WAIF FROM THE HANNAFOR DIAN DIARY.

S3B«ING HOW BY PRESENCE OF MIND DICK

RATTLE WON A WTFK WITH TWO THOTJS4JTD

POUNDS.- A CAUTION TO ALL WHO GO

BATHING- TO BEFLECT WITH WHOM THEY

LEAVE THEIR CLOTHES.

Dick Rattle was a fair sample of those 'adult babies,' who, following no occupation in the OJd Country, seek the shores of New - Zealand with the insane hope that 'something to their advantage' will undoubtedly spring up to lead them straight away to fortune, that a golden tide will roll towards them whilst they with folded arms placidly await its auriferous approach. Poor dear, good tempered, indolent Dick ! type of many a thousand who have gone to the dogs, and sample of many a thousand more who are on the high road to the same canine terminus ! Dick, like the dog in the old saw, had had his day, and at the time he is introduced to the reader was in a very seedy condition, in deed. Sans nap to his belltoper, pants very questionable about the knees, and his whilom irreproachable coat buttoned up to his throat to— 'Conceal the place where once shirt front had rested.' It was early morning, and Dick had found his way to one of the many beautiful secluded bays with which Auckland abound—nob in quest of appetite for his matutinal meal, but to obtain that meal itself in the shape of rock oysters and pipies. Dick had been some little time engaged in possessing himself of the aforesaid bivalves, and turning their in) eriors into his interior, when he became aware of approaching foot steps, and looking round perceived his ac , quaintance, Joe Wriggles, sauntering towards him. Now, Joe had done the'grand tour ot the pretty barmaids,' interspersed with ' agitating his elbows' and • handling the cue' equally with Dick, but, just when his pockets were about to declare a vacuum, he had the offer of under-helper at a livery stable, which he eagerly accepted. 4s soon as Joe was inducted into the situa tion above 'mentioned he_ had given poor Dick the 'cold shoulder,' fearing he would i be soliciting the loan of sundry portraits of her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen. But - this eventful morning he was in high good humour, and approached Eattles with out spread hand. "Hullo ! my ancient, how goes Daddy Time with you ?" " As bad, Joe, as my greatest enemy could wish ; but, by the Hokey ! you are doing it up spring-chicken fashion, new ' nut cover' west of England, ' Black Rind,' vest, pants, ' and ' comcases,' —the entire cheese. Nag- Boraping must be a perfect Eldorado and no mistake my Knight of the Curry Comb." " Sit down, Dick, in this ti-tree," said his friend, "and I will tell you all about it. Here plant these away under your ribs," Baid he, producing a large packet of sand wiches. "My appetite for the nonce is dea, funct, but my 'drinketite' at present stands .. Al at Lloyds, you bet your boots." So saying he produced a 'nor' wester' in a very respectable flask that might have held about a quart of brandy and water. It was a sight for a father to see Dick 'plant ing' the viands so unexpectedly put in his pos jeaaion; and, when the sharp edge of his appetite was somewhat taken, off, he notiGed that he was prepared to listen to his friend's narration. " Well," said Wriggles, after taking a co pious pull at the flask, "mine is about the rammest tale you ever listened to, I'll iwager. A moonstruck hobble-de-hoy I am . acquainted with wrote some verses, which he shewed me. So what did I do but copied them, and sent them to the Star, with my name m full at the bottom, and hang me if they didn't pririt them)!" "That weren't honest you know, Joe," interrupted Dick. "Never you mind that—-listen. Yester ,: day I went to the office at publishing time for a penuy read, when to my surprise one of "' the clerks handed me this letter," (placing a highly-scented missive into Dick's hand) "Bead it out, old fellow, whilst I have a pull at the pipe. Stop a moment though till I'm in full blast.—Now fire away. .Thus exhorted Dick opened the letter, and began :— "Joseph Wriggles, Esq.,—Dear Sir: Prom the first moment that reason asserted its sway within the teeming precints of my brain and my heart informed, me its inmost chamber was fully prepared tb enshrine the image of him, who was fated to rule its destinies. I determined ita warm pulsations should only beat in unison with one who • could entrance me with a poet's power. That power your sublime pen has wielded. Oh! how beautiful are its numbers ; they flow, as sweetly as the limped stream in a purling brooklet, dancing before my enchanted gaze \ like golden rays of brightest sunshine. Can I ever ? no never —tear from my remembrance I those god-like lines— When the cock with clarion shrilly Echoes wake-down plains up-hilly, I perceive, mid languid yawn, Thy form concentred in the dawn 1" , " Well, of all the beastly nonsense I ever Mad in my life," said Dick, "those lines bang the lot." "\ ''Hold your tongue, you addle-headed Jwe-Adamite. Hang me, now that you read fchero, I consider them first-chop. "Pleasures joiMemory" is a fool to it. Go on. The crust of the pie is only broken; you wil i. /now come to the plums." \ : Dick thus reprimanded again, resumed the; V leading— v 'I am an orphan, committed to tEe care frf a maiden aunt—such a dear old thing, . tfhol eta me do just as I like. ' Papa left me I - '2,000 by will, to become mine on the day I ■><Ka*Kiye at the age of eighteen, which will be L to-morrow. Come then sweet poet of my Hi dreams. I surrender it and the guidance of Jr\. life to thee. lam thine and thine only. 1 r I;J1 meet you in, the copice at the Grafton

