The Ashburton Guardian.

- SUPPLEMENT TO • ''i,...- j _ . , , ...

ASHBURTON. THURSDAY. DECEMBER 2'i; 1881.

No. 515.1

LPRICE—ONE PENNY.

.'published every evening.]

ORIGINAL POETRY.

The following little,song is presented to the young 'people’of Ashburton by the Wift&r* iiwith i: the ; compliments of the Bfesion and his kindest wishes : ’ '‘- h : >3 THE iMOXJSE’S ELEA- ' Are—The fine old English Gentleman, iirateu about a little mouse, I si , And what did her;befall: o-She'had:her dwelling in a house, J -i;’Or; rather, in a wall. ; ; u.iA cozy, little pest had she, Tntmd neatly round and round— ; nA happier mouse there couldn’t be In any country found. offobd shehad to eat, ,; it- JiAnd.-conld her palate please ; With many a sweet and dainty bit, Besides h6r bread and cheese. h Eut. stolen all—yes, that is true— She didn’t care for that;; A ThUlouly care Miss,Mousie knew Was, to avoid the, cat. ■,.. ■ It chanced a friend .invited her ft.-, Toiseei the world outside, a, And told her. of a heap of malt , o’iot’Which he had lately tried. ;r: , - And so the friends together went .3! Aftdffouadtheibrdwery near; And, being WobO prandial thoughts intent,” -.jo >ri. ■: • r They, never, thought of fear.. best .laid schemes, o’ mice and men- v. ' Gang aftkagee,” ’tia said; o !ourtnbUßieloßt her footing, then lost her head. ” 5‘ Foh/ creeping slyly up the way— "Oh, horror !—was the cat. ‘'jThe mousie jumped, and, sad to say, Went splash into a vat. ■ - ;.iAnd there she swam all round and iforav rouild, 'J ; -u. And very -tired she grew. .r She thought—- Oh dear! must I be <iidrowned! Whatever-shall I do ?” , She-d eaten of the malt her fill — ,o’jnßut. oh !" the horrid cat— -iShfe-now;drank beer against her will, Imprisoned in a vat. Then, looking up in blank despair, ■ •’St'ejsaw the cat’s great eyes; '. What wonffra'deaperate mbusie dare? She pjeaded in this wise— “ O, pull me up, good Mister Cat,’ Tour worship I entreat; Gi'saVe'my life, and after that My body you; may eat. ” : “A bargain,” said the cat; “ so here, :‘ ; I’U‘sav dyborilffe, my httlfe'dear, '(Aside) And then I'll eat you raw.” Safe landed, mousie disappeared, Her woxd.aud promise broke;, For’iudden-death she greatly feared, ( And couldn’t see the joke. ■The cat expressed his deep disgust, And said—“ You little sinner, Come out and keep your word, you must ;; 'Notrobifaeof my dinner.” . “ The breach of promise,” said the :1 " ; . “ Jou cannot make a crime. Tgave’mywdfd/but then I was In liquor.at the time." • . • J/ C. Ashburton, 16th Dec., 1881.

Christmas Prise Story.

... THE .A' - NABOB'S MISTAKE.

•,By. “Nun Sum Qualxs Eram.”

MJ CHAPTER I. : Captain W.opdby Grand, as he sat; in his (library, thoughtfully looking through the'window over his beautiful and honle-like estate near Timaru, was a true-type of the old Indian veteran settled; down to peaceful farming. He had ploughed his way through the ranks of rebel sepoys to fame and but had laid aside the sword to! try another sort of ploughing, and had been tolerably successful. He was abdtit 55 years 'of age j 1 but bis find, open, genial countenance betrayed little of the ravages; of either pr a residence in a.tropical climate. .Kind and generous as he naturally was, His former life had rendered him rather

despotic and apt to fly-into terrible, passions. At such times he endeavored to'behd everybody to his will at any cost, and everybody got out of the way when the “ Nabob as he was called —rgol; into a rage. Those that knew him scarcely‘heeded his stormings, for they knew that his rage once over he would soon efface all recollections of it by his generosity and kindness. Ashe sat there, three days before Christmas Day, he was evidently worried and perplexed, and was nerving himself for a duty for which he had no inclination. -He had sent for his daughter Helen, and he smoothed his frowning brow as he heard her tripping up the hall. She entered the room, and after affection ately sklutirig heir father, took a" Seat," evidently fully prepared for what was corning. As she sat there, one saw at onfcje.that she had inherited her father’s handsome face (and not a little of bis' deterfeination); softened, however,- by the beauty and gentleness of her mother, long since laid in an Indian cemetery., She was just twenty-one, and heir iright blue eyes seemed perpetually laughing; but the broad fair forehead above told of a good intellect; and, as a matter o r fact, she had left one, of the best English schools three years before, thoroughly accomplished. She was beloved by all, and especially by one, as will be seen as .her father begins to speak. «I have sent for you, Nelly, to read

