SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR.

BEFORE THE CAMP FIRE:

t Stoby op the Hew Zealand War.

i" r AITTBN FOB THE " STAR" StIfPiEMEKT BY A { ' "l" YOCJUO LaDV.] ?At the time the war with the natives broke out in 1845, I and another were engaged in gum digging a few miles from an English settlement on the eastern coast of the Northern Island of New Zealand. The settlement, one of the earliest founded in the history of the colony, ■was situated on the shoves of a magni ficent bay, surrounded by lofty hills, some covered with forests to their very summit, others smooth and grassy as a plain. The Inhabitants v/ere engaged in trade and agriculture, and the little village was rapidly growing into a flourishing town, with shops and hotels and comfortable, if not exactly elegant buildings, in short nothing but peace was wanted to ensure its growth and prosperity.

I and my companion had been sea men on board a merchantman trading between London and Sydney, but at the latter place we had deser-ted, and succeeded In making our escape to New Zealand. My companion was a French man, and like myself, had been re spectably born and tolerably well educated. He was short, fat, and puffy in appearance, and eccentric in his taste and manner, but the very embodiment of good nature, jollity and fun ; in fact, two more jolly chums never dwelt to gether in the glory of bachelorhood, and in the depths of a lone forests than my friend Henri Lamonte and myself Dick Thompson. Our jovial life had lasted for a few months when an outbreak among the natives threatened to put a stop to it for a time. A lai-ge body of Maoris under a celebrated chief was i-eportecl to be lying in ambush somewhere in the vicinity of the village, which was in imminent danger of being attacked ; and it became necessary for the safety of our lives to abandom our whare and small possessions,and take refuge in the village.

One night under cover of the dark ness, each aivned with a loaded gun and a bowie tnife stuck in our belts, we made the attempt to reach the village. The sky was starless and black with heavy clouds, the air in tensely still and oppresively close. Not a leaf or bird stirred as my compauion and I strode on through the forest ; only rthe cry of the morepork or the snapping of twigs beneath our feet broke the deathless silence. The distance was nearly accomplished, and we had neither seen nor heard anything to arouse our fears; another turn in the path would have brought us within sight of the lights in the village, when suddenly my com panion stopped and grasped my arm. " Hist," he whispered, " I hear a noise. It sounds much of talking." I listened intently; a low murmur of deep voices not far from us was dis tinctly atidible. We gazed round fear fully, suddenly my eyes detected a dim white cloud slowly ascending up wards, tinged with red, evidently the smoke of some fire. We came to a halt, and grasped our weapons tightly. " Look here, Henri," I said in a hoarse whisper, " there's an encamp ment of natives not far from us. We must beat a retreat."

Too late! Scarcely had the words left my lips ere two dusky forms sprang up from the fern and pushed upon us, I fired blindly at my antagonist, and a yell that almost froze my blood, he fell at my very feet; my friend had also fired, but without effect, and was now struggling in the grasp of apower fnl savage. The yell of my fallen foe had roused his comrades ; and before I could render him any assistance a body of natives came rushing through a nar row defile, with savage whoops and war cries, carrying lighted torches in their hands,, and in a moment we were sur rounded and taken prisoners. I ex pected to be instantly despatched, but a few words from one who appeared to be the chief,wewere tightly bound to a tree with strips of flax, while the natives held a consultation among themselves, and then, to our astonishment, they all disappeared by the same way they had come, taking no further notice of us. In a few minutes the glare of the torch light had vanished, and we were again left in utter darkness and profound stillness, . J( "Of this I see not the meaning, murmurmed Henri, « for vat are ye left here ; it is mischief they are about, I compi'ehend." "They will return, Henri," I said, " and then I expect we shall be put death without mercy, if only to avenge the death of their comrade."

Two hours or so, as well as we could judge, had passed, and there was no sign of the return of our captors. Sud dently the deep hush of fche night was broken by the discharge of musketry in the direction of the village, followed by muffled shrieks and cries, which were borne distinctly to our ears through the still air.

