"Little 80-Peep" and the Dy ing Child.

I kemember when I was nursing in a hospital once, there was a little boy about six years old dying of rheumatic fever. I was night nurse in the ward ; and regularly, when the attack of pain came on, he used to call out for me:

' Nursey, sing. It hurts me. Bing the hurt away.'

£o then I'd prop him upon my arm an' sing one song after another, from 'Twinkle, Twinkle, little Star' to ' Black-eyed i^usan,' till the paroxysm of pain was over an' he'di quiet down again 1 always knew when that was by his joinin' his voice in, too —such a pipe of a voice, poor lamb ! but 1 was better glad to hear it than any music, for it telled me the pain was gone for a while, and I could lie down to sleep again.

Poor wee mite! T was singing ' I ittle 80-Peep' the night he died. I had him in my arms. He'd been sinking all day. I knew he couldn't last out another: an' though he tried to join in as usual, his voice went into a gasp an' broke. I'd been sometimes used to call the children in the ward my little sheep, an' when I came to the end of the verse—

Little 80-Peep lost all her sheep, An' doesn't know where to find them : Let 'em alone an' they'll come home, An' bring their tails behind 'em— he looked up in my face with a bit of a smile on his poor little drawn white mouth and said:

' JNursey'll know where to find her lickle sheep when he goes home. "Will I be long going home now, nursey ?'

Long! Ah, poor littlej lamb! ten minutes later an' he'd gone home. — Cassell's Magazine.

Dixie Melodies.

~No one who has ever heard the wild yet melodious songs of a negro steamboat crew, away down on the Mississippi River while ' wooding-up,' can forget it. The boat has landed at some quiet, unin habited-looking sort of a place, and lies lazily alongside the full banks, where the overhanging cypress, with its long and graceful festoons of moss, touch the hurri cane deck. The passengers are out on the shore —side guards watching the men file in with their monstrous loads of cord wood and out again empty handed, sing ing their peculiar songs all the time. The forest is lit up with the flaming tor ches, and the quaint refrain of the dusky minstrels as they move in the uncertain light make up a weird scene. In these songs, as in everything else human, thero is a leader. He gives out anything taat occurs to him, in a sort of a strange solo, and others come in on the chorus. The favorite sort of a song is in words some thing like this:

The Natchez is a bully boat, Hi-oh-oh. She walks high on de water, Hi-oh-oh. De captin, he's a clever man, ' Hi-oh-oh. And de mate is here from G-eorgia, Hi-oh-oh. Those Dixie song.3 all partake of the character of,the work that the singers are engaged at. Sometimes, in the old days, an army of hundreds of negroes could have been seen on a cotton plantation hoeing in a tow across a young field of the kingly plant, and then the leaders sung of their neighbours, embalming their virtues and commenting on their vices, or ieJling the legends of their home. For E stance:

Old marster's mating money now, Jang gam a lang go hay, We does it wid de hoe and plough, Jang gam a Jang go hay. Dar's ole Bell, he's gone to hell, Jang gam a lang go hay, De riiggahs he's sold nobody can tell, i: Jang gam a lan g go hay. Little piece of lean and a little piece of fat, Jang gam a lang go bay, And de white folks grumble if you eat much of dat, Jang gam a lang go hay. Wid all dis trouble we all go ham, • ' Jang gam a lang go hay, An' ruddah be a niggah dan a poo' white man, Jang gam a lang go hay. . At the quarters, after work was over, all the negroes would gather in some favorite spot, and with the banjo, bones, triangle, fiddle and tamborine they would make delicious music, while those pos sessed of none of the accomplishments of instrumentation would dance to the merry numbers. All of these, of every age and sex, could dance. Sometimes they carried on a" species of song called ' talking jaw bone,' In this two of the most learned would be pitted against each other, sing ing alternately a stanza, and the one that could hold out in rhymes the longest was the victor. All those present would gather around these musical gladiators, and one would start in:

Ebo, Edmun', Simon,.Joe, Ding dat niggah wliafc stole my oh t)at putyest sheep dat was in my flock, And Taggy stole my Turkey cock. Ole jawbone, do go home. Then the other would take up the time and sing:

Dar's ole macster promise me When he died he'd sot me free: Now ole marster's dead and gone, Here's dis darkey still hillin' up de corn. Ole jawbone, do go home.