road end; of the Domain to-morrow at noon, which hour is generally the time Aunty goes to sleep over a novel. I shall wear "a white dress with a blue sash, and that I might know you don't forgeb to put a white rose-bud in your coat. Until thevn— adieu ! — From your's admiringly, Flobinda. Parnell Rise, Monday." " There," said Joe, lazily ejecting a wreath of smoke, " what do think of that ?" " Well, if you ask my honest opinion I should say that such a letter could only ema nate from a poor afflicted female escaped from the Wliau." " Not a bit of it. I have made enquiries, and found out all about my inamorata. It's as regular as a Dutch clock. Two thousand, certain, and .aunty " warm " and whatever may be the state of her cranium's internal economy she has the face and figure of an angel." "Well," said Dick, "you're a lucky fel low. Of course, after winning Miss Florinda, the livery stables will be entirely out of the question." "I should rather think so!" replied Joe, with a look of ineffable _disgust. "Catch me horse-tickling, with the chance of a kick, for a soy. and a half per week !" " Only 30s. a-week ! Why I should have thought your screw was more than double that looking at your clothes." "Ha!ha !" laughed Wriggles. "So you thought these togs were mine—not a bit of it 1 As soon as I received my charmer's missive I hurried to Fred Larkin's lodging to beg the loan of a rig-out, but found he had that morning started for the Waikato, so I helped myself to his go-to-meeting suit—and here I am !" "Why, that appear* to be downright thiev—ahem ! Well, you know best, but to my mind you appear in a fairer way of learn ing geology at Mount E den than marrying an heiress." "Don't be alarmed, my verdant friend. Fred is just the one to enjoy a sensational bit like this, and I am sure he would have bullied me no end, if the matter had fallen through, on account of any squeamishness on my part in helping myself to his ' anatomy cases.' Why, he would do the same for you from what I've heard him say. Say, indeed ! from what dropped in the. course of conver sation a few evenings ago he is quite pre pared to do you a good turn." " Is that Fred Larkins I met the other evening at Boulter's—a tall, swarthy, good looking youDg fellow, with a'white tile." " That's the kiddy himself." " Oh, that being the case, you are pretty safe from any unpleasantness through * bor rowing ' the garment. A nobler fellow .than him does not exist in Auckland. I am not quite certain his trip up the Waikato has not for its aim the rendering of an essential service to myself. He talked of buying a sheep-farm, and putting me on it as bailiff. You know I have had experience oa the paternal acres." "3i:es, I know you have, but I never understood it went further than galloping after a fox, or walking through the stubbles with a gun under arm and dog at heel. My \ pyes ! don't I feel seedy," exclaimed Joe, passing his hand over his heated brow. Now a plunge in the btiny ocean would make me as fresh as a Derby favoiite. "Well, what more easy ? Here you are— the hour early, and the spot secluded." " It's all very well for you to say that) suppose a troop of hoodlums passed by whilst I was engaged in doing the ' side stroke,' or turning a double-somersault, a pretty chance I should have of finding Fred's habliments on my emerging from the 'vasty.' j No, no, I flatter myself Joe Wriggles is not the man to be done in that or any other way." " Well," said Dick, "My time, I am sorry to say, is anything but valuable. If you like I will stay, and you may depend upon it none other besides myself shall lay hands on them." " Will you, though," said Wriggles, "you are a brick. So here goes to make myself presentable at Parnell Rise, or wherever it it is lam to meet my f?ir Florinda. Let me see, ah ! the kiter's all right in the breast pocket—so now to copy Adam before the fall." Dick Eattle did not correct Joe's error respecting the jplace of assignation. A thousand teaming thoughts were surging round his heart. Above and before all, stood the undeniable fact that Joe Wriggles was on the high road to getting a wife and £2,000 tacked to her under false pretences. He was about to pass himself off as the author of an-, other man's poetry, (and such poetry !) And secondly, he was going to .appear before her in a dress obtained under very questionable circumstances. If "all is fair in love or war" surely the adage would apply to him equally as to Joe. His mind was made up. Seeing Joe well out in the bay, for he was an excellent swimmer and long in tiring, he he knew he had at least twenty minutes to profit by—the chance fortune seemed to have thrown in his way. Quick as thought, he ledpee °ff his own garments, and with equal celerity encased himself in Joe's (?) ; gave oae fleeting look behind to see that Wriggles was still 'at sea,' and then sped off the Do main way with the fleetness of a hare !

