Reference was made in an evening paper one day last
month to a purveyor of beaver meat, who supplies that commodity to the fortunate inhabitants of Finsbury Park and environs. I say fortunate, because neither beaver steak nor any other could be worse, and it is almost bound to be better, than an ostensibly bovine steak I had served to me since I last wrote this column. And I am delighted to hear of another variety in the offing. There is, I understand, a plan on foot to bring reindeer from Lapland (together with some Lapps to make them feel at home) to somewhere in, or off the coast of, the North of Scotland. This would really be an interesting experi- ment with considerable possibilities—one of them a supply of reindeer steak, which I am told is excellent, and reindeer tongue, which I am told is better.
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