you two letters I have written, one to Mr Goldsmith, and the other to Jack Dagriels. You know very well that I shall never force your affections, but I < do hope and think you will be alive to • your own interests. I will never con sent Jto. yottfenwirying Jack Dagriels, and Twould nrge”~--r ---";Ob, papa, it is. no'use. It pains me , to refuse you anything, but I could not r- marry. Mr Goldsmith:i 1,.wi11, promise - never to marty Jack con

sent, but 1 can never think of anybody else. Let me bear the letters, how ever.”. The Nabob look from a drawer two letters. He hesitated which to read first, and took both letters out, and spread them before him. At last he read “ Dear Sir, —Much as I esteem you as a friend and neighbor, I regret that I cannot accede to your request to allow you to address my daughter Helen. Ido not think our relative positions warrant you in asking such a thing. As in future I do not think it wise for you to visit here, I have given instructions that we shall not be home to you if you call, and any letters you may send will be returned unopened.- —-I am, &c.” “Poor Jack,” said Helen, sorrow fully, “ and the pnly fault you can find with him is that he has not so much gold as some others.” “My dear,” said the Nabob, in a tone of irritation, “ I am acting for i your good, and this silly fancy of yours will soon die out.” “Never,” said she, almost-fiercely. ! “ While I obey you in giving'up Jack, I cannot, nor will not, CeaSe to love him. I cannot marry another.” “ Pshaw ! nonsense,” said her father, angrily. “ Before long I hope to see you the wife of Mr Goldsmith. Listen to what I have written to him : “Dear Sir—l have the greatest pleasure in granting you my consent to address my daughter Helen. I feel sure she will favorably receive your suit, and you have my -hearty wishes for your success. I hope you will be able tr> spend Christmas with us, and can perhaps spare a few days from your business. —I remain, &c.”

“ Paj v! It is cruel and useless.” She sobbed. The Nabob turned round in anger and was about to speak, 1 but instead he hastily slipped the letters into the envelopes and left the room. A moment after, he might have been heard roaring for his horse, as though it had been ordered hours before. Helen was much too hearty and sen sible a girl to give way to useless tears, and quickly dried her eyes, and thoughtfully took up the letter to Jack. It remained still unsealed, and a few words caught her eye as she turned it over. Immediately the expression of her face was altered as she quickly dropped the letter. Her father entered the room ready for riding, and she threw her arms round his neck saying, “Whatever happens papa,” I know you onlv act for the best. Nothing shall ever divide us, and I am sure

Jack will not again trouble you till you send for hiim”: .He Took up the let ters, sealed them; and was quickly on his way to the post.

CHAPTER It

Before describing the events of Hunt famous Christmas -Day,’ let. us. see why the Nabob was so in favor of Mr Gold smith and against poor Jack. He was supposed to be, and indeed was, a wealthy man, but the greater part of his wealth was invested in speculations, and he had therefore little spare capital. His estate had cost him Lio.ooo, and he had expended nearly as much more in improvements, and in order to do this he had been compelled to borrow largely. He had known Mr Gold smith, now a large merchant in Christ church, 1 for years in India," ahd had helped him considerably at the open ing,of.his career there, they being di,s r , tantly related. He readily got the ad : vances he required from him, Mr Goldsmith was a fine handsome man of forty, and carried his age well, but his Indian sojourn had rendered him like the Nabob, rather hasty and choleric; He was, however, exceedingly well bred and very prosperous. Fifteen years before, when Helen was a little gtrl, she had amused them all by announc ing that when she grew up, “ she should be Mrs Goldsmith,” and it is more than probable that if the handsome face of Jack Dagriels had not appeared on the scene, she would hasp been by no means averse to carrying out her girlish promise. She had a very great es teem for her fathers old friend which might easily have been framed into a stronger feeling. The Nabob Had fully entered into the joke with his little girl till the. idea became serious, and at last became a pet scheme. On their voyage out, however, there had been as fellow passenger on the Coto paxi, a fine young gentleman on his re turn from Oxford to New Zealand. ,They had only been a few days at sea, when the Nabob found that Helen and Mr John Dagriels had a ; very strong liking for each other. He help admiring and liking the young man, who was six feet high, broad, and evidently more of a devotee to muscular Christianity than books. He soon learned that “Jack” —nobody after two days’ acquaintance ever called hum anything but '* Jack ” —was a I thoroughly sterling fellow. He had left New Zealand four years before consigned to the care of an uncle to be sent to Oxford, where he will be long remembered as the stroke of the college boat that had got to the head of the river, and as one of the eleven that had so annihiliated Cambridge. The dons spoke well of him, though he did not take his degree. No wonder Helen was always looking for his bright laugh ing face, with its long tawny moustache. It is probable that the Nabob would have had no objection to Jack had he not been so thoroughly determined that he would transform his friend into a son-in-law, and he hoped that when they parted at Melbourne that Helen would soon forget all about Jack. Gijeht' WaShis surprise, therefore- three mpnths later, to meet Jack at the J sale--

yard in Tiiriaru, and to find that in buying his estate, he was really becom ing a near neighbor of Jack’s. He learned then that just before Jack had reached home his father had died, leav ing to Jack his well-stocked farm, and that Jack had settled down to be a practical farmer, and bid fair to be a successful one.: The, three years that had since passed had proved that the confidence of his father in Jack had not been mis-placed, and notwithstanding the Nabob’s letter to hihi, if was .by no means presumptuous on his part to as pire to Helen’s-hand. He had never spoken a word to Helen, but as soon as he found his position secure, he ap pealed to the Nabob, with the result we have seen.

