SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR.

HOW A TAILORS BILL WAS SETTLED.

«TSE feet is, "Gw* said my tod Underwater, in reply _ to- some confi dental bewailing, oir my.part, "yon re Defecting to invest a splendid capita.! ■If I had a presence like yours 1 a take advantage of it to do away wife the want of money at once and for ever. I'd "many" money, and enough of it io make the future, plain sailing. Do you suppose nature gave you these advantages tdlet them rust in idleness? bon't hide your gifts in a napkin, niy boy; strike while tie- iron's,hot—-in ofchV- words, marry money while you're, you find handsome and attractive !" T .shed with some kind of a feel ini a mixture of offended pride and abashed consciousness that a sneaking idea of this kind had already entered my head, of a desire to take advantage of ifc, and an ignorance how to go about it.

But Van helped me out. "There's my cousin Gertrude," lie said'; " she isn't a bad-looking woman. She's high bred, you know, and all that sort"of thing —high-nosed, too, for that matter, but not a bad-looking woman. Nothing will do for her but a tip-top appearance, majesty of form, grace of of demeanor, plenty of style, some time with the outside gilding and marry some of these chaps always prowling around women with money." I looked at Van and burst out laughing. "Well, but your'e a gentleman, Fithian. Hang it! if a man's a gentle man he can afford to do anything. I happen to know she looks upon you vuth decided favor, and I don't mind confessing I'd like the arrangement myself. You see, it's a great deal for me to feel that I can trust Gertrude's happiness in your hands." I knew what Van meant. He was ■working hard for a perennial fountain as a resource on desperate occasions. But the best advice isn't always free from selfishness; perhaps a goodly quantity of this modicum lends strength and flavor to the persuasion, as it

certainly involves earnestness and sin cerity.

Long after he went away that night I thought of the project, and by dint of severe necessity and weighty prejudices persuaded myself that the sweet out .flavored the the bitter; and perhaps it was the best, if not the only way out of my present difficulties. Eesolving upon immediate action, I went to work on the following morn ing with an ardor worthy of a better cause. My first visit, of course, was to my tailor. I was indebted to the worthy tradesman for the biggest part of the Krace and elegance so pathetically re ferred to by "Vanderwater, and was perfectly well aware that, without his aid and art, the fine castles reared during the preceeding night would tumble about my ears. I already owed him a lai'ge sum of money, the keiy immensity of which gave me 'courage to ask for more. If he had jbeen. induced, I argued, to advance so 'flinch capital with scai'cely a chance for 'interest alone, how much easier it be to secure more when I was ihlly determined upon improving the ■lucky elements which nature and him-' self had thrown in my way ? I I found him in rather a gloomy

Ipmor, and his remarks were very

ippressmg. I " The fact is," he said, " I'm tired of it. There's got to be a stop somewhere, llr Fithian. Me and my family is touring to ruin if this goes on much jonger. It's riot at home and riot ibroad, and flesh and blood can't stand it We've got to take a back seat, me pel my family, while folks that we jress from the skin out look down on h and shove us further to the wall. If

hey see us at the opera or at church hey're blinder nor bats, and walk right iver us. But, Lord ! Lord ! how clever by are when they some to to the pore !"

"I gathered from these remarks that iy worthy patron had ventured into wiety lately, and had naturally come to Fief."

"When you get tired of beating bout the bush, Bigby," I said, " I'll egladtoknow what's amiss. If it's lie old thing about the money, I can't elp you, though I have a capital bance of getting out of trouble if you'll old on a while; bnt if it's anything Ise, I'll do my best to explain it." i"lt's that there charity concert, Sen," he said, indignantly. Me and iy wife and daughter we went there ie other night, and Hattie she was monstrous taken with a young gentle an. a few seats ahead of us. I don't

toy he always does honor to the he wears, and never did I see a ter fit than that there purple black of tors • but, Lord, I couldn't catch his fe, though I told Hattie I knew him eH He looked everywhere, from the age to the moon, but I couldn't catch 3 eye. It's a small matter to be civil, it's cheap and wholesome —it a done a bit o' harm to have Ve Ha friendly nod or so, and it'd a Hattie most wonderful."