And thus they would go on, for hours at a time, until finally one or the other had to succumb for the lack of more stuff to sing about. It has been a matter of wonder that this peculiar style of song has never been taken lip and presented by the travelling negro minstrel troupes of the

The plantation negroes in the days of t slavery sang everywhere; in the fields at i work; at the corn huakings; in their, forms of worship; in joy and in sorrow, everywhere, they sang. "Who has not seen an aged aunty sitting on the sunshiny side, of her cabin, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, with her head [resting on her hands and her elbows on rjtaees, rocking back and forth, croning ML faff like this;

Sing, little children, sing. Mighty long time gwine to the cross-roads What made you come so slow ? Hope to get dar in de due time, Before dem gtes is closed, Glory hally lv. In the log church the leader in the field was the leader in the meetin', and his song was sometimes in this shape: Why can't you do like Peter did, A walkin' on de sea ? He clapped his liauds to his dyin' Lord. Oh, good Lord, remember me. 'Member de rich, and 'member de poor, .Member de bond and de free; And when you are done a 'memberin' around, Dear, good Lord, remember me. Their religious songs were all very devout, and evinced a perfect faith in the teachings of the Bible, the great truths of which they had gathered by scraps from the familiar associations of some of the house servants with white persons who could read, and by them carried in a sor of legendary way to the field hands. Be sides, they had a kind of religion graven on the tablets of their hearts, nearly like those on the tablets of stone. In the same manner their songs sometimes derived amusing touches of the classic —as, for instance, in one ballad where they sang of a horse whose foot struck a rock and fresh water came to the famished, which is doubtless akin to the old mythological story of Pegasus. A huge book could be written about the songs of this simple and untutored people, and the half not be told.

Bits of Fun.

The French keep up their little jokef. An Alsatian woman goes to confess. ' Father, I have committed a great sin' 'Well!' 'I dare not say it; it is too grievous.' ' Come, come, courage.' ' i have married, a Prussian.' 'Keep him, daughter. That's your penance.'

He was going up Jefferson avenue, in Detroit, satchel in hand, when he saw an old hat on the walk. He deviated considerably from his course, stopped close to the hat, and drew back and kicked with all his might Some boys gathered around him as he sat in the doorway hoJdiDg his foot and grinding his teeth and waving his body to and fro, and they explained to him that he should never kick old hats in a strange town.

A stranger from the country observing an ordinary roller rule on the table, took it up and inquiring its use, was answered : 'It is a rule for counting houses.' Too well-bred, as he construed politeness, to ask unnecessary questions, he turned it over and up and down repeatedly, and at last, in a paroxysm of baffled curiosity, he inquired, 'How in the name of wonder do you count houses with this?'

The minister calmly eaid that it must be He could not marry them unless they both did truly and duly tell him their ages, such being the regulation to which he ruust bow. The young man mildly responded, 'Twenty six;' the youn» woman—ah, the young woman! Answer? Never. 'Then you can't be married.' Her soft cheek grew white as the snow that rests upon the mighty hills; her eyes were filled with anguish. But she cried, 'Thirty-one.' Truth like this should have been rewarded, but it wasn't. The bridegroom observed that he had under stood the bride was only twenty-five, and hei'couldn't forgive deceit. 'Farewell,' he said. She remarked that this was justice, and they parted for ever. Which ended their melancholy story.

' Why did you pass yesterday without looking at me ?' said a beautiful woman to Talleyrand. ' Because madam, if I had looked I could not have passed.'

Brooklyn Girls.

[Salt Lake Herald Brooklyn Letter.]

* * * Let us turn to a more cheerful theme, and what more plea sant and enlivening than the girl of the period, as presented by the fashionable young lady of this pious (?) city of churches. Let us take as an average sample, the first one we meet pro menading Clinton street on a sunny afternoon, features beautiful and deli cate, eyes large and soft, beaming with intelligence, but displaying a tell-tale ring of black beneath them, indicative of fashionable dissipation, late hours, oyster suppers and champagne. Her hair is crimped and frizzed in front to an unlimited extent in marked contrast to the simple braid hanging down her back, tastefully tied with a becoming ribbon. Her costume is chaste and rich, and her little hands are encased in Alexandre's five and a quarter, while pretty little No. 3 French kid boots twinkle in and out from beneath the heavy folds of her black cross grain silk skirt. But your lovers of antique beauty, of figures cast in a classic mould, will not find their ideal in the Brooklyn girl. 3STo Hogarth's line of beauty curve is to be found, for as a rule, she presents a straight line from her neck to her toes, having about as much contour as a tombstone, unless, indeed, as is often the case, some fashionable corset-maker is called in to the rescue. How different from the Venus-]ike forms of the beauties of Deseret! Modest young Salt Lakers would be surprised to heap the Brooklyn girl talk; she converses with the utmost freedom on the ' scandal,' giving her views pro and con iv a manner to excite consternation in the blushing hearer ; her views on all subjects are decidedly emancipated, and many a mother of a family would be astounded to listen to her expounding subjects supposed to be only known to doctors and nurses! There is, I fear, something defective in Eastern society; I know not what it is; but I firmly believe that, if one hundred thousand, of these girls were sent to the Rocky Mountains, it would result, morally and physically, to the great advantage of future generations.