There are many pretty secluded spots in the Auckland Domain, but none more pretty —more secluded—than the one in which, part sitting and part reclining, a young man appears awaiting the advent of another party. Hia cheeks are slightly flushed with expectancy, and he anon gives a startled glance towards a certain bay in the direction

of Auckland harbour. Tha young man is decidedly good looking, and has an unmis takeable patrician expression of countenance. Presently the clock of the Insurance Build ings can be heard faintly striking the hour of noon. The young matf ' shakes himself together,' and listens eagerly for the slightest rustle. " What," he murmured, "if it turns out to be a hoax." Such pranks have been played upon silly conceited young men before now, and why not at fche present time ? His suspicions were considerably augmented when he reflected on the exe crable poetry the young lady had professed to been enamoured with. He had determined on his line of conduct however, and after r^hat he^had done it was sheer madness to retrace his footsteps. Hark ! —a slight rustle at no very great distance, and a mo mentary glimpse of a white skirt. Turning his back from where the sound proceeded the young man cast his regards upwards, and, ia a flute-like voice delivered himself of this fragment:— The sun may pale, the moon may fade, The stars cease giving light, But darkness ne'er can rest on earth Whilst shine your optics bright. " How beautiful—how truly beautiful !" (he hears murmured) " Second only to"— The young man continues : Oh, come sweet -wood nymph to my arms, And press me to your heart, And there remain till both our souls Their journey Heavenward start. " Lovely—very lovely !" (he hears whis pered) " But, oh ! not so divine as"— The young man interrups the colloquy— When'the cock with clarion shrilly, Echo's wake down plain—up hilly, I perceive, mid languid yawn, Thy form concentred in the dawn. An exclamation, a crackling of twigs, then hurried footsteps, and a beautiful girl is by his side, her arms around his neck, whilst with silveiy voice she falters out — " Joe, dear—dearest Joe Wriggles." The young man strikes an attitude—holds her from him at arm's length that he might drink in the full delights her rare loveliness i has awakened. He recovercs at length something like serenity, and thus delivered himself— "Joe, 2 Joe? No, dearest Florinda. Sooner may Rangitoto mountain, with the Flagstaff Hill on that, bury me beneath their united weight before I'd be so vile, so treach erous, so pitiful a miscreant as Joe Wriggles! Dearest Flo, Joe never composed tflose lines. He printed them, and then affixed his ple bian name. He to own those charms—that fellow to call those beauties his.. Thou, the spirit that must have inspired my verse? You the bride of a low, common stable helper. Forbid it Heaven. No, no. Not for Joseph ! !" " Who are you ? rare demi-god of tuneful verse," murmured Florinda. " Press me ' nearer to your heart, please !" "My name is Bichard Rattle, darling— poor, very poor, for I do not possees the two first syllables of your beloved name ; but I am a gentleman, and the son of one—it is idle to enter into the particulars of my past life, sufficient to say I have been thoughtless but not crimeful. Take me dearest as your chief worldly treasure, and I will take you." "This is bliss, unutterable bliss," whis pered the maiden. "It seems like some de licious dream," and then she murmured— Thy form's concentred in the dawn. "Let us dispel for a time the dream, and descend to realities. Let me beg you will allow me to accompany you home. I must see youi kind-hearted Aunt before I go back to the city." This Florinda readily acceded to, for she was her aunt's especial pet, and she well knew no harsh words would greet her arrival back. . . On being presented to the young lady's re lative, Dick requested a private interview, which was readily accorded him. He fully unburthened himaelf to the really kind hearted old lady ; but a most unexpected surprise awaited him. Having stated who and what his family were, the old lady dis covered that Dick's mother was her first cousin by the female eide, and her loved playfellow and schoolmate. She thereupon insisted upon our hero considering her house his home, and thrust upon his acceptance a. weighty purse, a portion of which Dick laid out at Cosgrave's and Coombe's, and by six o'clock that same evening Fred Larkin's clothes were again reposigg in the drawer from which Joe Wriggles had surreptitiously abstracted them. Dick and Florinda are married and living in the Waikato. Mra Battles fortune en abled her husband to become part-owner of the farm Fred Larkins went up that district to purchase. Their aunt resides with them, and has thrown aside novel-reading and has taken amazingly to the mysteries of the dairy. Florinda in time found out that, although Joe Wriggles did not compose 'When the cock,'etc., neither did her hus band ; but he is the author of two poems, dearer—far dearer—to her than any verse, living poems, speaking poems, that nightly in their prayers say—' God bless dear papa, God bless dear mama.' One little Trot is her great aunt's especial pet, who calls her ' the little dairy-woman.' The other in fine weather occasionally rides out with hia papa when he goes round the farm, and Dick has promised him when he is old enough he shall 'dive*de pow.'