The Nabob’s house, although much had been expended on it, was not architecturally a wonder. This may be accounted for by the fact that originally it had been a substantial eight-roomed farmer’s house, but the Nabob’s orders and counter-orders to the architect had been so conflicting that the result was more peculiar than picturesque. However, once inside, you saw that, straggling as it was, it was thoroughly comfortable, and furnished in a style seldom seen in New Zealand. A long wide hall went along the front of the house, at one end of which was the principal room, and at the other the Nabob’s snuggery, called by some the “ Library,” by others the “ Growlery.” This description of part of the house is necessary before we proceed with the events of the memorable Christmas Day of 187 —. The Christmas party—for the Nabob alwas managed to gather a goodly number of his friends on that day—had partly assembled, but Helen was on the verandah, evidently anxiously waiting for someone whom she wished to see before the rest did. At last Jack’s well known buggy was seen turning into the avenue, and a few moments later Jack himself stepped on to the- verandah-,- with an expression that said that he Was well satisfied with the whole world. Helen beckoned him hastily into the 'library, which opened on to the iverandah, and closed the door after !him, as he entered with some surprise. There was a subdued hum of voijees for two or three moments, when--Jack’s hearty laugh might have been heard peeling forth, but it was , instantly checked by something, apparently somebody’s hand, being placed overplus mouth. Then the library door opened, and Jack crossed over to the dining room with the most comical expres sion on his countenance. . While he had been in the library the Nabob’s man, who had been sent to the town ship, some eight miles off, for letters, had returned with only one telegram, which was immediately taken tc the' Nabob, who was upstairs. Then came a fearful storm from above, and as J the Nabob came raving down stairs the only intelligible remark he made was “ Where is Helen.” That young lady met him at the foot of the stairs in the hall, and found him purple in the face holding an open telegram in his hand. “ Have .you anything to.do with this?” he stormed, as he threw 1 the telegram towards her. “ Have you written to that conceited puppy since my letter to him?”

“ No, papa,” she replied, and it was noticed she was wonderfully cool. “ I cannot reckon any canine animal among my correspondents.” “Silence! Miss'! You know what I mean.” And as he tured to the as sembled servants she had a chance of leading the telegram as follows —“I shall certainly De with you on Christmas Day, if °nly to chastise your outrage ous impudence.” It was from Mr Goldsmith, and she was not surprised at the heat of her father, who in the meantime continued to roar to his servants —

“ If Mr Goldsmith shows his no'se ‘at my door throw him out —put him'in the horsepond.” In the hubbub nobody had heard the sound of a horse hurriedly ridden up the avenue, and just as the Nabob uttered this order Mr Goldsmith himself stepped in at the open door. He was evidently greatly excited, and hearing the extraordinary Christmas welcome he. was to receive didj not tend to .calm hirh. Both looked‘at each other for’a few moments, as though they had not expected to meet so soon' ! At last Mr Goldsmith managed to say—

“ So you would put me in the horse pond. You must be a lunatic. Fifteen years ago in India- ”

The Nabob, in a frinzy, roared — “ Get out of my hoyse, you impertinent jackanapes, or I will myself turn you out.” , , •

“ You will find two can play at that, and my turning out may be more effectual than yours.” Mr Goldsmith said this almost quietly ; he seemed to realise that the situation was more serious than he had calculated on. He was a man of good personal courage, and as he saw the Nabob frantically catch up a stout stick, he shortened the grasp of his heavy riding whip. He waited while the Nabob took one step towards him, and then, as all the ladies present uttered loud shrieks, he raised his whip high in the air and “ Hold the Governor tight, Bob,” said Jack, as he regularly lifted Mr Goldsmith to the other end of the hall. Bob, by the way, whs Helen’s brother, and nearly as athletic as Jack. He had the Nabob round the waist as Jack had Mr Goldsmith, who, however, was quiet at once. The Nabob struggled in his son’s firm grasp, till, seeing Jack, his astonishment was so great that it seemed to dissipate his

rage. He looked for a moment, : and then said—

“ And what, in all conscience, brings you here ?” “I must admit your kind letter should have been replied to,” quietly said Jack; “ but I was away at Dunedin when it arrived, and only re turned last night. I should have ex plained if I had'bad an opportunity.” “ Cool, I must say,” said the Nabob, as he dropped into a chair, “ and had you no fear of being ducked in the horse-pond ?” “ Hallo ! ” said Mr Goldsmith, “is that your usual Christmas welcome ?” “ You certainly sent me a most kind invitation and a most satisfactory answer to an enquiry I made.” As Jack said this he took Helen’s hand. Mr Goldsmith gave a long, low whistle, as he took a letter from his pocket and handed it to the Nabob, with the remark— “ Perhaps that in vitation was for Mr Dagriels and not forme.”