What befe a Modest Youth in a Car.

An exceedingly modest young man, dressed in a new suit of broadcloth, entered an Olive street car yesterday, and blushingly took a seat by the side of a nurse with a baby in her arms. The mother of the babe, a young woman of vivacious disposition, and with yisual orbs somewhat marred by strabismus had a seat on the opposite side of the car, where she could gaze fondly upon her offspring and mark the play of its cherub countenance. The ' chick-a -biddy' was exhilarated by the gentle rocking of the bobtail, and looked at its mother' and crowed and thrust its fists into its mouth. The young mother responded by a tender glance at the ' sugar-plum,' but to the bash ful young man it seemed that her eyes were fixed directly tipon him, and he blushed scarlet and wiped his face with his handkerchief. 'It is fond of its new cosey ?' exclaimed the tender parent, unconcious of the pre sence of all except her child—her face was aglow with intense affection, and her eyes lighted up with tbe fire of love and devotion, but alas! they were looking in the wrong direction, and beamed upon the modest young man, as he thought, with too much freedom. He wriggled in his seat and tried to turn away, but another lady was at his left, and he could not avoid the gaze of the admiring woman opposite. *It will be a little man bye and by and have a nicey moustache when it gets older, and it will go to see the girls and flirt with them; won't you, darling!' And the eyes blazed and burned and seemed to devour the face of the young man with increasing appetite. ' Does it want a stick of candy? Well, its inuzzer'll get it some when she gets out at the corner; so, don't cry, my little darling.' The young man was now in a height of perspiration, and, being unable to stand it any longer, seized the strap, and giving the bell a dozen vigorous jerks, rushed frantically from the car. He told -the first ac quaintance that he met that a beautiful girl had made love to him in the car, and that she was so ' far gone' that she a 11 < her passion in a street car. — St. Louis Democrat.

Eat Lightly and Sleep Well.

[Landriot, Archbishop of liheims.]

The most formidable combat man has to fight is not always "on the battle field, but is rather that which he has to wage with his pillow. Do not let us deceive ourselves; there lies the enemy most difficult to vanquish; and the soldier who has intrepidly faced the cannon's mouth has felt his cour age fail him on the plains of down We must take prudent and energetic precautions against this formidable adversary. First cultivate that firm decision of character which will liaten to no wavering, and pay attention to the following recommendations: If you eat too much at ni^ht there will result a long, difficult and laborious digestion, and when you want to rise, next morning, you will feel as if your body was fastened to the bed; the slightest motion becomes a frightful' effort, and, counselled by sloth, you find it easy to prove to yourself that it is a debt that you owe your health not to torment so feeble an organisa tion Clement of Alexandria says: 'We should avoid eating too much, lest the load of food oppress us in slumber, like a heavy burden by which a swimmer is weighed d,own amid the waves. This practice of temperance will ensure us an easy waking.' Why do you so often meet persons of robust health, and who enjoy the soundest slumbers, in reli gious communities ? They eat lightly and therefore sleep well. Do not { mistake the meaning of my words. When I say they sleep well, I do not say they sleep much. They take a light repast in the evening, and then sleep that profound, tranquil sleep which many of the rich and powerful would give thousands to purchase. The repose of the just soul is calm, peaceful, and undisturbed, and his waking is fresh as the dawn of morn in the Spring time. Pere Lacordaire once said to me: ' You- cannot im agin the comfort resulting from the short nightly rest of a religious**.'

A Royal Funeral in Africa.