As for Wriggles the rage he was in when he found Dick had levanted with Fred Lar kin's clotheß is not to be described. He swore most horrible oaths, and danced about the ti-tree like a maniac. Florinda's letter having gone with the garments he was utterly unable to remember where the appointment Wi& made for meeting even if he had been in proper trim to have kept it; so with mat tered curses and tows of vengeance he went back to town in Dick's habliments. Great was hia chagrin on the following day, when he applied for a warrant to arrest Battle for theft, he found the clothes had been returned —nicely brushed and put awaj. Neither

did it improve his temper when, having been ©rdered by his master some time after, to drive a wedding carriage to Parnell Rise, he recognized in the bridegroom Dick Rattle, .and found out on enquiry that the brides Christian name was Florinda.

BARBARA LEIGH.

By John Blackman,

A middle-aged spinster is Barbara Leigh. Who loves just a wee drop of rum in her tea, Who follows her fancies and lives much alone, In a small detached cottage, Miss Barbara's own. Though somewhat reserved, she is fond of a chat, She talks with her maid and caresses her cat; She has little to do, and spends many hours In pacing her garden and training her flowers; She is smart in her way, with a fondness for dress, And sometimes appears as though full of distress , Yet what in the world has this lady to fear, With an income of nearly three hundred a year. She dines, takes her sherry, then stirs up the fare, And dozes and dreams she's the wife of the squire, Till something sighs, " Barbara, oh, 'tis too late For you to be thinking of linding a mate. Tour years and your beauty are passing away, Your ringlets, once raven, are sprinkled with gray. Then the ghost in the wall, which she never can see, Breaks the afternoon nap of Miss Barbara Leigh. I've wondered and wondered, whate'or of unrest Could shadow her features and burden her breast, And more, when I learnt that the ghost of her house Had been caught by her cat, and was only a mouse ; And more, when she has not to labour for bread, "When of ill-favoured want she can foster no dread; Her cottage is freehold, her future is clear, With an income of nearly three hundred a year; Her time is her own, she can work or can play, With only the doctor and taxes to pay; Yet, like some high ladies, Miss Barbara Leigh, Is seldom from headache or nervousness free, But such little ailments to folk are unknown, Who are active, and useful, and earn ere they own ; But some, like Miss Barbara, humour their ills, And must have their medical man and his pills, And a bottle of medicine their whims to allay, To be shaken and taken three times in a day. The doctor, of course, is attentive and kind, And knows such diseases are oft of the mind; His med'cine is harmless enough to be sure, But then all such patients 'tis best to secure, And in coloured water there seems such a charm, If it does them no good, it will do them no harm. 'Tis pleasant Miss Barbara's cottage to see, On the elm-shaded side of the daisy-clad lea; Where she might be happy, and settled, and blest, With nothing to ruffle her life or her rest. But happiness dwells not with those we call great, Nor seeks for a home 'mid the splendors of state ; But often she sits 'neath the woodbine and rose, Where the poor peasant Bleeps in his healthful repose. And there by her cot, 'neath her sycamore tree, The years might pass sweetly with Barbara Leigh; With nature and plenty, with leisure and ease, With no tyrant husband to soften and please. With a cow and a pony, with turkeys and geese, With fields dotted over with emblems of peace, With larks gaily carolling over the corn, With thrushes and blackbirds to wake her at mom, With pigeons and rabbits, and fowls of the moor, Yet Barbara murmurs, and thinks she is poor. Spring comes to her cottage and blesses her flowers, With honied embraces, and soft vernal' showers, Then summer comes gadding the scene to complete With butterflies round her and pearls at her feet, Then autumn comes calmly with treasures untold, AVhich merchants exchange for the silver and gold. Then winter comes blowing with aspect severe, And flin»s a white robe o'er the sleep of the year, And warms the dull clod for the life of the flower, And whispers of wisdom, and morcy and power, But Barbara feels nought of winter's cold snows, Of heartache and hunger which know no repose, Her bed is well-feathered, from evils secure, Still Barbara murmurs, and thinks she is poor. Miss Barbara, after the heat of the day, May be seen walking out 'mong the youthful and gay, Where windows are dressed out with taste and with

