A Meaty Point.

And, take a butcher—yes, we said, a butcher. A butcher with an eye for the aesthetic alchemy of choppery is capable of cutting a cutlet which could be placed in a vase beneath the picture of “Sunset over Venice” and still hold its head up. Such a butcher, were he accorded the rightful rib of recognition in the world of artistic cuttery, might prove a Michael Angelo of the cleaver.

In what is considered the least aesthetic of the arts he yet is able to trim a sheep so cunningly that its own fleece wouldn't know it. He can dissociate a steak from its native habitat with the harmonious nicety and modulated grace of the master and lay it, as puissant as the peony, lambent with the blush of dawn, correct to the ounce, on the scales. A performance, in all its aspects, of perfection and beauty; surely a work of art to awaken in the heart of man the gastric juices of human gratitude.