When a King of TJnyoro dies, it is not the custom to put him in the grave until the succession to the vacant throne has been decided. His sons must fight for the royal power, and the civil war entailed sometimes lasts for years. Meantime the deceased King lies unburied. Im mediately upon his death, his body is laid out upon a framework of green wood constructed like a huge gridiron, and is dried over a slow fire. When reduced to the condition of a mummy, the body is wrapped in new bark clothes and laid in state in a large house erected especially for thQ purpose. Here it reposes while the contestants are fighting for the succession.

As soon as victory has decided in favor of one of the parties, the fortunate son visits the hut where his father's body awaits sepulture, and, approaching the corpse, sticks his spear upright in the upright in the ground, and leaves it thus near the right hand of the body. The son now assumes the regal state, and, as his first duty, superintends the funeral of his father.

An immense trench is now excavated capable of containing several hundred people, and in neatly lined with fresh

bark-cloths. A number of the wives of the dead King are then seated together at the bottom of the pit, so as to bear upon th sir knees the body of the defunct.^ The night before the funeral the King's own regiment, or body-guard, surrounds the dwellings and villages, and seize their inmates as they leave their doors in the morning. These captives, consisting of men and women indiscriminately, are conveyed to the brink of the pit, where their legs and arms are broken with clubs Thus disabled, they are pushed into the pit. on the dead King and his living wives. A horrible din of drums, horns, flageolets, whistles mingled with the yells of the frantic bystanders, drowns the shrieks of the miserable wretches ' upon whom the earth is shovelled and stamped down by thousands of cruel fanatics, who dance and jump upon the loose mould,' so as to compress it into a compact mass. Through this it is impossible for the entombed victims to force their way, as their limbs have peen broken to render them helpless and prevent their escape. At length the mangled mass ©f human beings ' buried and trampled down beneath a tumulus of earth and all is still. The funeral is over. With how much heart-felt fervor must the inhabitants of TJnyoro continually pray, Long live the King!

A Preach Husband.

HOW THE LoBDS OP CeEATIOST ABE Supported by Their Wives in Paeis.

[Paris Correspondent, St. Louis Globe ]

My lodgings are, and have been for some months, in the Rue Chausaee d' Antin. My landlady is pleasant, in telligent, quite comely, in the neigh borhood, perhaps, of five and thirty. She always has a smile, is tastefully dressed, and has something of the coquettish air inseparable from Parisian women of any education. Often, in coming and going, have observed a spruce, genteel man of forty or there abouts, who, I had supposed, was one of my fellow-lodgers, I have never exchanged a word with him, though, according to Trench custom, we doff our hats to one another when we pass.

I had made up my mind that my unknown friend was a retired, well-to do merchant, probably a bachelor, liv ing comfortably on a snug income. 1* was confirmed in this opinion when I saw him lounging on the Boulevards, sipping his after-dinner coffein front of the Maison Uoree or Cafe .niche, and dining in the Blois with a woman, pretty, young and plainly fast. A fortnight since 1 encountered him in earnest conversation with my land lady. Mhe same afternoon, having some business with her, we chanced to drift into talk on miscellaneous sub jects. She told me that the stranger i had mistaken for a bachelor was her husband. They had been married for ten years. When she became ac quainted with him he had a wine-shop ; but he disposed of it after their union. 'He has another and a better business now, no doubt,' I remarked casually. ' O no, Monsieur; he has had no business since. He does not like work ; he is too genteel for that. He loves to lounge on the Boulevards, to dine at the fashionable restaurants, to amuse himself elegantly. And I love to suppert him in such luxuries. 1 can afford to. I have quite an in come from.these lodgings, tie gets most of it; he ought to have it, for he is a nice fellow, and I am proud of and fond of him. Don't you think him handsome? He says many fine ladies on the Boulevards look after him admiringly as they roll by in their carriages. Ah! I was very lucky to get him.' ' He assists you, X suppose, in your accounts, in collecting your rents ? '