" Good God !" 1 ejaculated, "there is some dreadful scene going on there; the savages must be at attacking the village. When they have finished their bioody work there, they -will return and butcher us, doubtless." The rest of the night passed in aw ful suspend, and fear. We were stiff from our cramped position, and chilled to the bone with heavy dews; never surely was dawn so longed for, and

hailed so gladly. The sun rose at last, and shone cheerly over the silent hills and the tops of the stately forests ; but now the sky was illuminated by an omir.oas glave in the direction of the township, which told its own tale plainly enough, though the wild cries and screams we had heard during the night had long ceased.

Some hours had passed when the natives returned, laden with articles which had evidently heen plundered from the village, and bearing traces of a bloody fray upon their persons. "We were then unloosed, and set in the midst of a level space, when they per formed the war dance round us; this over we were offered some food, which appeared to be part of the plunder. We were then again bound to a tree, while the tribe squatted at a little distance, and were harangued by tall tatooed native of distinguished appearance, with a tuft of feathers in his hair, and sharks teeth dangling from his ears. I understood a little of the Maori lan guage, but could gather nothing from his speech, but that our fate was shortly to be decided by some one still higher in authority than himself. After it was over, the tribe was again set in motion, and we with our hands securely fastened behind us, were marched along by the side of our cap tors, closely -watched. The route taken was even wholly unknown to us, and the density of the trees prevented me from seeing anything of the surround ing country. After a march of several miles we came to a strongly fortified pa, situated on the the top of a slight elevation, from which a glimpse of the sea through the forests could be obtained. Outside the pa were groups of other natives engaged in cooking by several huge fires. Our captors were received with songs and shouts of welcome and re joicing, and much congratulation appeared to be passing on both sides. My 'companion and myself were then again secured to a tree near one of the entrances to the pa, and only a few feet from an enormous fire, round which several of the natives were cook ing, while others squatted at a little distance.

"We shall be killed and ate," mur mured my companion in a wailing tone. " I have much fear that ye are in tended to be 7-oasted at this very fire."

I bad fears of a similar nature myself, and watched the movements of the natives with intense anxiety. Theirhalf-nude, stalwart forms, tattooed savage faces, smeared with red ochre oil, and only the tufts of feathers in their hair, the shark's teeth in their ears, and the tomahawks swinging at their girdles, made tip a picture sufficiently calculated to strike terror into our hearts; bi.it as yet they appeared to ha.ye no hostile intentions towards us. When they sat down to their own meals we also were supplied with a basket of potatoes and some kind of flesh, and our hands unloosed. The potatoes we ate with a relish, but the other we left untouched, knowing that it was in all probability human flesh. At nightfall we were taken within the pa, which was divided into courts, and there guarded by two natives armed with guns and tomahawks. The other natives also retreated into the pa, and rolling themselves in their blankets, dropped down one by one upon the floor, and soon all was stillness and darkness, save for the gleam of the watch-fires without. My companion and I conversed in low whispers, trying to devise some means of escape, which, however, seemed wholly impossible. The two natives, squatting at our feet, were watching our every moment, and a single cry from them would have raised a hundred sleeping warriors round us. "We may have an opportunity for escape in the morning Henri," said I, " or maybe the pa will be attacked and captured by the troops; anyhow we'll have to wait till morning. "Of escape there vill be no vay •" moaned the little Frenchman. "Ye shall be kept and fatted and ate. To-morrow you vill see."

"They will not need to keep you long, Henri," suggested I; " you are in pretty good condition already." " Oh, mon Dieu, mon Dieu," gasped Henri ; " vat you say is true. lam too much fat, it is too true," oh for vhy did I come to this heathen country to be cooked and eat in this vay ! Oh, that is horrible ! helas.