The Nabob glanced at it, laid back in his chair, and laughed long and loudly, managing to gasp out at last, however ; “The —letters —were—put — into—wrong-envelopes.” Such was the mystery. But Mr Goldsmith had learned much in the last few moments. He had, although admiring Helen very much, never been right down really in love. He bad rather been led on by the Nabob, and drifted into the engagement with a vague idea that he was a lucky fellow, and certainly thought he could make his little playmate' of fifteen years thoroughly happy. He had no thought but that Helen’s affections were his own; and as her happiness was his object, he readily resigned in favor of Jack ; nay more, he assisted them to bring the Nabob to their way of think ing. At last the Nabob had to give way, and in they went to the greatly delayed dinner. Mr Goldsmith sat 'sat next to a buxom widow, and ap peared to enjoy himself in spite of his loss.

I During dinner the Nabob burst out laughing several times at the “ awful rage Goldsmith was in,” quite oblivious to the fact that he himself had been angry. When the dinner was nearly ;over, he said to Helen —

i “ Tell me, you little puss, that is if you can spare a moment from that great boy there, did you know of the change of letters ?’* ‘ y ... j “Yes, papa. When you left .the room, you left them: both/on the table Sunsealed. I took up one, and found Uni had put them in wrong envelopes. I should have told you, but— but —I knew you and Mr Goldsmith would never really quarrel, you know ; and— and—l believed—that is thought— that Jack would so like to get that other letter.”

It was arranged that Jack should drive Mr Goldsmith over to his farm and back in the morning. As tjhey, drove home* Mr G. expressed Ms opinion that he thought he was getting almost past a marrying age, but the subject soon dropped, and: by- way of changing it said, “A remarkably fine woman Mrs Money penny'is. ’ I; have nbt met her since'‘be died. I knew Moneypenny 1 well.” Jack; gave a peculiar smile and wished him “ Good niglit” Just- a year afterwards within two days, ;j the Nabob was sitting in.. his library, when he was startled by a great excitement in the house. At last he heard someone say “ It’s Mrs Uagriels and baby.” Helen had brought over little Jack, aged one month, for the first time. The Nabob was in great excitement, but at last said —“Well, Helen, I’m glad you have come over. You must arrange'for Christmas. We shall be about the same party as last year, as I have just had a letter from the Goldsmiths. Their honeymoon is over, and they are back in Christchurch. They will be here to-morrow.”

CHRISTMAS EVE WITH A BRIGAND.

j ' A 1 True Tare. i? - \ A few years ago T was travelling through • a quiet Greek village ; called Kadekem, which is situated on the Asiatic shore of the Sea of Marmora, and as I intended visiting an old friend" of “mine, who had bken for some years a resident in the npwHwlV/Wl °f. v |l^?v,. l d t J?Wh'|is;T cduld do no hotter than spend liiy Christ-;, mas with him. After some little inquiry, I found that my friend’s house was about four miles from the.village, and this dis tance I determined to walk on Christmas Eve—the same evening, in fact, that I arrived in thh neighborhood. 1 I startrrV'off oh my •journey full of the pleasurable anticipations of meeting once more,ipy dpar old friend and his family., ancl having a good chat over old times. Little did I know, however, what was in stbre for me that same night, or that I should have been the means of doing my friend such a service as it ultimately turned out. So op after. XjtP.Wfedni thg clfiufis; begftn tq (! apd I, could sp^,.thaji,,^e ( ,jWpatjiqr. had; hepli fine,hitherto, 1 Was,, going to a change. I soon reached the place where ! intended passing, as I thought, such a pleasant evening, and truly a most hearty wel come was given me. It was not long, I can assure you, befoye I was comfortably seated round the fire, after having par taken of a capital supper, which I duly appreciated after my four mile walk. We had been chatting for about an hour when we heard the heavy hail and rain beating against the windows,, .and the wind howl ing terrifically‘outside.- - Once or twice we thought we heard someone knocking at the front door, but owing to the noise of the wind and hail, we took very little notice. At last my friend jumped up out of his chair, and said he was sure someone was knocking at the door. With this he at bnce proceeded to the door and opened

it, and to our surprise we found tfia there really was someone there. For some little time my friend was un ab’e to make out who the nocturnal visitor was, or consisted of, or intended to repre sent. Almost hent with age, clothed in a most scanty style, and with filthy rags, stood, apparently, a wretched woman, who, in a most pitiable manner, begged for some food and shelter for the night. My friend seemed greatly surprised, and hesitated for some time at the propriety of giving either food or shelter to such an object, and at such a time of night—but as he possessed an English heart, and re membering.the joyful season of the year, he, with the spirit of. the good Samaritan, overcame any natural suspicions he may have felt, and determined to afford her shelter for the night.