' Very far from it. I would not allow him to. Besides, he would not soil his hands with bills and accounts. I manage everything. He yawns if I speak to him of money matters, which I seldom do. It is not right to annoy him with such vulgarities. Ah, he is a dear fellow. He takes me out some times, not very often; that would spoil me. 'Ihen we have very delicious times. I know the fine ladies envy me, seeing me at his side. Every once in a while he kisses me when he goes away in the morning, and I am very happy then for a whole week. I have asked him sometimes if he does not kiss other women. He does not reply directly, but says gentlemen of gallantry must have their recreations. Ah, yes, I pre sume they must. 1 hope, though, that he Jonly kisses their hands or cheeks. That is not so had. Oh, he is a noble gentleman; my precious husband.' The little woman's eyes suffused as she- contemplated the manifold per fections of her illustrious liege. She was perfectly sincere in every word she uttered. She had no idea that she was revealing him to my supreme con tempt ; that he was a base wretch, a pensioner, a sneak, a dastard. And I pitied and esteemed her too much to tell her my opinion of him. What a genuine French Turveydrop he was, and is ■ And to think that this woman, intelligent, shrewd, no longer young, should be so blinded by her affection as not to see him in his true light. When ehe had ceased speaking, a new colbr had come to her pale olive face. It was partly love, partly gratitude to the miserable scoundrel for his generosity in living upon her and spending her money for his vulgar pleasures, fche looked almost beautiful. I could have kissed her from commiseration, but I did not. I bade her good evening, and went away.

A Model Lawyer.

' Sqtjiee Johnson' was a model law yer, as the following anecdote will evince: Mr. Jones once rushed into the Squire's office in a great passion. • That infernal scoundrel of a cobbler, nuith, has sued me, Mr. Johnson — sued me for five dollars I owe him for •i pair of boots ?' 'Then you owe him the five dol lars ?' 'To be sure I do but he has gone and sued me—sued me !' 1 i hen why don't you pay him, if you owe him ?' 'Because he has sued me; and when a man does that, '11 never pay him till it costs him more than he gets. I want you to make it cost him all you can.' 'But it will cost you something too.'

'1 don't care for that ; what do you charge to begin with?' 1 Ten dollars; and more if there is much extra trouble.'

'All right! There's the X. Now go ahead I 1 No sooner was his client gone than Squire Johnson stepped across to his neighbour Smith and offered to pay the bill, on condition that the suit be withdrawn. The shoemaker gladly acceded—all he wanted was his pay. The lawyer retained the other five for his, and as the case was not' trouble some,' made no further demands upon his client.

Ten days after, Jones comes in to see how his case is getting along.

' All right,' said the lawyer you won't have any more trouble about that. I put it to Smith so strongly that he was glad to withdraw the suit altogether.' ' Capital!' cried the exulting Jones. 'You've dove it up Brown. You shall have all my business.'

The Strangest of Duels.

Pekhaps the most remarkable duel ever fought took place in 1803. It was pecu liarly French in its tone, and could hardly have occurred under any other than a French state of society. M. le Grandpre and M. le Pique had a quarrel, arising out of jealousy concerning a lady. They agreed to fight a duel to settle their re spective claims, and, in order that the heat of angry passions should not inter fere with the polished elegance of the proceeding, they postponed the duel for a month, the lady agreeing to bestow her hand on the survivor of the two if the other was killed; at all events, this was inferred by the two men, if not actually expressed. The duelists were to fi^ht in the air. Two balloons were constructed exactly alike. On the day denoted Le Grandpre and his second entered the car of one baloon, Le Pique and his second that of the other; it was in the garden of the Tuileries, amid an immense concourse of spectators. The gentlemen were to fire uot at each other, but at each other's balloon, in order to bring them down by the escape of gas; and as pistols might hardly have served this purpose, each aeronaut took a blunderbuss in his car. At a given signal the ropes that retained the car were cut, and the baloons ascended. The wind was moderate and kept the baloons at about their original distance of 80 yards apart. When half a mile from the surface of the earth a preconcerted signal for firing was given. M. le Pique fired but missed. M. le Grandpre fired and sent a ball through Le Pique's balloon. The balloon colapsed, the car descended with frightful rapidity, and Le Pique and his second were dashed to pieces. Le Grandpre continued his ascent triumphantly, and terminated his aerial voyage successfully.

Story of Paul I. of Russia.