Neither of us slept a wink the whole of that long night. Morning broke at last calm and sunny. We were left alone within the pa, securely bound, while the others went outside. Food was brought to us again as before, and in such large quantities that my friends apprehensions of being fatted for eating were uncomfortably heightened. Some hours after this we were marched to the outside of the pa, and then at the command of a' ferocious looking chief, denuded of our entire clothing, and placed opposite each other at either side of a fierce fire, while the whole tribe gathered round. Their intentions were only too soon evident. Our feet were tied together, and our hands fastened behind our backs ; then fresh fuel was piled upon the fire, while the natives leaped and danced and shouted round

us in expectant glee. The woe-begone countenance of my friend as he contemplated these pre parations would have tickled my fancy if I had not; been so seriously involved jn the same danger,

"Was ever anything so horrible," wailed he, "Ye are going to be roast alive. He bon Dieu help us; this is vorse than to be eat."

The flames leaped fiercely up, and the heat grew momently more in tense. The perspiratio n streamed out at every pore, our skin grew red and blistered, the very hair upon our heads seemed to shrivel and creep. In vain we strove to wriggle ourselves away from the blazing heap, while the exul tation of our tormentors rose to its height. But just as human endurance had reached its limits, we found our selves released, and dragged beyond the influence of tbe fire. Our clothing was then handed to us. and to our astonish tnent the gruff voice of the chieftain told us we were free, and bade us de part at once. We lost no time in obeying his command, and plunged in to the forest at once, not waiting even to adjust our garments upon our smart ing bodies. Our delight at our unex pected release was boundless, and my little friend in particular laughed and chattered as surely as only a Frenchman can; but we seemed only to have es caped one danger to fall into another. We lost our way in the forest, night overtook us, and we were obliged to camp out," tired and hungry, and afraid to light a fire for fear of being again captured. The next day we came across a creek, and by following its course at length reached the sea. We kept along the shore in a southward direc tion resolving to try and reach the capital. For clays and days we wandered on, suffering untold hardships submitting on fern-roots, shell fish and berries, and in constant fear and peril of being seeu and killed by hostile natives, but at length we reached the town, two gaunt and haggard beings, more like spectres than living men. There we heard that the little village had been plundered and burnt by the Maoris, and several of the troops killed, but that the inhabitants had succeeded in escaping to the man-of-war laying in the bay, which had brought them on to town, and then returned with a rein forcement of soldiers. Tiie Avar was brought to a termination soon after, but neither Henri nor I went back to our former location, though settlers flocked again to the ruined village, which rapidly regained something of its former prosperity. My friend went back to his own country, and I entered her Majesty's navy. 1 have had many adventures since then by flood and field, and many narrow escapes of my life, but never one that surpassed in horror the night I spent in the native pa, nor the roasting I experienced before the samp fire.

LOST IN THE CATACOMBS.