"Why, heavens and earth, Bigby !" " I declare to you I didn't ] you, upon my honour ! I never aght a glimpse of you—l'd have to recognize you,, of course !" ." Fjs^wqj ds don't .butter no par- W*said thesulky"merchant. "I f* care a button for it myself, but it a wen a feather in Hattie's cap !"

'-Wcl, come now. Bigby," I con- WAfc.,^ % omewhat touc hed by this p at e r nal affection, " the next time you go out, letme know, and I'll be on the ??« yiwe. I declare I'll do the fair thing oyyou and your family-but to the business in hand." Til6n I.plun^ Tf alf r ious account of a project I had for helping both him arid myself, referred largely to my exalted family, and the immense influence my position in society lent to our scheme. I soon succeeded in winning him over to an' unlimited credit for knightly armour m the coming contest. "I don't deny," said the large-hearted knight of the shears, "I'm proud of you, There ain't a thing you put on but gains by it somehow or other. 1 made a bit o' that there French gray for Moffat, and he just degrades it; that's what he does ! There ain't no more style about him than there is an elephant ; but I'll wager anything you'll look like a prince in it, and we'll just try it, that's what we'll do !"

Bigby grew happy, almost exultant, while he was measuring me. " What is it," he said. " to have such a Agger as your's! Never an inch change, more or less—it might be set up for a model." c) hese preliminaries arranged, it was comparatively easy to go on. I had convenient access to the circle which Miss Vandewater adorned, and was al ways heartily welcomed by its seclusive and somewhat unattractive adherents. I became sorely surfeited by high teas, high churches, high noses, and high prices. Afttr enduring this altitude for a considerable length of time, I suf fered as all travellers do when they get out of their natural orbit—l found it hard to draw breath, and became dizzy and decidedly exhausted. I began to long for a change ; I yearned for an op portunity of having these dry and arid Lights for the Arcadian simplicity of the green and fertile valley. This opportu nity presented itself at the hands of my worthy patron, Bigby, He became terrified to find that I was fast losing flesh, and looked with vivid apprehen sion to the imminent danger of a neces sity for padding.

"Once commencing that, Mr Fithian, and the Lord knows where it'll stop.

There's thorn that wears bales of it, and it must be most awful in the hot weather. Then you see, again, it plays the very deuce with light materials. It won't do, Mr Fithian; you'll have to tone up." " But how to do it, Bigby, that's the question. I'm afraid I'm booked ' for a declivity." " Not a bit of it. Just you try something. See here ! would you mind doing me a favour ? It's a big thing to ask of you, Mv Fithian. I know it's a little gut of your line, but you'll oblige me." •' If it's anything that lies in my power," I replied, warmly, " I'll be glad to do it, Heaven know's you've been generous enough with me." •' Well, it's just to run out some evening to my place to dinner. I've got a light rwine there that's the best tonic in the world. You might see how you liked it, and if you could stand it I'd send you a dozen bottles or so Will you come, Mr Fithian 1 I'll take it kindly if you would." " Why, of course I will, Bigby, and right gladly, too, I assure you. When shall it be T " Any time ; the sooner the better. The train leaves at 5." I heaved a long sigh. I was sorely tempted to close in with the offer in spite of an engagement of an eleemosy nary character with Gertrude. But I declined. "No Bigby," I replied, faintly, \" not to-night, thank yon ; but to-morrrow I'll come out to your place, and we'll try that light wine of yours." I was glad afterwards I resisted the temptation, for there was a cold glitter

in Miss Vandewater's stony eyes and a compression about her thin lips that forbade trifling of any kind. aAn exalted and unselfiish cha racter, Augustus," said Miss Vande-