The wife of rny friend and myself agreed to the admittance of the wanderer, and she was sent into the kitchen, where, it is almost needless to state, every comfort was shown her, and abundance of food and drink served out to her. I caught a glimpse of the creature’s expression just before she passed into the kitchen, and strange forebodings came over me as to the propriety of her being allowed to stop the night. During the conversation which ensued during the remainder of the evening, I mentioned the fact of my having noticed something very strange about the visitor’s, countenance. My friend then went out for the purpose of seeing that the woman, who complained so greatly of the fatigue, etc., was led to her bed. The room she was to occupy was on the third floor of the house and was empty, but a capital “ shake down ’ was provided for her on the floor.

After ta'king about old times, old friends, and the vicissitudes and changes in life which had come over my friend since last we met, and, having spent an extremely pleasant evening, we retired for rest, with the full intention of rising the following morning full of joy and that glorious feeling which a Christmas always calls forth during the life of an English man. I suppose that I had hardly lain on the bed more than twenty minutes or so before 1 found myself still awake and feeling very uncomfortable and uneasy. I fancied that for some reason or other the visitor should not have been allowed to enter my friend’s house. I imagined all sorts of things and I could get no rest at all. I could stand it no longer, and I determined that, come what might, 1 should go at once and find out the room where the woman was put.

It was about half-past twelve at night when I crept silently out of my room and made my way to the room where I had seen my friend order her into, and where the “ shake 'down ” was made. Very cautiously I stepped up to her door, I can assure you, but more than once during the short time which had elapsed, had I thought in my own mind that 1 was acting very foolishly indeed. What business was it of mine to interfere with my friend’s visitor, even if I had bad any un pleasant thoughts ? Still, the determina tion to see whether the room was safe from fire, or the fact of the visitor being still in her room made me in earnest. As soon as I went to the door of the room I noticed that the key was on the outside, and my first impulse was turn it and lock the door. I did so, and pulled the key out, and directly this was done my suspi cions were at once aroused by a slight commotion which was made in the room, and a bright light, which streamed out of the keyhole, into the dark passage. Here then was a dual assurance that the mysterious anxiety, .which hung over me the whole evening had somehow or other the power of making me try to find out its cause. If ever I felt uncomfortable it was just then. I peeped through the key-hole, and there I saw our visitor standing ready clad, but certainly not in the same garments that she was introduced to my friend. Yes, sure enough, on one side were the veritable rags in which the creature came in, hut in her place stood a powerful Circassian, and armed to the teeth. The rags were evidently the sole relics of the pitiable hag that my friend had rpscurrl from the elements, but beside them' stood a far different species of humanity, whose tall brawny figure was exactly the reverse of what I had antici pated. There he stood, iu full dress, his leathern belt stuck full of pistols, while— honor !—he tried on his thumb the edge of a “ cama,” or long curved dagger. This was certainly far from pleasing, and I began to consider what kind of Christ mas I should probably have enjoyed had this ruffian effected his errand of murder, for which, apparently, he came well pre pared. Apparently satisfied with his “ cama,” and glancing at his equipment, he took two or three paces toward the door. From this point I could see the whole of his face, which plainly denoted the vidian'in every sense of the word. My first inclination was to shout out to my friend to como up and help to take -him l prisoner, but I thought tin’s would only‘show him 'that we were - frightened, apd'WWild have‘probably enabled him to rdsh otifiand tnurder us before we were ready. I determined to creep downstairs aoain to my own room, and try my re volver, which T always carry whilst travelling, and endeavor to awaken mj ’friend without any noise, if possible. This I soon did, and on considering the matter over in a very few hurried whispers with him, we decided that he should go to the nearest corps de gard for policemen, as from my description he cobid plainly see what kind of a customer wp had to deal with. A few minutes after mv friend left the house on this (brand I heard unmistakeable sounds from the direction of the visitor’s room, as if he were trying to force the door. I did not wait long, for presently the door opened with a hang, and out came our soi desant hag, without, apparently, a little regard for man, as if he was the possessor of the house and its contents already. I immediately took up my position at the foot of the stairs and waited, revolver in handj having safely locked the door of my friend’s Yoom, so that his wife and children would not he attacked without some little delay. In heavy marching order came this hold Circassian, his firm rapid footsteps bespoke determination, until within twelve feet ox where I was standing. I then thought that I should make my presence known to him, and prepared myself to see him attempt to retreat when ho found he was watched in his movements. “Stop!” I cried, “Go hack to your room.” The cool fellow never moved until he had taken a pistol from his belt, and had fired it in the direction he thought he had heard the j sound from Directly I had called out to him I knelt down on the ground, and