TERRIBLE EXPERIENCE OF AN AMERICAN —TWENTY HOUES IN THE DARKNESS UNDER PARIS. A correspondent of the Cleveland " Leader" visited the catacombs of Paris recently, fell behind his compan ions, was lost, and spent twenty hours in the dreadful place. He gives the following descriptions of his dreadful experience : The stairway, on which we were descending, was winding and darcp, and at each step the air grew colder and the gloom more impenetra ble ; and the lights flared and flamed upward, as if striving to escape from the awful darkness that their rays so poorly dispelled. Once at the bottom, a shudder shook my frame as darkness closed in about us, and the damp wind rushing past, tugged at my garments as if, fearing for my welfare, it were persuading me to return to the life and suushine of the upper world. Our course lay to the right, for we were to make our exit by stairway leading out on to the Rue Dareau. Our party strung out behind the guide, and with their lights borne aloft, looked like a glittering monster creeping among the caverns and under the arches. At first there was a forced gaiety, but the laughter rung out upon the terrible silence and echoed and jumped from crevice to cavern, until it sounded like a wail of the dead, or the mirth of fiends, and the gaiety that had entered with us soon died out, and we were as sombre as the place, and as sober as those who follow the dead in silence. An occasional pause ensued to afford opportunity to inspect the inscriptions on the walls, or to examine the sur roundings. Entering a narrow passage, some rude tracings on the rock attrac ted my attention, and I lingered to examine them. It seemed to me but a moment that I tarried, and when I sought the party with an eager search of the gloom, their lights had disappeared. I was not alarmed, for I knew they could not be far off. I hastened in the direction to which I saw them last, following with hasty step, but I failed to discover them. Now it began to occur to me that I was lost, and I cried with lusty voice and long, but it came back to me in a thousand airs and echoes as if I had been answered by the skulls that were so numerous not far off. My apprehension gave double vigor to my limbs, and I dashed onward with a despairing energy, not knowing whither I ran, but running because I found j comfort in action. At every turn I peered with hungry eyes into the pitchy darkness of the passages, vainly striving to discern the presence of some living soul beside myself, but I saw nothing. Again I cried out until it seemed my very lungs must burst with the effort, and again and again, and all

the answer that came was tlie shrieking of a million echoes that were fall of horror and sepulchral, groanings. The ; li^ht burned low and added not a little j to my anxiety, as it must soon burn ' out and leave me in utter darkness. j Again I hurried on, and after twisting every way, I entered a widej1 passage ' than I had yet passed through, when, I horror of horrors! I stood face to face ] with grinning skulls, whose empty \ sockets gazed at me from rows of bones that ranged above my head. Never had I see^i such a terrible spectacle. All terrors I had experienced in my life ! combined could not equal the agony of thatone moment. Alone with three millions of dead ! The awful reality of my situation came upon me with a ! rush, bearing with it the agonizing possibilities of death, and the suffering , that would ensue in such ?. place. My : heart stood still, the cold sweat oozed [ from my pores in great drops, the clammy wind fanned me in sullen j gusts, as if the black wing of death had brushed my brow. The silence was oppressive, the darkness a weight. But in a moment I recovered myself and hurried forward while the bones and the skulls seemed to clutch and mock at mo as as I passed, as if they envied me the life 1 had. On, on, I went, but there seemed no end, and suddenly the light flared up, trembled and flrshed out, and darkness settled over me like a pall. 1 stood awhile in amazement lost in a dull stupor. I was bewildered and could scarcely think. The sudden transition from life, with all its possi bilities and hopes, to another region, that was not of life or death, but led down to the latter, with no opening to the former, was so quick and unlooked for that the change robbed me of my thought and feeling, and I groped in mental blindness. By degrees my mind struggled into its normal condi tion, and I began to weigh the chances of life and death, and calculated them as coolly as the interest oil an invest ment. Eora while I wandered in the darkness until tired nature could no more, and shrank away into a passage, leading from the horrible array of bones, and sank down beside a pillar to a troubled rest axed dreams. My life was traced, step by step, along the line of years that seemed so long in living and so short when looked at; now a day all sunshine, and another all cloud : now wandering through flowery meads, now struggling up a rugged path until the present was reached and I seemed to stand upon an eminence, and, bidding adieu to all behind, I struck out on a narrow foot-bridge that led over an un fatomablo chasm and whose farther end was lost in darkness. When I had walked far out the bridge melted away, and I felt myself falling, falling like a star through a space that had no limit, and around me on every side were a thousand gibbering, laughing fiends, who were wild with glee over my presence. At length I alighted gently on ? solid surface, and was instantly surrounded by millions of skeletons, who danced and grimaced about me in a pale, phos phorescent light that made the dark ness beyond them blacker. The air was uproarious with the rattling of bones, but I pushed away amidst the ghastly mob and hurried forward to wards a luminous light in the distance. As I approached it it gL-ew brighteiymd my ghostly attendants fell behind. At length I stood before a gigantic gate whose top was lost in the gloom above, and which was as immovable as a moun tain. Before it stood two beings unlike any that I had ever seen. One was clad in shining garments, and a bright star sparkled on its forehead, and its countenance was beaming with hope, and peace, and joy. The other was clad in a robe of deepest black, npon the front of which was worked in white skull and bones. Its face was sad and cold, and its eyes were dull and lifeless. They conversed together long and earnestly, and I was able to glean from their conversation that I was in the realms of Death, and Life had come to claim me, and Death was loth to give me up. At length Life unrolled a long chart, and pointed to Death that I had not yet lived my destiny and must be permitted to go forth and complete it. Death ceased his objections and the great gate swung with a terrible squeaking of its rusty hinges, and O what a glorous view opened before me] Then the busy world was mapped out in plains, moun tains, rivers, cities, and people engaged in every occupation, and Life pointed the way and I rushed into existence once more. At last I awoke full of hope, but it was brief, for I soon com prehended my situation, and gloom and melancholy settled over me. I tried to accept the gloom as a good omen, and cheer myself with the consolation that its realization was not far off. I could hear the carriages rattling in the streets overhead, and I knew another day had dawned on earth. As near as I could make out by running my fingers over the face of my watch, it was about nine o'clock, and I had spent twenty hours in the catacombs. I began to feel the pangs of thirst and hunger and settled down into a state of dejection. Hark ! I hear voices ! No, I must have been mistaken. But listen, there comes a faint sound float ing on the heavy air, as if it had been wafted to my ears from miles away. The blood ran wildly to my heart. In an instant hope was alive and strong! I called out with a shout that made the caverns tremble! The echoes come and go, growing fainter and