water —and you can see by her calling me by first "name how intimate we were —"has its first interest in benefiting the human race. To see these dear

young faces beaming with, delight, to behold these youthful forms clothed with comfort, and warmth, and be aware that my hand plied the needle in their behalf, is happiness enough for me." It was pleasant to hear that some body had enough of happiness, for I never saw a more miserable and de jected group than that composed of the children attached to the St. John's Mission and their patrons. I, myself, felt that I couldn't get lower in the scale of felicity, although a cadaverous

looking gentleman had for forty minutes by my watch held upon the awful miseries that awaited us all in eternity. When he had concluded, and Miss Vandewater's severe phseton drew up to the little iron door of the school, when we -were securely fastened in this grim and heavy vehicle and impelled slowly in the direction of a melancholy Lenten meal at the hovse of the heiress, I felt that my career was finished—that no light wine, how-

, ever brilliant its qualities, could save me from eternal padding and eternal ; woe. j Buffetting with a fierce and bitter J wind on my way home that night, reach ing my rooms no fire, and to find a vulgar perseverance on the part of my land lady for money, I plunged beneath the bedclothes with the firm conviction

that nothing, however terrible in the future, could equal the miseries of the present, and that the sooner life was over in this mundane sphere (as Gertrude was fond of calling it to me once jolly world) the better for Augustus Pithian, Esq. I concluded not to go out to Bigby's not to try any light wine, but to let a vile and vindictive fate do its worst in my behalf.

But I awoke to a bland Spring morning. April had stolen in upon March, and brought with her balmy air, skies, and the songs of a few dissipated bluebirds that had preferred the city to the suburbs. There was something exhilarating in this sudden warmth and brightness that melted the soul of my long-enduring and justly exasperated landlady. The muffins were actually hot, the coffee fragrant and mellow, the beefsteak rich and succulent. I carefully avoided Gert rude and the St. John's that day, nursed the faint ray of hope and joy that had sprung up in my despondent breast, and reached the five o'clock train, for Bigby's with something of my old appreciation of life.

Just as we were about starting, and I lingered on the platform to finish my cigar, I was positively startled by a vision of loveliness, in the shape of a school-girl, making frantic efforts to catch up her skirts and bundles and run for the train. She was within a few feet of me when the whistle sounded, and puff went the engine. A look of absolute despair shadowed all her young beauty. She stretched forth her hands with a gesture of entreaty, and her blue eyes filled with vexatious tears. I was immediately opposite her, and, flinging away my cigar, I held forth to her a helping hand. She leaped trust fully forward, was caught in my arms and landed safely on the platform.

" Now that you are safe," I said, " I am shocked as the risk you ran. Never do that again, I beg of you ; it might cost you your life."

"Oh, don't regret it," she said, " I am so glad. There is no train after this one till Lite at night, and papa would be so frightened."

As she spoke she looked up in my f ice with the most innocent smile in the world. I had procured her a seat near the cold, ray less stove ; and if the wea ther had been wintry, the warmth of that smile would have heated the stove, would have radiated the car. All heaven was in her eyes, they were so bright and blue ; there shone in them so much of feeling, of joy, of candor; a vivid color flamed in her cheeks, glowed in her lips, was like a scarlet cloak in a wintry landscape, and rested the eye that looked upon her. I made an effort to engage her in conversation, but in her slight and cold reply I saw an insurmountable ob jection to chance acquaintances. She spoke no more, nor smiled, save at some happy fancy of her own, but tapped nervously on the window-pane, and watched eagerly the vanishing landscape. As I looked at her I fancied what that .home must be to which her desires and fancies flew, and sighed to think how far above my reach were these domestic joys that clung to this fair young creature before me. " Ah," thought I, "if she were only Gertrude, how delightful would be the path through duty to pleasure." While all these thoughts ran rapidly through my head the train also hastened on, and presently stopped at the station which Bigby had told me was a short ride from his house.