One morning the Emperor met a young officer on a great wooden bridge The officer was a wag, and on this particular occasion his assurance was stimulated by plenty of good old wine The oldest generals in the army trem bled before the crazy Emperor, but this young soldier had no fear of him. As he passed he gave the usual salute, but in a decidedly devil-may-care fashion, which attracted the Emperor's attention. ' Come this way,' said his Majesty fiercely. The officer obeyed. 'You belong to the stupid sqnad—the fellows who know nothing.' 4 Oh, sire, excuse me, I know everything.' 'In deed ! Then, how many nails are there in this bridge?' 'Seventeen billions, one hundred and eighty four millions, three hundred a,nd fifty-eight thousand, nine hundred and fifty-six, and four tacks.' * Sure of that ?' Perfectly sure, sire.' ' Hem, hem 1 How many fishes in the sea ?' V Three hundred and sixty-nine billions,, four hundred and forty-eight thousand, six hundred and thirty-eight and three sprats.' ' Sure of that too ?' ' Perfectly sure, sire, without counting the flukes.' The Emperor looked pleased, and turned to go away, when the cunning soidier remarked with great modesty: • But there are two things, sire, that I don't know.' 'What are they?' said Paul, turning round fiercely. ' Where I live and what's my name.' lhe Emperor at once made a count of him and gave him a splendid estate.

Worthy of the Laurel.

The true pee.t, to day, is G-od's prophet, , If a singer prove false to his trust, Make his mission a bj-word and scoff it, .Is meet he should sink into dust. Who would wear the life crown of the poet Must breathe out a soul in-his art- Stand above the rude throng, not below it; And his song muit be pure, liko kit heart. Alice Williams, in, Golden t*ge.

*ri?*?. d aid Published br the proprietors, Gw»a*,..".,. MoCuliaoh Kbbd, of St (Jeorge'« Buy, and Hmrt ' Bkaw/of PM-nell, atih.lr OeninlStoMßPrintln* '"^

SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAB.



rpo THE WOEKING MEN OF AUCKLAND. Fellow Workmen :— We regret that circumstances compel us to make the following appeal to yon, and at the same time to place before you a few concise facts bearing upon our mutual in terests. For a considerable time past you have been grossly misrepresented by a portion of the trading1 community of this city. Many of you are aware-that the Early Closing Association have been constant in their en deavours to establish a uniform hour for closing the retail drapery and clothing eatab ishments, namely, at 6 p.m. from Monday to Friday, leaving the hour for closing on Saturday an open question. The Association has been only partly successful, having been met by the most determined oppositionTiy a few tradesmen whose action in this matter we refrain from characterising in terms it so justly merits. They assert it is to supply your wants that they keep open'till 9or 10 o'clock at night. Now, this iB the point upon which we wish to concentrate your particular and earnest attention. We are personally acquainted with many of you, and hare no hesitation in saying that we believe this assertion to be a base slander upon you as a body, and we ask you to join us in re moving it once, and for ever. We have yet to learn, that you, having secured the eight hour system to yourselves, are so lost to every right feeling between man and man, as to be, not only indifferent to the position and fate of your fellow workers, both male and female, but that you are the actual cause ; that it is your in dividual action which justifies these men in a determined effort to establish a late «ystem i of trading, which, if successful, would com pel the assistants to work double the number of hours allotted to yourselves. In Melbourne and Sydney the same opposition was expurienced; but true to the great principle that had formed their bond of Union, the Trade Unions rallied lound the Association, and openly declared that they would not support the houses that kept open after six o'clock. What the Trade Unions did for them, we ask the work shops, the manufactories, the friendly societies, and others to do for us. We shall in, a iew days meet the various trades, and the men engaged on all the con tracts in and about Auckland, and shall ask them to delegate one from each calling to act with us as a sub-committee. The opposition experienced has neces sitated a constant expenditure, the funds for which have been, subscribed by the assis tants in weekly payments—many of these contributions coming from young girls whose earnings are not more than twelve or fifteen shillings per week. Under such circumstances, we ask you it is not absolutely incredible that you—the very bone and sinew of the country—should have the credit of perpetuating such a state of things. If you support this late system you are false to yourselves—you are sapping the foundation of your own institutions; you are tearing a strand from your bond of union, and fostering a canker worm about the roots .of the tree you have reared and guarded with such ji aloua care and beneath the shade of which you have enjoyed time for mental improvement, with social recreation, and numberless other advantages, the immediate offspring of a proper adjustment of time and labour. Trusting that you will afford us a hearty response, and cordial co-operation,— We are respectfully yours, Thk Commttteb of the Early Closing Association. i ' I - -■ ; '



