The butchers of Limoges are all members of live families; they all live in the same quarter of the town ; and even now in 1886, they form a corpor ation, and observe certain usages and traditions, just as their ancestors did hundreds of years ago. The arch»olo gists see in these five families the des cendants of the butchers who saw the victorious legions of C;osar, and whom the successive invaders of the Limous in country maintained and confirmed in their privileges on account of the usefulness of their services. Existing documents show that the butchers' corporation was legally instituted in the 11th century, and since then their manuer of life appears to have remain ed unchanged. Ask a Limogean about the butchers, and he will tall you that in spits of their sordid and filthy houses, and in spite of their poor ap, pearance, the butchers are very rich and that in the upper parts of their houses, where no stranger ever pene trates, "they walk on carpets," and live luxuriously. These Limogean butchers have, in fact, been looked on for centuries as pariahs. Until the last century, no butcher married a woman not belonging to his caste; •ven to the present days, like the Jew in the past, they affect outward signs of poverty, and the idea that strangers are not welcome in the quarter is a survival of the old usage and pre judice. Formerly no one ever passed through the butchers' street; on the days and at the hours fixed by the Consuls of the town the butchers suld meat in the public market; then when ths market was over, they returned to their quarter, shut up their houses, and let their dogs loose. The Rue de la Boucherie, or as the natives call it, in reference to its shape the Rue Torto, is, I suppose, the most repulsive, the filthiest, and the most picturesque street in modern Europe. It is a eteep and very narrow alley, crooked, like a dog's hind leg, and on each side lined by queer houses, cent uries old, with roofs projecting far over the roadway, walls built of beams and cross timbers, filled in with lath and plaster, and a third and top story en tirely open to the air. 