To my immense delight the fair young stranger gathered up her bundle and went before me to the door. I leaped from the car, held out my hands to her, but she threw herself into a pair of sturdier hands than mine ; and looking in the face of this intruder, I found it the honest, beam ing face of Bigby himself, my magnani mous tailor!

He lifted her from the ground in his - close caress.; then looked over at me with the happiest, the fondest, the most exalted satisfaction I ever saw in any one in my life. * Oh, the delicious sensation of finding myself close by her side in the comfort able little carry all! The evening sky was rosy red, and the wayside hedges were budding afresh in the glad new Spring, multitudes of birds swung and swayed in the dry stems of the trees, and daisies, white and red, studded the wide green pastures. Whether it was really that light wine of Bigby's, the capital mechanism of Bigby's chef cle. cuisine, the com bination of happy faces and light hearts, a bunch of violets in a Venetian vase, the delicious coffee the comely Mrs Bigby dispensed after the meal— whether it was each or all of these the dinner was perfect. We spent the night in mild but paradisaical dissipa tion. We had a little music, some of Hattie's Italian, to please her mother, a few ballads for her father, and any thing and everything for me. Any thing short of a fugue of Chopin's or the severity of the old masters was a rest to my musical experience. Then I talked to Bigby, or rather he talked" me, of rural life and its surroundings—his lots and lands, shrubberies and young orchards; and I secretly grew glad to think that in some quarter, however promblematical it seemed to me, he must reap the honest reward of his labours. With a little more light wine, and lighter biscuits, made by the pudgy, dimpled hands of handsome Mrs* Bigby herself, the evening ended.

As I went down with my worthy host in the morning, I promised him I would visit him often.

A. tailor, and the daughter of a tailor. Yes, even so ; what mattered it 1 Sne might have been the offspring of a prince, and at all events it was the first oasis in my desert of life, and I needed to lie down in the shadow of a rock for rest.

So commenced for me a dual exist ence. I paired it off pretty equally— went out to Bigby's by clay, and to Gertrudes's by night. I began to look upon Hattie as my sister and Gertrude as my bethrothed, and made all my arrangements to suit these affinities. I admired Hattie, I confided in her, and informed her of the snares and deceits that lay in wait for her in that world upon the thres hold of which she stood wondering and charmed. Whereas with Ger trude I strove to infuse in my manner the tender solicitude that betokened the lover. I, perhaps, was not so success ful in this latter role as the former ; lot any one undertake this dual existence, and he'll find out how difficult it is to keep the two characters from infringing upon and mingling with each other.

The Rev Mr Cavendish was one of the agents the gods chose for my dis comforture. The man was detestable' to me. I abhored his long-drawn sighs and penitential sniffie ; the cut of his clerical coat was an abomination to me, and his neckcloth, never properly folded, jarred upon my sensitive taste. It had become a positive bore to find him so often with Gertrude, bending upon her a similar regard to that with which a wily boa-constrictor envelopes his prey. He had persuaded her that her knowledge of crayons would be of use in drawing the plans for the new chapel, and he remained many hours with her, their heads almost touching, their hands in close proximity over these wretched drawiugs. I decided when wo were married I would try to convince Gertrude that her forte lay not in architecture.

But I was not prepared to say that I cared to have the nuptials hastened ; in fact, the subject was very distasteful to me. Bigby had maintained a com mendable reticence with regard to my private affairs, and it was only in the bosom of his delightful family I could forget my cares ond the unhappy future in store for me. As Gertrude was de sirous to have the foundation for the new chapel laid before we were mar ried, and numerous parish duties weighed heavily upon her, I was deli cate about intruding upon her valuable time. But the Bigbys were always at leisure ; of course Bigby himself was engaged the greater part of the day down town, and Mrs Bigby was busy superintending her household; but Hattie had plenty of time to spare, and was too young to go into society. I had told Bigby that the closer he adhered to his own private circle the better it woidd be for a girl so young and impulsive as Hattie. So I was a little annoyed when he told me he thought of taking his wife and daugh ter to another of " them charity con certs."

