then, the people are a stiff-necked generation, ready, as ever, to place their carnal appetites above their eternal gain. The so-called Israelites in the old fable wearied of the Heavenly Manna, and forgot the Promised Land: and so the mob to-day may weary of the gifts of Packingtown: formaldehyde has ceased, they may say, to charm our palates, glucose is sweet for us no longer, oil of vitriol and gangrened pork will not serve our dainty and luxurious taste, we are weary of the dung of rats. We should like healthy beef, not potted Scandinavian, we want real milk
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