i fortunate it was that I had done so in time, for the bullet whizzed past my head as it was. X stood up and fired four shots in succession, and directly a solid lump of humanity rolled senseless to the bottom of the stairs, without so much as a word or a groan. Directly the five shots wore fired, a man rushed into the hall, and as I was extremely excited I could think of nothing but burglars, and I immediately let fly another chamber of my revolver at the intruder. The unfortunate individual I found out afterwards, was hit in the leg, hut as it was only a flesh wound he soon recovered. The yells he made were re markable, and never shall I forget the poor fellow’s fright. Just as the servant disappeared, my friend arrived with about six policemen, but, as usual, they came of course when it was all over, as we expected. The police then searched the ruffiian whom I had shot, and we found that he was only severely wounded, but not fatally. He was then bound up and carried out on the lawn in front of the house. During the search a number of infamous-looking articles were found upon the insensible burglar, and the police, “as if with man ner bred,” never forgot his pockets, which, on being turned out, revelled a very simple little tin whistle, innocent looking, no doubt. I took it up and blew a shrill whistl. Immediately this was done four similarly-dressed ruffians rushed out of the shubbery near at hand, and fell into the hands of the police, who quickly bound and handcuffed their prisoners. v The four ruffians had evidently been misled by the whistle, as they ap peared utterly helpless directly they saw their position,.and it was no very difficult matter to secure them, and ultimately they were carried off to the corps de garde, where summary justice was dealt out to the ruffians. ■

As may be expo ted, I did not feel very comfortable the whole of the Christmas day in my friend’s house, but I felt thankful that I had come upon the scene in time to be of some service, and never shall I" forget the events of that Christmas Eve on the Continent, and the encounter with my hrst and last, I hope, of I ’rigands.

MAKING A NIGHT OF IT.

By “ Mask.” CHAPTER I. The c'ock over the chimney-piece struck five, and Mr Septimus Dormouse closed his books, washed his hands, and care fully locking the office door put the key in his pocket and stnlled up town. Then, having nothing particular to do, he lit his pipe and sauntered towards the rail way station to see the train arrive from the “ City of the Plains,” which was the event of the day in the sleepy little town ship of Waipotato. Hah ! if

B it we anticipate, as the novelists say.

There was the little crowd of loungers on tle platform waiting to see the train com ? in by way of killing time and Mr. Dor nouse had hardly done nodding to his acquaintances when the train hove in sight and a minute or two later drew up at° the platform. Instantly the usual bustle commenced. Yan doors were jerked open and banged to, porters ran about with bags and boxes, passengers alighted and jostled one another on the platform, and Mr Dormouse was just thinking of beating a retreat homewards, when he received a slap on the back which nearly knocked the pipe out of his mouth, and turning sharply round found himself confronted by a jolly looking individual with reddish whiskers and a sun-burnt face, what the novelist afore said, in fact, would describe as a “ bronzed

complexion.” “ Septimus ! ” “ Saddripp ! ” The recognition was simultaneous. “ Why, who the deuce would have thought of meeting you in this outlandish place?” exclaimed Mr Saddripp, shaking Mr Dormouse by the hand in a way that threatened to jerk it off. “ And where on earth have you sprung from ? ” said Mr Dormouse, in accents of unfeigned pleasure. “Ex ‘ Ocean Queen ’ now unloading at Lyttelton,” replied Mr S. “ But let us get out of this. I was going on by this train to Dunedin to-night. Now I shad stop here, at least for the present, with you, and yarn about the good old times of long ago. By jove is it seven or eight years since we met ?—well, well, never mind ; here I stop pro. tem, at any rate and to celebrate this, this auspicious occasion as the newspapers say, I tell you what we’ll do Septimus, my buck, —we’ll make a night of it ! ” “What’s the matter old man ?—any thing wrong ? ” Mr Dormouse looked rather embar rased.

“ Why no,” he said, with a feeble little laugh after pausing for a moment, “ but the fact is I, I have sown my wild oats, olfl boy —I, lam married.” !«■' Wh—ew—the dickens you are, you sly old dog, you ! ” said Mr Saddripp, with a serio-comic expression of counte nance, giving Mr D. one of those playful digs fin the ribs that facetious people usually bestow, on learning that a friend has entered the married state or is about to do so. “ Poor old boy ! ” |Why Mr Saddripp should have com miserated his friend on hearing that he a married man it would be hard to saj, unless he had detected something in Mr Dormouse’s face which led him to do SO, “ And this is the mansion of all the Dormouses—perhaps I should say dor mice—is it 1" continued Mr S., as his friend opened the garden gate of one of those neat T shaped cottages so common in this colony. “ Hah ! Hah !” laughed Mr Dormouse, rather nervously, as he rapped at the door.

“ Ta your mistress at home, Mary Ann 1” he enquired of the servant-maid, as she appeared iu answer to the knock. “ Missis ’avo gone bout, sir, to the Ladies’ Sewing Club ; and you wasn’t to wait tea because she mi"ht notbe’ome. ” “ Good ! ” exclaimed Mr Dormouse, with an alacrity that was suspicious, all his dejection disappearing-, as i ! l y magic. “ Gone out to the Ladies’ Club aud may not he back to tea eh 1 hah ! hah ! —conic in Saddripp, my boy, and make your.ie.f at home. You’re hungry I know—So am T, we’ll have tea at once. Dinner we seldom have, for I am away all day at the

office, you see. and Mrs Dormouse likes to have her afternoons quite fiee ; and so ;you see, Saddripp, we make a dinner-tea of it.”

And so they had tea, and adjourned to ; the back garden afterwards to smoke :pipes and talk about old times and old friends at home.