" You do very wrong, Bigby," I said, reprovingly. " Hattie will be sure to attract idle attention, and I thing you'll regret it."

" Pooh, pooh, Mr Fithian," said the good-natured father ; "we can't keep her in a glass case, you know."

" Would to heaven we could," I groaned, and went in search of her.

I found her wild to go. We were in the summer-house, and those little octagon-shaped boxes, force people into close proximity. She had never been so beautiful. In her white dress, with a tear in each of her soft blue eyes, she was the embodiment of womanly loveli-

ness. " Please let me go," she said with her white hands clasped entreatingly. I moved toward her, impelled by a strange magnetism. I was dazzled, confused, bewildered.

" Why do you ask me," I stam mered. "Is my consent necessary to your happiness V

" Yes, yes," she murmured ; " I could not enjoy it otherwise !" She stopped t and drew a long breath. I felt it on my cheek, and a sweet rapturous conjecture was suddenly conceived in my heart. I sank back, overwhelmed with the the conviction that I loved her with a mad, ungovernable ardor.

A dim sense of disaster spoiled the dawning of my first passion.

She looked at me with a sudden fear.

" I have wounded you," she whis pered. " Now that is enough. I will not go." "You will'" I cried; "you |&|pt But with we, Hattie. I love you, m£m v'

Then I took her in my arms and kissed her, and went rapidly out of the summer-house. But before I went home it was arranged that she should go with me to to the concert, poor old Bigby giving a wondering but bland consent.

I determined, upon reaching my lodgings, to send a little note to Ger trude, stating my inability to visit her on the night of the festivity, but I found upon my table a note from her, I opened it with languid interest ; but upon reading the first few lines I threw it down, and walked madly across the room. Her note contained a request that that I would attend her to a con cert given for the benefit of the St. John's Chapel. It would be immedia tely under the auspices of the B.ev. Cavendish, she added, and that I must

be aware of its. charitable intent and j

purposes when she mentioned this name to me.

This concert was the very one for which Bigby had procured tickets, and to which I was pledged to take Hattie.

I sank into a chair, and supported a dazed and bewildered brain with my trembling hands. Whatever was to be done must be done quickly, as the night of the concert was close at hand, and it was certainly out of the question that I could go with either party.

With a sort of consciousness that the task I was about to perform was neither an easy nor a delightful one, I seized a pen, and wrote thus to Hattie :

"My Dear Little Elattie : In spite of all your hopes and plans, I can't take you to the concert. A big goblin has stepped in and upset everything. I can't tell you how inconsolable I am. Go with your papa and mamma; but look straight on the stage, and don't, with your rare loveliness, attract vulgar attention. —Yours, jealousy, Augustus Fithian." Then, with a heavy sigh, putting aside this little missive, I wrote this to Gertrude : "My Dear Gertrude : I find it quite impossible to go with you on Thursday. An unpleasant but imperative obstacle forbids.—Yours, always, Augustus Fithian. Night was already upon me when I had finished writing. Hurrying the two notes into envelopes, directing them with scrawling precipitation, and giving them into the landlady's hands to post, I threw myself on my bed without lighting my lamp. I lay hour after hour tossing, thinking, wonder ing. One thing was certaiu, my honour was pledged to Gertrude, but my love to Hattie, and there was more of love than honor about me just then. I turned coldly from a severe appeal on behalf of expediency and Gertrude, and plunged headlong into a delicious reverie of love and Hattie. Not a wink of sleep did I get till the morning sun streamed coldly and accusingly through my window; then in sheer fatigue I fell into a profound slumber and never awoke till noon.

Accompanying a late matutial meal there came what seemed to be a v lumi nous post. There were letters and letters ? I opened a prodigious enve lope directed in Gertrude's severe Italian hand. There fell to the floor my missive of the night before. What did it mean 1 I opened and read her extraordinary note: Mr Fithian : I return you the letter to your friend Hattie which you misdirected last evening. I hope you will keep the engagement that I un consciously interrupted, and will be able to protect her rare loveliness from the vulgar attention you so much de plore. —Respectfully Gertrude Vandewater.