tact, Whore drapers and milliners strive to attract, With dresses and hats, latest fashions fram Trance, To pray in on Sundays, in week-eves to dance; And one of the smallest Miss Barbara buys, Yet it fails to give pleasure—she goes home and sighs, " Oh, dear me, this hat is so foolish and small, Oh, dear me, it does not become me at all. Should I wear it the folks will be staring at me, And say, ' What a fright is Miss Barbara Leigh.' When I look in the glass I am ready to faint, I feel I must soon have recourse to the paint. My hair, once so black, is now turning to grey ; Ah, what doeß it mean ? am I passing away ? Are my chances all gone, all my young lovers fled?" And she Binks in despair, with a pain in her head. • One word in your heariug, Miss Barbara Leigh, In your cot in the Bhade of the sycamoro tx%ee; Your fortune is ample, your prospects are fair, And you may from your income have something to

spare For the.poor and unhappy, whose fortuneß ejK le^B, By folly or accident brought to distress ; Oli, give up that weo drop of rum in your tea, Aud do what you can in your cot by the lea, Xo scatter sweet thoughts, life's dull crosses beyond. O'er earth's deeper shadows and sloughs of desijond. Some labour of love, too, perchanco you may find Xo charm away dulness and lighten your mind, May cause some lorn soul with life's evils to cope, And cheer some sad spirit with breathingß of hope, And shew the advantage of living by rule, And teach on the Sabbath in some Sabbath school; Look round you and see, thero are children untaught, And homes unadorned by the wonders of thought. Thero are hearts that would gladden 'neath kindlier

words, With music far sweeter than that of the birds: And bless the instructress that lightens their cares, With some of thoae blessings which opulence shares, For one may be poor in an indolent sphere, With a fortune of nearly three hundred a year. Oh, would yoii be happy, Miss Barbara Leigh, From pills, indigestion, and medicine free, Set to work, do some good, there are souls to be saved, As well as your own little ills to be braved. Never mind little hats and fine silken array, For fashions, like mortals, are passing away. Let your thoughts o'er the world of humanity range, And surely will come the more beautiful change, Your heart become lighter, your spirit aspire, Like the lark heavenward singing, still higher and

higher. Your efforts are needed, Heaven's blessings secure, Be useful, be happy, and murmur no more.

THE COMING WIFE.

How She Helps her Husband Under Difficulties—Patience and Sunshine.

