The cattle plague returns are as imperfect as usual, the
inspectors being either lazy, stupid, or overworked, but they would seem to show that the disease has been almost stationary. The evidence as to the result of Mr. Worms' treatment has been as conflicting as before, while some promising experiments tried by a Mr. Sims have been interrupted by the necessity of putting his patients to death. Mr. Hunt's Bill, making it a misdemeanour for a cow to , jump over a hedge, or something of that kind, has been referred to a select committee of the Lords, and protests against the Government Bill are coming up from all sides. Edinburgh cannot get beef, bullocks from the Orkneys have been seized before their drovers had bettifd of the Act, towns like Ashton find that they will have to pay in county rate more than the total value of all cattle within their limits. Within a month there will be an irresistible olamoar for the repeal of the stupid specimen of legislation forced on the Government by Mr. Lowe, the nines, and the second-rate landlords. Dukes and butchers and that sort of person largely interested in meat are anathematizing it already.
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