fainter, and then die out. What an agony of suspense was crowded into ■ one brief second, as I strained every | muscle and movement into silence to ! catch the response! It came, and my [ heart leaped for joy. In another mo ment came the glimmer of lights, and ' another and I was safe among the ! living. Then came explanations as we hurried towards the entrance, for I I had my till of the Paris catacombs. My friends had not missed me until after they had left the catacombs, but felt no apprehension then, as it had often ! been my custom in moments of caprice to leave them without a word of notice, and they gave themselves no uneasiness. . But as the night wore away, and I did ! appear at the hotel, the suspicion began to grow lip them that I had gone , astray in the catacomb. At early dawn 1 they revealed their fears to the officials, ! secured passes and guides, and set out 'in search of me, with what rasults you 1 know. In a few moments I was once more breathing the pure, sweet, deli cions air of life. It was Monday. To the l-ight towered the majestic dome of the Pantheon, and thither I was tempted to hasten and sing, " Praise God from whom all blessings flow," until the arches and vaults rang with the joy of my gratitude. But I didn't; I went and got something to eat. i . ,

MR. O'HOOLAHAN'S MISTAKE.

A VIRGINIA CITY HO3IANCE,

An amusing scene occurred in Justice Young's Court-room, Virginia, an evening or two since. Two sons of the "ould sod," full of ''chain lightning" and law, rushed in, and advancing to the Justice's little law pulpit at the rear of the Court-room, both began talking at once.

"One at a time, if you please," said the Judge. "Jedge —yer Honor —will I shpake, thin 1 said one of the men.

"Silence !" roared his companion. "I am hove ! Let me talk. Phwat do you know about law ?"

"Keep still yourself, sir," said the Judo-e. "Let him say what he wants." "Well, I want me naime of the paiper. That's phwat I want," said the man.

" Off what paper," said the Judge. " Well, atf the paiper ; ye ought_to know what paiper. Shure, ye married me, they say." " To whom?" asked the Judge.

