Marrow bones seem to have been in favour at an early date. 2,000 marrow bones were among the requisites for the Goldsmiths’ Company’s feast, on St. Dunstan’s day, 1449.

In the reign of Edward VI., 1548, a time of plague and scarcity, the king thought it prudent to fix the price of cattle, &c., sold in the several seasons of the year:—

£s.d.
The best fat ox, from Midsummer to
Michaelmas, at		250
One of inferior sort180
The best fat ox, from Hallowmas to
Christmas		268
One of inferior sort1198
The best fat ox, from Christmas to
Shrovetide		284
One of inferior sort268
The best fat wether, from shearing time
to Michaelmas		040
One of ditto, shorn030
The best fat ewe026
One ditto, shorn020
The best fat wether, from Michaelmas
to Shrovetide		044
One ditto, shorn030
Essex barrelled butter, per pound000¾
All sorts of other barrelled butter, per
pound		000½
Essex cheese, per pound000¾
All other sorts000½

We are not quite such prodigious devourers of eggs as our French neighbours, having a greater amount of meat or solid animal food to fall back upon, and fewer fast days. Another reason is, that we cannot, like the French, get them so fresh and cheap; but as an alimentary substance, eggs are always in demand at a ratio proportionate to the prices at which they can be obtained. In Paris the consumption of eggs is at least 175 per annum to every head of the population; in the departments it is more than double that amount; eggs entering into almost every article of food, and butchers’ meat being scarce and dear. If we only use, in London, half the number of eggs the Parisians do, there must be a sale of about 173 millions a year; and the consumption throughout the kingdom would be fully 2,000 millions. Although smaller in size, and not equal to a new-laid egg, the French eggs arrive in pretty good condition, and, if sold off quickly, are well adapted for ordinary culinary purposes. Few are wasted, for even when not very fresh, they are sold for frying fish, and to the lower class of confectioners for pastry. Fried eggs, boiled eggs chopped up with salad, egg sauce for fish, &c., eggs for puddings, for omelets, and pancakes, all contribute to the sale. Omelets, sweet or flavoured with herbs, are much less patronized in this country than they are in France.

The sixty wholesale egg merchants and salesmen in the metropolis, whose itinerant carts are kept constantly occupied in distributing their brittle ware, might probably enlighten us as to the extent and increasing character of the trade, and the remunerative nature of the profits. Railways and steamers bring up large crates, and carefully packed boxes of eggs, for the ravenous maws of young and old, who fatten on this dainty and easily digested food. The various city markets dispose of two millions of fowls, one million of game birds, half a million of ducks, and about one hundred and fifty thousand turkeys, every year. But even if we doubled this supply, what would it be among the three million souls of the great metropolis requiring daily food.

Ireland and the continent contribute largely to our supply of poultry and eggs. Immense pens of poultry, purchased in the Irish market, are shipped by the steamers to Glasgow and Liverpool. Commerce owes much to the influence of steam, but agriculture is no less indebted to the same power. Taking everything into account, and examining all the advantages derived by cheap and rapid transit, the manufacturer of food is quite as much indebted to the steam-ship and the locomotive as the manufacturer of clothing.

There is no difficulty whatever in testing eggs; they are mostly examined by a candle. Another way to tell good eggs is to put them in a pail of water, and if they are good they will lie on their sides, always; if bad, they will stand on their small ends, the large ends always uppermost, unless they have been shaken considerably, when they will stand either end up. Therefore, a bad egg can be told by the way it rests in water—always end up, never on its side. Any egg that lies flat is good to eat, and can be depended upon.

An ordinary mode is to take them into a room moderately dark and hold them between the eye and a candle or lamp. If the egg be good—that is, if the albumen is still unaffected—the light will shine through with a reddish glow; while, if affected, it will be opaque, or dark.

In Fulton and Washington market, New York, a man may be seen testing eggs at almost any time of the year. He has a tallow candle placed under a counter or desk, and taking up the eggs, three in each hand, passes them rapidly before the candle, and deposits them in another box. His practised eye quickly perceives the least want of clearness in the eggs, and suspicious ones are re-examined and thrown away, or passed into a ‘doubtful’ box. The process is so rapid that eggs are inspected perfectly at the rate of 100 to 200 per minute, or as fast as they can be shifted from one box to another, six at a time.

The preservation of eggs for use on ship board has always occupied a large share of attention. They have been usually smeared with oil or grease, and packed in bran or sawdust. A plan recommended by M. Appert for preserving eggs is to put them in a jar with bran, to prevent their breaking; cork and hermetically seal the jar; and put it into a vessel of water, heated to 200 degrees Fahrenheit, or 12 degrees below boiling. The vessel with water being taken from the fire, the water must cool till the finger may be borne in it; then remove the jar. The eggs may then be taken out, and will keep for six months.