“ Talking is dry work,” exclaimed Mr Saddripp at length after spinning yarns innumerable about his adventures since he and Dormouse met. “What do you say if we take a turn down town and play a game at billiards—you used to be able to give me points—and get a glass of beer or something ; my throat is like a lime kiln.”

“ I am awfully sorry, Saddripp,” said Septimus “ that I have nothing in the house to offer you. If Mrs Dormouse was at home I would get her to let us have a bottle of her ginger wine—home made Sir, and goes oft" the palate like Sherry.” “ No thanks,” said Mr S. with a alight shudder. “ Never touch home-made wines ; and remember the time when you would never touch anything of the kind either. Yery singular thing how marriage alters people. Seems to have a sort of taming-down effect so to speak. Excuse my freedom of speech Septimus but this is a thing I could understand.” Mr Dormouse looked embarrased and yielding to his friend’s persuasions con sented to take a turn down town, leaving word with Mary-Anne that he would bo back in half-an-hour. “ Not that I play billiards now, Saddripp, and I never stay out after 10 o’clock at night. Oh it is all very well to laugh, but ‘ early to bed early to rise ’ you know ;—and besides you don’t know Matilda.” And so arm in arm they went. Ah if they had but paused in time ! CHAPTER 11. Somehow, in spite of his protestations that he “ never took anything after tea,” the two friends very soon found them selves in the private bar of the Waipotato Hotel, and under the influence of a couple of whiskies, Mr D. began to expand, and to become communicative. “ After all, you know, Saddripp, said he, depositing his gl.tss on the bar counter, “after all, I think you bachelors are better off than we benedicks—that is, when there are two of them, yon know.” “ Good gracious, man, you talk like a Mormon,” said Mr Saddripp, pausing in the act of lighting a cigar to gaze in astonishment at his friend, “ Why, you can’t be married to two women at the same time ? ”

“ That’s all you know about it,” replied Dormouse. “ You wait and see, my boy. Did you ever hear of mothers-in-law ? ” “Poof!” ejaculated Mr Saddripp pro ccerling with the lighting of his cigar, with as much indifference as if he had a houseful of mothers-in-law at home of his own.

“ Ah, it’s all very fine to say ‘ poof,’ ” said Mr Dormouse, with a bitter smile, “ but you don’t know Mrs Nagger. That woman, sir,” dropping his voice to a confidential whisper, “ would would make a missionary forget himself. Sad ripp,” solemnly, “ take the advice of one who knows, and never get married ; but if you must go and do it, never allow your wife’s mother in the house on any pre tence whatever. Don’t do it. Don’t be deceived if she says she is coming for a week. Mrs Nagger said she was coming for a week-—that was in June, and it’s February now—think of that. And it’s my firm conviction that she never means to go away. Before I was a married man I used to think that mothers-in-law were libelled, and shamefully abused, but,” with a sigh, “ I know better now. ” “ Surely you are master in your own house,” said Mr S. “ ’Nglishman’s housesis castle, isn’t it?” enquired Mr D., as he once more emptied his glass, and folded his arms solemnly, “ very well; that’s-allright—except when he’s got a mother-in-law, and then it’s her castle, he !he! he ! D’ye see ? But let’s have ’nother liquor—we’re going to make a night of it; eh ? ” Saddripp laughed. The other liquor was called, and the two gentlemen ad journed to the billiard room.

CHAPTER 111.

The clocks chimed the hour of midnight. Most of the inhabitants of Waipotato were in their beds and sound asleep. Mrs Dormouse had returned home with her mother at nine o’clock, and was amazed to hear from Mary Ann that Mr D. had gone out with a strange gentleman half an hour before, and left word that he would not be long. Mrs D. rmouse said little. Mrs Nagger, on the other hand, said a'good deal. She really thought that if. Septimus wanted to go out he might have walked as far as the Sewing Club with them, and seen them home again. But then, men f ■rget these little attentions after marriage. At ten o’clock she wondered wiuu-o that. man could be. At eleven o’clock insisted on Mrs Dormouse-retirnig to bed, and would take no denial. Thera was no reason why they should Imth suffer in health through the dissipated conduct of “that man.” At half past eleven Mrs Nagger, “ nursing her wrath, to keep it warm,” complained bitterly to herself of Septimus’ selfishness in depriving her of her night’s rest. The servant girl, who was sharing her vigil with her, suggested that “ master could let himself in at the hack door,” which he certainly could have done, and got severely snubbed for her pains, Then Mrs Nagger amused himself by thinking of all the disagreeable things which it would be her “ duty ” to say to the culprit when he did arrive. At ten minutes to twelve she gently closed her eyes, and in another minute was snoring tho snore of the just. She dreamt that Septimus had returned, and was-suing for pardon at her feet. Sud denly she awoke with a start—awoke to find a figure standing opposite to her, regarding her with a stouey and rather meaningless stare. The figure was that of a rather small man, with a very red face, dishevelled hair, crossed arms and a hat stock at the back of his head. Mrs Nagger sat bolt upright in her chair, and gave a little scream. Presently the figure opened its lips and remarked, “ 'sallright 1 ” Then Mrs Nagger recovered her speech and her presence of mind at once, and ex claimed in accents that would have frozen Mr D. ’s blood at any other time— “ Septimus ! ”