" Some famale, sir, and I don't want her, sir. It don't go ! and I want me naime aff tlie paiper." " Silence !" roared fclie friend, bring ing his huge fist down upon the little law pulpit, just under the Judge's nose, with a tremendous thwack. " Silence ! lam here. Phwat do you know about law ? Shure, yer Honor; it was Tim McCloskey's wife that he married—his widdy I main. You married thim, yer Honor."

" And I was dhrunk at the time, sir. Vis, sir, an' I was not a free aigent, an' I don't know a tliingabout it, Sir divil roawst me! I want me name aff the paiper—l repudiate, sir." " Silence ! I am here to shpake ! It does not depind on that at all. It depinds—and there is the whole pint, both in law and equity—it depinds whether was the woman a sole thrader or not at the time this marriage was solemnated. That is the pint, both in law and equity !" " But I was dhrunk at the time, Devil roawst me if I knowed I was gittin married. I was not a free aigent. I want the Jedge to taik me naime off the paipei*. It don't go." The Judge tried to explain to the man that, drunk or sober, he was married to the woman fast enough, and if he wanted a divorce he must go to another Court. " Devil burn me 1" cried the man, " if Tgo to another Coort. Ye married me, and ye can unmarry me. Tak me naime aff the paiper 1" " Silence!" cried the friend, bringing his fist down in close proximity to the Judge's nose. " Phwat do you know about law? I admit, Jedge, that he must go to a higher Coort; that is (down comes the fist), if the woman can prove (whack) that she was at the time the marriage was solemnated (whack) a regularly ordained sole thrader (whack) On this" pint it depinds, both in law and equity." " I have had enough of this ! cried the Judge; " I cannot divorce you. You are married, and married you must remain, for all I can do !" "Ye wont taik me naime aff the paiper thin T " It would not mend the matter," said the Judge. « Ye won't taik it aff V

" No; I won't!" fairly yelledthe Judge. " Silence!" cried the partner, bringing down his fist and raising a cloud of dust under the Judge's nose. "It depinds whether, at the time, the woman was a rigular sole—" " Get out of here", cried the Judge, I've had about enough of this !" at the same time rising. "Ye wont taik it aff ] Very well, thin, I'll go hoam and devorce meself. Devil roawst me, I'll fire the hatch ; I will—"

Here he glanced towards the front door; his under jaw dropped, he ceased speak ing, and in a half-stooping posture he went out of the back door of the office like a shot.

The valiant friend and legal adviser also glared toward the door, vrhen he, too, doubled up and scooted in the foot- s teps of his illustrious principal.

A look at the door shewed it darkened by a woman about six feet high, and so broad as to fill it almost from side to side.

The Judge took a look at this moun tain of flesh, doubled up, and was about to take the back track, but thought better of it and took refuge behind his little law pulpit. The mountain advanced, gave utter ance to a sort of internal rumble, and thoD, amid fire, smoke and burning lava, belched out : " Did I or did X not see Michael O'Hoolahan sneak out of your back dure f " I believe O'Hoolahan is the name of one of the gentlemen who just went out," said the Judge. Advancing upon the pulpit —behind which the Judge settled lower and lower —the mountain belched : " You be-e lave! You know it was Michael O'Hoola . han 1 Now, what is all this connivin' in ! here about ? Am I widely again 1 Did ye taik his name affthe paiper ? Did ye taik it afff " N-no," said the Judge. "Ye didn't ? Dont you decave me 1" " No ; I give you my word and honor I didn't. I couldn't—l had no right to."

" it's well for ye ye did'nt, T'll tache him to be runnin' about connivin' to lave me a lone widely agin/ whin I'm makin' a jintleman of him !" With this she sailed back to the door where she turned and shaking her fist, thus addressed the tip of the Judge's nose, which alone way visible above the little pulpit: Now. do you mind that you lave his name on the paper ! I want no meddlin' wid a nutn wanst I git him. No more connivin'!"

SLEPT WITH HIS SPURS ON.