After recovering from this thunder bolt of justice, I took up Hattie's little note, which contained these few but terrible lines :

Dear Mr Fithian : I understand now why you were unwilling I should go to the corfcert. As I must not be an unpleasant and imperative obstacle to you, I shall never see you again. Hattie Bigby.

I took up my hat and went out without knowing exactly why, and found myself presently at Gertrude's house. The blinds were partly closed, but under the curtain I saw the clumsy ties ot the Reverend Cavendish almost touching the slippers of Gertrude, and all four feet were under the table laden with architectural drawings.

A sudded impulse of rage seized me ; I ran up the steps and pulled loudly at the bell. The servant only half opened the door.

" Miss Vanderwateris not at home," he said.

I handed him my card and beckoned him'to take it within. Something in my face made him obey. He went in with it, but came out again almost im mediately with the card in his hand. " Miss Vandewater is not at home," he replied, in that dry, hollow voice peculiar to the Vandewater household. I plunged madly down the steps and made my way homeward. My land lads called to me as I was going up the stairs-that somebody was waiting in my room for me. "He would insist upon going up and waiting for you," she said. ""You see, sir, people must be seen sometimes."

She thought it was a dun and so did I. I was prepared^ to throw an im portunate creditor over the balusters, and went boldly into the room. In an arm-chair near the fire sat , Bigby! &' " I've come to talk to you," he said. t1 "First of all, Bigby," I exclaimed, " you must understand that I love your daughter, Hattie." Bigby almost fell out of his chair. He stared at me open-mouthed. I saw from his face he was in complete igno rance ofj|yerything; but I went on, nevertrlßlss :

" I love her to distraction. I never loved any woman before, and I never will again. I want you to tell her so, Bigby, for of course I shan't see her." " I won't do nothing of the kind," said Bigby. " What do you mean by saying you love one woman, when you're going to marry another ? " I'll never marry Miss Vandewater, Bigby. That's all broken off." Bigby fell back in his chair. "Broken, off!" he gasped, "when I've had my men working night and day on them there clothes of yours !" "I can't help that, Bigby. I know

I am. a ruined man as far as those things are concerned; but it's out of the question. I wouldn't marry her if I could, and I couldn't if I would." Then I told him everything.

" Them there clothe of yours'll be all out of fashion," he said mournfully when I had concluded •

" I won't need them, Bigby; I am going to the mines."

Bigby gazed musingly in the fire. Then he turned and looked at me. " If a woman's good enough to love, she's good enonght to marry, ain't she, Mr Fithian. ?" he said at length. " Unquestionably, Bigby." "And you love my Hattie, you say 1" - "I adore her, Bigby : I—" " And you think she's fond of you V broke in the old gentleman. " I—l hope so, I earnestly believe she is." " And if I gave her to you, Mr Fithian—and } rou know how much store we set by her—and if my wife and me would never lay a straw in your path, and would keep from troubling you all we could, would—would you give me your honor as a gentleman, Mr Fithian—as a gentleman, mind—you'd do your best to make Hattie happy 1" You see, Bigby's idea of a gentleman was something of an antithesis. I took his shaking hands in mine. I said—'But what does it matter what I said 1. I had always been fond of Bigby. I respected him now more than anyone I know ; Mrs Bigby was the handsomest women for her age I ever saw ; and as for Hattie—you all know how I felt about Hattie. Some weeks after I met Vandewater. He shook hands with me reproach fully. " I could'nt help it, Van," I said, " I decided to many for love."

" Hem," said Van, wieh a cynical smile—" let me see. I think old Bigby must be worth in the neighbourhood of half a million dollars."

GAZING AT THE COMET.