; ' ' ' : ■' y--> ; HOT SPiE^a l' TO THE SICK ANT) DEBILITATED. , V Follow Shakespeare's advice, "Throw Phvßln tn the dogs," and visit the Waiwera Hot Springs Th« '?'''''' healing virtues of these famous springs border on ■■ the miraculous, scores of persons afflicted Trith Paralysis, Rheumatism, Eruptions, Contracted ajifl Stiff Joints, Gout, Lumbago, Skin Diseases Sot. < Heads, and varieties of painful diseases have bean restored to perfect health through bathing in tih^n marvellous springs, and drinking the mineral water :! x who gratefuUy bear testimony to the fact. The water '! I has been pronounced the most remarkable heaUnff ■ > water in the world, and effected most wonderfni : ' cures. . «*■■■. j. TO THE TOURIST OR PLEASURE SEEKER IN LUSTY HEALTH the Waiwera Hot Springs will be a source of amaw. ment and delight. The scenery in the neighbourhood ■ i is diversified and picturesque, and affords abundant - 1 material for the Botanist, Geologist, Painter Pont or Recluse. ' ' . .- ' ;. THE FAMILY HOTEL is fitted with every convenience for comfort A wel supplied table is provided, and this, coupled with excellent accommodation, attention, civility and1 t'i moderate charges, leave nothing the most fastidioui '■■■':'"■•'' can desire. w» m r; A Yacht is kept for the use of visitors. Thereto '•>. fishing, shooting, and other pastimes for the strons ■ • or convalescent. •» , " Steamers leave Auckland (which is only 24 mflea ' distant) for the Hot Springs twice a week, and there - are two conveyances twice a week overland. " "Wakefield-street, Auckland, ' ' n/W December 14,1874 • Sir,—Having derived much benefit from bathing , in your Hot Springs, Waiwera, I think it is a duty^'J that I owe to the public—espeoially suffering '■'■''at humanity—that my case should be made know - - Before I went to the Springs I suffered for more than a month the most excruciating pain fromrheu- !'' matic gout, had to be lifted in and out of bed in < ■••'* fact was unable to walk without the use of two sticks ,''.'.'• '"•■ It took me an hour to walk from Wakefield-street to ' ' i! the 'Lady Bowen.' After getting to the Spring! I -'ii' bathed twice a day and drank freely of the mineral. ■ '.'■■ waters, at least a pint each day, and after six days I,;{ felt quite well, free from pain, and can walk as wall : ''■?■'■ as ever I did. It is now eleven days since I left and have had no return of pain. If this should induce . any person suffering as I was to try the hot bathe, I' : i feel sure they will get cured, and if so, serve the n\ object I have in writing to you.—l am, sir, your obedient servant, Thos. WjEAvmd, Robert Graham, Esq. Auckland, January 5,1875; Cir-;- Mr Robert Graham, .' '/••• Sir, —Understanding you are the proprietor of' the &W Hot Springs at Waiwera, I think it is only due to you' ,n s to give a short account of my successful experience ' of the efficacy of the Springs in the cure of Rheumi. ;-' i tism. I had been suffering from Bheumatism since '• ; the year '69, contracted through cold and wet work- • ing on the West Coast, and from that time untilT ■'" left the Springs I had suffered periodically from the ;) same. The second bath I took brought back all the j rheumatic pains I had ever experienced in different' ffl parts of my body. At the end of a fortnight I wag '■'■'.l-tf free from all pains, with the exception of the ankles (which was always the worst part affected), and with the exception of my feet being very tender from so ?R| much hot bathing lam quite a new man; I have not" ■ ■!