Mr "H"rmonse, for if was indeed that u I d man, smiled feebly, snapped his Ungers, and very nearly sat down on the coal-scuttle in his efforts to appear easy aiVd unconstrained. “ S6ptMiis ! p ’ exclaimed Mrs Nagger,

in a still higher key, “ Why, your’e— your’e tipsy, sir ! ” “ Have (hie) have some bran’yansoda,” said Mr Dormouse, with an idiotic smile. “ Leave the house, sir, this moment, and do not dare to return until you are sober, continued the lady, majestically, pointing to the door. “ Not at all,” said Mr Dormouse, sit ting on the open pianoforte, and attempt-, ing to whistle some “ Pinafore ” music. “ Out of the house I go to-morrow,” exclaimed the excited and indignant Mrs Nagger, in the air of one who was holding out one of the most terrible threats imaginable. “ ’Nd a jolly good riddance too !” said the heartless and intoxicated Dormouse ; only I know very well you won’t go—lay you five to two you’ll think better -of it in the morning. ” ! . Mrs Nagger swept majestically from the room.

How Mr Dormouse got through the remainder of the night, and how he con trived to make peace with his better half, is more easily imagined than described, as our friend the novelist would put it. But Mrs Nagger really did go away, and she hasn’t been near the house since. Mr Dormouse has not again forgotten him self. Since the departure of his mother in-law he has been an altered man, but, seeing the up-shot, he says he does not regret, “ Making a night of it.”

A TRAGEDY IN REAL LIFE.

* The Story of One Terrible Christinas.' [The following story the judges con sidered was deserving of honorable mention. The writer, a recent ar rival from England, represents that, it is the actual unvarnished narrative of his own sad experience. We can only say that any person who has passed through such an experience is deserving of the reader’s sincere commisseration.]

The season is now at hand in which that joyous festival comes off called “ Christmas,” ringing almost in every person’s ears in a civilised country, from a towerly lord down to the toil-worn rustic, with a sound of felicity, revelry, and luxury. The celebration of this Nativity brings forth to the memory of, many gay times and brilliant days, while to me it sheds a recollection of gloomy hours, disaster, and deadly losses, which are now the sole cause of my relating the following narrative. I was born in the year 1850, in a village called Sunny Grove, in the south of England, where I was brought up to manhood by godly parents, toge ther with two brothers and an affec tionate sister, 1 being the youngest of the four which once constituted the happy family, as the neighbors around; were wont to express. We held an extensive farm iri the aforesaid place, the proceeds of which . amounted to a pretty considerable suth, ' out of which we led a social and happy life. It was customary with the people of that place that those who were under good circumstances, and could "afford,, (o spend a little, would have a Christ-." mas party each year; so accordingly we entertained our party every Christy mas while "lining together, during my ; memory, being supposed to be the, most comfortable family, in the locality/ ' besides having a great desire to coiir; verse with our friends in our own habi tation about matters past and future. From the year 1850 to the year 1875 we lived happily together, never missing the opportunity J bf having all our favo-' rite guests at the Christinas dinner, and enjoy and pass the time away to t'he nj best advantage, in all the local gossip, music, dances, and songs, these sub-" " jects being our only discussion for fully f two months previous to the celebration , of the festival. '

During that long though short period ' of time, for it then appeared short to me, we lived more contented and una- - nimous together than 1 am at present ; able to describe, always entertaining a firm determination to be never severed J from one another, except by death,’’ alone, which we all well knew would : sooner or later be an inevitable de-

stroyer. . i There was no lack of anything at any Christmas that was necessary to make . tHe time enjoyable, and all the sur- ; rounding villagers appeared to gaze on • the white-washed cottage which be longed to the wfell-to-do family, as they used to say, who always entertained their party with palatable dinners and ’ teas. However, as the Christmas ' 'of the afore-mentioned year had drawn ' pretty nigh we resolved to be well pre pared, and as usual to get in a good - supply of the different eatables," and drinks of every description, with a hope of giving our party a satisfactory recep- : tion, and of enjoying rt ourselves to the''";: best advantage too. Accordingly, having issued the invitations to our select friends, with the desired effect • of their arrival at an earlier hour than the previous Christmas, for we were all ; 3 over-anxious for the table-talk, and the ’ • afternoon amusements, we flattered -.-i ourshlves with the idea of having a ' jollier time of it this Christmas than ; any of the by-gone ones, more espe- " dally as we were to be graced with the " ’ presence of two relatives who had been away somewhere during the six preced- C ing years. At length the wished-for day and appointed hour had come, iand the invited guests had assembled in < ; twos and threes, the arrival being much greeted by the whole family succes sively. All having complied with their promises, we collectively proposed that the inspiriting cup be served round, and a each to partake of their favorite ingre dient, cognac, wine, lemonade,: etc., as " they-. 1 preferred. > This course having J.; beenTchhipleted the tables were laid, ;; jE and Slifmer was ready in a few minutes, as