" Yes," said the old man, with a smile, " I remember one time in particular, while out prospecting with an old friend, about twenty years ago. We were traveling on horseback, and came across a tavern one night about ten o'clock. Being very cold and hungry, as soon as we got some supper and something warm to keep the cold out, we asked to be shown to our room. On looking around we found the room had two beds in it, one of, which was already occupied by two strangers, who were both snoring lustily. The fact of there being two beds in the room did not sui^prise us, as in backwood taverns there were frequently three beds in a room. We undressed, and just as I was going to blow out the light, my friend, who had got into bed, espied the foot of one of the strangers sticking through the bed clothes at the foot of the bed. With a suppressed chuckle he motioned me to hold on a moment; he got quietly out of bed and going to where the strangers' boots were he took off a huge, sharp, Mexican spur, and carefully adjusted it to the bare heel of the unconscious stranger. With another audible chuckle as he thought of the consequences that would follow when the stranger drew in his foot, he got back into bed, and I blew out the light and followed him. He soon managed to get a long straw from the bed and reached over and tickled the stranger's foot. He instantly drew his legs up until his knees almost touched his chin. In doing this he drew the spur the whole length of his bed-fellow's leg, making a bad scratch. The victim uttered a yell and sprang out of the bed with a muttered exclamation that I did not make out, and then he commenced a wild dance around the room, with his nether garment under his arm, and making frantic efforts either to dislocate his neck or to see Kow badly he was hurt, all the while making exclama tions that would have made a baggage man with a Saratoga trunk on his shoulder turn green with envy. The innocent cause of the trouble had been awakened at the first yell of the victim, and, in straightening his legs out scratched himself most unmercifully. He did not yell or say bad words, but he jumped out of bed and made for his friend with the purpose of taking vengeance, I supposed; but he had not taken two steps before he dabbed the spur into his leg again. The landlord then appeared with a light, followed by half the borders in the house, and in quired what the matter was. An ex amination brought to light the spur, which explained the matter. The stranger looked sheepishly at the spur, then at his scratch, and finally examined his boots, and with a sickly smile, said : " Well, boys, I have lived all my life among people who wear spurs, but I never saw a man who could pull off his boots and leave his spur on his foot. I'll treat in the morning."

THE SCIENTIST AND HIS CHILD.

" Father, thou art a scientist, Therefore dost all things know." " My child, if you've a dollar left, You go and bet 'tis so." " Father, is there an ether Through which the worlds all whiz 2" 11 Opinions vary, good, my child : I think perhaps there is." " And, father, are there folks who dwell In yon bright twinkling star ?" " Proctor thinks so, my deareßt boy, And—well, perhaps there are." *• And, father, that there comet there— You know what 'tis, I bope ?"— " I guess 'tis carbon, boy; so says Your daddy's spectroscope." " And, father, while I think of it, How do you know you know ?" " Knowledge is relative, my child— I only think'tia bo."

"You think you knowyou know you think; Fray how can such things be?" " My child, thus certainly you find Acres! your parent's knee,"

THE STORY OF A FLOWER.

By John Blackmaw.