A young Albany (Oregon) couple were out on a door-step on Gospel Ridge, late on Sunday night, looking at the comet, visible in the northern heavens. At least it was evident the yooung lady wanted to see the comet, because she was overheard to tell the young gent to "keep his face out of the way so that she could see the comet!" Then there was a noise like the sudden drrwing of a horse's hoof out of the stiff mud, and then—and then—well, the old man thrust his head out of the front door of that house, and the young astronomers turned their backs to each oth-t and began counting the -stars aloud with great vehemence. The old man told them that the supherodial mass which they had been so dilligently contemplat ing ou the ethereal dome, scarcely de manded any more of their uuited atten tion that evening, and the young man would veiy much oblige him by pereg rinating in the direction ofhis own local habitation at that immediate period of time, or he would enable him to stars with more multitudinosity. The young mandid't further wait upon the order of "getttn'," but "got" at once.

CATCHING THE BOAT.

ANlrishman wascoming down Montage street, Brooklyn, on his way to the Wall-street Ferry. Over his port shoulder hung v bag containing

about a bushel of potatoest, and in his starboard hand he car ried a stout stick. Being under full sail, the momentum acquired in coming down the steep grade carried him nearly through the gateway, when, seeing a boat about ten feet from the dock, he shook out another reef, made an astonishing burst of speed, and jumped. Just as he reached the deck the potato-bag shifted heavily to port, and laid out a Broad street clerk who was smoking a cigar through a meerschaum holder, while the stick hit a rotund South-street merchant in the waistband, shutting him up like a jack-knife, and Pat himself assumed an involuntary devotional attitude. He was the first to recover his perpendicu larity, and as he placed the bag in its normal position, he complacently re marked, "Be me sowl, but I got the boat anyhow !" "Got the boat!" screamed clerk, spitting the pieces of amber out of his mouth. "Why you confounded idiot, this boat is coming in !" And so she was.

THE LITTLE PEOPLE

Delicate Child.—A delicate child is often the most loved of the children. It is a wise ordination of Providence that it should be so ; as a delicate child requires more care, more gentleness, more vigilance, more pity, and conse quently more love, and "Pity's akin to love;" or, as Dryden beautifully expresses it— " For pity melts the heart to love." People must eat well and sleep well to feel well ; but for a child to sleep well is far more necessary to his health than even for him to eat well—sleep being more necessary for a child than aught else, or than for everything else beside ! If a child cannot sleep well, a doctor is needed to find out the cause, or some thing serious will probably happen. If a child lose his appetita a mother may depend upon it that there is something wrong about him that requires imme diate investigation—investigation by a skilful medical man.

A Milwaukee woman, far gone with consumption, begged thejdoctor to give her something that would keep her up until the verdict of the Beecher com mittee was published.

A STRING OF LYRICS.