•■ the slightest pain of Rheumatism about me, not even in the ankles. To parties visiting the Springs I . ';: should advise them not to feel' alarmed or disap pointed if they find themselves worse the first day or • two; according to the general opinion it shows the , action of the waters. Also I would recommend the ■' drinking at least two or three glasses of water both . on entering and leaving the bath; also, sweating in the blankets, for which accommodation is provided <''! in each bath; and to parties affected with acute ', Kheumatism I think the more they use them the more speedy will be the cure. ' <■ Jw I remain, sir, . j■■ ..,, Yours respectfully, C. H. WILLOtJOHBT. ' . Auckland, 10th January, 1875. ,f«,L Dear Sir,— .. "■'. In the interests of those who may b8 similarly Op? afflicted, and in recognition of the benefits I derived .-.! at your sanatorium, the Waiwera Hot Sbringg, I desire to record the efficacy of the baths and water in the cure of Dyspepsia, from which I had suffered many months. Thanks, however, to the virtues of the mineral waters, together with a free use of baths, I was relieved of the distressing symptoms, and hare since enjoyed the best of health. Yours truly, John Bent. ' r:i Robert Graham, Esq. Robert Graham, Esq. * Dear Sir,—Having suffered from rheumatism for"'-1' some time paßt, on the recommendation of. my,' ;( medical adviser, Dr. Turnbuil, of Christchurch, I.. ■" ' visited your Hot Springs. After three weeks'bath- '," ing and drinking the mineral water, I am restored too ji perfect health. In fact, I have not. felt so well for it ... years as lam at present. The trip. altogether Km ,' been a most enjoyable one. I found the hotel otnttf'/'-'i'.'i fortable, excellent table, attendance good, civu'aMd... T ,,-i obliging, pleasant for the invalid seeking health, or , the man of business requiring laxation. I know Of nip' ■■' -"'' place in New Zealand where a person could purs] ' few weeks more agreeably than at your Hot SpringH. Yours faithfully, J. J. FITZGIBBOKii' i?M Postmaster, Christchuroli. .-••..<; |{j«s Q. EOR G E W. OW E Np FORT-STREET, AUCKLAND, HAS ON SALE, 7i:a vj tftfj TO ARRIVE EX SHOOTING STAB, FEBK- :; CHiEN, JSMILY MCLAREN, DONJSDIN,. CALLER OU. &c — 80 barrels and cases New Currant! 80 cases bottled Fruits . -■, «Vij 6SJ boxes Eleme Raisins 7 cases Figs and Muscatels 20 barrels Prunes .e:0-v 20 cases Imperial Hams,. 21b and 41b bottles 25 cases Red Herrings, Whybrow's 20 cases Fresh He-rings, Morton's • "•' ' oi J .U«^ 30 half-barrels Pickled, do l^^,, < 2 tons Ling / Overall ■ ; 30 cases Lobßterß*aDd Mackerel 38 bales Paper and Paper Bags - s \ \& 50 cases Capers and Currie Powder ' ■■',"'] i'i'J 50 cases Vinegar, Whybrow's and Mortou'B '; J' 60 cases Bottled Salt '-■'' 3 cases Essences 7 casks Canary, Hemp, and Rape Seed 6 casks Carraways 21 cases Taylor's and Epp's Cocoa, &o. 32 cases and casks Blacking ", 40 cases Kieller's Jujubes and Confectionery '' ' 40 cases Marmalade • .':'::•■.' 350 boxes Candles 35 cases Brown and Poison's Corn Flour L" 160 boxes Pipes and Bath Bricks '; !'■'■ 65 cases Castor and Salad Oil 50 cases Cohnan's Mustard and Blue ' ■ 82 gross Nixey's Black Lead ' ' '' 2 tanks Sago and-Tapioca v , :;Wj B cases Liquorice, loz sticks ■ < . '~, $(& 70 casks Bi-Carbonate Soda and Crystal 8 cases Twine and Lines * j ;0 4 cases Brushware • . . • r . :,„ 13 cases Baking and Egg Powder 16 cases Fancy Soap and Soap Powders 2 cases Chlorodyne .vj! Nutmegs, Spice, Piments, Ginger, &c. 55 drums Linseed Oil ' W 108 tons Paint, &c. , So ksfiMf 4 tons Crashed Lump and Loaf Sugar ■ *■ '..:■■" 30 cases Bell and Black's Vestas, 250'g and Plaidi ' i ! _^____j_ - ;■ BO ON SALE, EX 'MARY ADAIir Expected.to arrive about the end of the present < ,' «S« mrt aionth, a Cargo consisting of about i -■„, 2)0 TONSSUGAR(assortedexpresßlyforthismarkeQ ' -'' .'= GEO. W. BINNET.: 'io.&.Ja^nl Thb ATTCK^AJSii) VBNiMAJC {i BLIND MANUFACTORY. 1 •• M. HOETON BITSBY. ' V ' B| IND MAKER* WIRE WOBKI WHOLBSALB AND RBTAIL, ilk : Ho| I IHlBn MMCttPCP I^B ■! J^^LwHHiEpa*B^H Hi JSSES I^B I VE'NETIAN'-aOITSB,.'^'-;; Has: now REMOVED to those Large, New, Commodious Premises, situated at the corner ' Queen and Cook-streets, where he frill continue : : business an heretofore. * ■ ■