On leaving dear old England for these warm New Zealand shores, Her meadows groen and forasta wide, her rivers and her moors ;.. ■ .",£ y I passed one day with nature in the nappy summer time, , . And heard the simple story which I ye turned into a rhyme. I saw a fine old mansion in the moonlight, dim and pale, Among the elms that cast their twilight shadows clown the vale ; And there I heard the story of a rare and lovely ilower, . Which lovers tell beneath those elms in love s ambrosial bower. Once in that spacious mansion lived a man of wealth and pride, Whose heart had" ne'er been softened in afflic tions surging tide ; Whose golden means were ample, yet whose spirit yearned for more, Whilst round his thousand acres pined the many who were poor. His pleasant mansion, all alone, mid oaks and linden trees, All seeoaed to hint of riches, beauty, splen dour, health and ease ; Whilst scenes around, all smiling, mossy lane and sylvan grove, Might well hare pleased a Gainsborough and won a Cowper's love. There sweetbriar grew in sweetness o'er the nigh!inhale's retreat, And o'er the lawn bloomed daisies white, whose very name is sweet, And roses decked the hedges by the silent village way ; Where Robin Bed-breast perched and san g his pretty evening lay. The owner of that mansion sought no lonely widow's cot; He fed his dogs, but never chesred the orphan's hapless lot. And when he died, and his remains passed from his oaken door, None praised his deeds—all looked unmoved, as though he had been poor. The autumn ere he died led on to winter cold and drear, And leaves by winds were blown along the pathway of the year ; Yet summer blessed the mansion, no dark sorrow entered there : At least not those of wiuter which the lowly have to bear. The fields were blank and cheerless, and tbe ) snow lay on the hills, The snowdrops opened early, and bright flowers with golden frills ; When the earl put forth his mandate from his crimson couch of rest, That none should take a cutting from the plant which he possessed. Now comes the true love story which I gathered in the vale, Which forms the love-fraught burden of my unpretending tale. The gardener loved a maiden — loved a modest cottage girl, — And love will not be fettered by the mandate of an earl. Fair Jenny, with her parents, lived anear the village mill, Hard by a row of poplars, by a clear and Bhinlng rill, Where cresses grew 'neath bushes, and where linnets oft would sing Among the white thorn blossoms 'mid the melodies of spring. Young Jenny was not proud like soma young ladies that I know, Who miss the path of duty for the outer path of show? And oft the honest gardener crossed the meadow and the mere To pass cne,hour with Jenny, whom he loved so very dear. One evening in the twilight, ere the night begaa t» lowar, Blithe Eobia stole a twiglet from the plant withia kis power, And from fhe green-house passed along beneath the lilac boughs Towards -the lane's green turning, where the lovers breathed their vows. I've called the gardener honest, but to steal that sprig was wrong, As all will oewn who listen to this history in song; But Robin, like most lovers, thought in love's enchanting heur The heart may breathe of secrets even through a purloined flower. "Ah, Jenny, love," sighed JRobin, "I have brought my love a prize : IVa stolen ifc from the greenhouse," and he looked Into her eyes ; " And I would have you cherish it, and may its future prove How true to Jenny is my heart—how faith ful Robin's love 1" She placed it near the window, but a month had scarcely fled Ere something strangely whispered, See, thy stolen flower is dead. Waste no time in idle watching, oft the heart itself deceives, And love may change and wear the hue of sere and yellow leaves. Poor Jenny's heart then quickly throbbed with fancies none may know, And little shadows came and went, as shadows come and go. " Is Robin's flowret dead," she sighed, "and will his love, too, die ?" Such doubts would often come to her, and yet she knew not why. Weekq passed, and sweetly blushed the flower, by Nature's hand imbued, With deepening tints, 'mid circling leaves, which darkling doubts subdued. The earl's flower died and withered, while the maiden's, strong and hale, Lives and blooms in many a garden in that peaceful English vale 1

I WISH I WERE A COMET.

I wish I were a comet, And sportin' through the sky Oh ! shades of old Mahommet, I'd make the splinters fly ! There'd be a reck of matter, A crash of worlds, you bet, I'd all the planets batter, And everything upset. I'd butt against old Bruin, And tease the Little Cub, The Polar Star I'd ruin, A*d give the Moon a rub. The Dog Star then I'd collar, And if unmuzzled found, To make my half a dollar, I'd drag him to the pound. I'd make things spin about, Oh ! Jupiter and Mars, Tarn the Dipper wrong Bide out* And drown the little stars. I'd give the earth a tuasel, Amd switch it off its axis, I'd travel on my muscle, And equalize the taxes.



Awkward—" O, Edith, woitf&you kiss Dr.ll'Cluskier "I'm sd= shy, mamm|,4 You kiss him firsti"