Br John Blackmax,

i. Shakespeare's Cliff. Oxe liappy morn I sat on Shakespeare's cliff, In musing mood, from care's encroachments free, And saw before me'many a fairy skiff, Upon the summer sea. The sun rays danced in beauty o'er the bay, Where shallow waves in bright, succession curled, While on the sea's green bo?om schooners lay, With mainsails white unfurled. Though scenes around me, all were beauty fraught, And ministered to fancy, life and love ; I hand one curious—one absorbing thought— All other thoughts above. Did Shakespeare ever tread this windy height, And on this cliff attune the living lyre. Did sky and water, bathed in Heaven's own light, His tragic muse inspire ? The poet might have sat upon this cliff, He might have gazed on yonder summer sea, The mere conjecture, bordering on belief, Was almost real to me. 11. THE EMIGRANT'S FAREWKLL TO ENGLAND. Adieu ! my native English Isle, I leave thee with regret, No more for me thy fields will smile 'Tween graceful hedgerows set. Adieu ! ye cattle-haunted hills, Ye gladsome vales and tinkling rills, Ye uplands gay with golden corn— Where larks salute the blushing mom, Where daisies light the swarded way, Amid the fragrant charms of May ; Ye friends, now passing from my view, I bid ye all a long —perhaps a last adieu. In thee, fair Isle, I fain would stay, And bear an honest part; But I must live, and reason's sway, Outsways my yearning heart. I seek a home in distant isles, Where nature sheds her affluent smiles Where labour's sous, though taxed they be, May earn the bread denied by thee, And where a man b}^ toil may thrive, And keep his self-respect alive ; Where plenty sits at worthy feet, And weaves her rosy wreath around the heart's retreat. What though thou gave'sfc great Shakespeare birth, And woke sweet Spenser's strain ; Their glorious songs sound o'er the earth, Unbounded by the main. Still Milton may inspire my powers— Still Burns delight my silent hours— Still unto me thy bards may sing, And sweetest consolation bring, 'Mid wild-flowers under shady trees, With native birds and murmuring bees, By bush, or creek, or mountain stream, With unencumbered ease, in Fancy's lightest dream. England ! I leave thy scenes of health, To tread New Zealand's shore I Amid thy ill-apportioned wealth, I'll vex my soul no more. I leave thy towns and foetid shades, Which want, with aspect grim, pervades, Where thousands worn with hapless strife,' Die out in sheer despair of life, Where misery pines 'tween workhouse walls, Where God's bright sunshine rarely falls To cheer the glooms of withering age, And where the pauper ends his weary pil grimage. 111. MOONLIGHT AT 5EA.,,...... I'm on the sea, the restless sea, On its waters wild and deep, But give to me, from tempests free, The vale with its tranquil sleep. The storm wind blows, the ship still goes, And the white waves dash and fly, Give me repose, where blooms the rose, 'Neath a star-lit, summer sky. Some love the sea—the surging sea, — And its wonders, dimly seen ; But give to me, the moss-clad lea— In its suit of golden green, .. In fair moonshine our ship looks fine, With her fluttering out-spread sails, But ho ! for a seat in a snug retreat 'Mong pastoral hills and daleg. IV. THE ICEBEHa. An ocean wonder floats before my sight, A fairy castle on the mighty waves ; A chilling iceberg sparkling in the light,- With purpling towers and richly vaulted caves. Upon its ramparts rainbow hues are seen, As sailing o'er the ocean's blue abyss ; The earth embosoms many a glorious scene, But ne'er unveils a marvel like to this. V. AUCKLAND. Ho ! ho ! boys, the first mate cries, Awake for the morn is bright. There's a scene ahead to gladden your eyes, The land, the land is in sight. Up, up, to the bulwarks side We scampered the land to see, And in the distance a rock we espied— A speck o'er the dreary sea. A joy to our yearning hearts, Ye, who have traversed the main Will know what joy such a scene imparts, 1 A sight of the land again. Three months on the ocean wide— Three months on the deep and more— Then sweet is Parnell in its flowery pride, And Auckland's city and shore.

A Lesson in Manners.—Harry sat at his father's side at a friend's table. Somebody passed him the bread. Harry touched a piece that was dry, so he dropped it and took a softer one. "My son," said the father reprovingly, "never touch a piece of bread or cake that you don't mean to take." Harry ate his bread and remembered. After a while the cake was passed around. When it came to Harry, the little fingers made a quick adroit movement, and hauled off three large slices. "Why Harry !" cried his father. "Well papa," said the boy bravely , "You told me to take all the pieces I touched, and I touched all these." "No, no, my son ; I said to touch only what yon meantto take." "And that's just what I did, papa. I meant to take every one, and I tried for that other big slice with the pile of sugar on it." Everybody laughed, and the father wisely concluded to give Harry his next lesson in table etiquette at home.

Sweetening one's coffee is generally the first stirring event of the day.

A Georgia girl is going to lecture on " Kisses "in Washington. She wil borrow a mail to illustrate upon.

Chicago ladies, if unwell, "deem it vulgar to say they are "Bilious," so complain of being " Williamous."