She's a little bit of a woman, all patience and sunshino, and I'd spoil the best silk-hat that money could buy for the privilege of lending her my umbrella in a rain-storm. She's married and she's got an old rhi oceros of a husband. He makes it a prac tice to come home tight at eleven o'clock ! every other night, and has for years, and he oan'fc remember that she ever gave him a cross word about it. When he falls into the hall she is waiting co close the door, and help him back to the sitting-room, where a good fire awaits him. She draws off his boots, unbuttons his collar, helps him off with his coat, and all the time she is saying: " Poor Henry ! How sorry lam that you j had this attack of vertigo ! lam afraid that you will be found dead by the road-side some night." " " Whazzer mean by yerzhigo ?". he growls ; but she helps him off with his vest, and pleasantly continues : " I'm so glad you got home all right. I hope the day will come when you can pass more of your time at home. It is dreadful how your business drives you." ' "Whaz bizshaess? whaz ver talking 'bout ?" he replies. "Poor one—how hot your head is !" she continues : and' presently he. breaks down and v;eeps, and exclaims : " Yez, zur—zic's a 'orse - -wearing zelf out if host's can—wishzi was dead J" Next morning Bhe never refers to the Bub ject, but pleasantly inquires how he slept, and if his mind is clear. His boots may be missing, and he yells out: :■'" Whar'n thunder's my boots ?" "Right here, my daw," she replies, and she hands them but, all nicely blacked np. If she wants a dress, .or a hat, or a cloak and he yelk out that hoiwhold expanse arc eating him up, sb« never "lassea" his back, nor tells kirn that sat oovld bare married a Congressman, nor declares that she will write to hw mother and tell her just how it is. — ;

•'That's so,, my dear—times are hard," she says, and she gets up as good a dinner as if he had left her fifty dollars.

He may come home tight at supper-time, but she is not shocked. She remarks that it is an unexpected pleasure to have him home so early, and she pretends not to notice his stupid look He sees three chairs where there is but one, and in trying to sit down he strikes the floor like the fall of a derrick. " Whazzer jaw zhat chair 'way for?" he yells, and she replies : " It's that hole in the carpet—l knew you would stumble !" and she helps him up and brings him a strong cup of tea. They do not keep a servant, and when cold weather came she never thought of planking herself down in a chair opposite him and saying: " Now, then, you'll either get up and light the fires or there won't be any lighted—mark that, old baldhead 1" JNo, she didn't resort to any such base and tyrannical measures. When daylight conies she slips out of bed, makes two fires, warms his socks, and then, bending over him, she whispers: "Arise, darling, and greet the festive morn !" He's sick sometimes, and I've known that woman to coax him for two straight hours to take the doctor's medicine, turn over his pillow twenty-two times, keep a wet cloth on his head, pare his corn down, and then wish that she had a quail to make him some soup. When he gets into a fight down town and comes home with his ears bitten up and his nose pointed to the north-east, she inquires how the horse happened to run away with him, and she says she is so thankful that he wasn't killed. She has an excuse for any thing, and she never admits that anyone but herself is to blame about aaything. Lor bless her—l hope she'll slip into Heaven and never be asked a question.— Detriot Free Press.

THE FOOL OF FIVE FORKS.

BRET HARTE'S LATEST STORY.

AND ONE OF THE BEST HE HAS

WRITTEN.

[FROM THE " NEW YOKK TIMES."]

He lived alone. Ido not think this pecu liarity^ arose from any wish to withdrawfhis foolishness from the rest of. the camp, nor was it probable that the combined wisdom of Five Forks ever drove him into exile. My imprsßsion is that he lived alone from choice—a choice he made long before the camp indulged in any criticism of his mental capacity. He was much given to moody reticenoe, and, although to outward appear ances a strong man, was always complaining of ill health. Indeed, one theory of his isolation was that it afforded him better opportunities for taking medicine, of which he habit ually consumed large quantities. His folly first dawned upon Five Forks, through the post-office windows. He was for a long time the only man who wrote home by every mail, his letters being always directed to the same person—a woman. Now it bo happened that the bulk of the live forks correspondence was usually the other way ; there were man; letters received —the majority being in the female hand— but very few answered. The men received them indifferently, or as a matter of course; a few opened and read them on the spot with a barely repressed smile of self-cone ;it, or quite as frequently glanced over them with undis guised impatience. Some of the letters began with "My dear husband," and some were never called for. But the fact that the only regular correspondent of Five Forks never received any reply became at last quite noterious. Consequently, when an envelope was received bearing the stamp of the "Dead Letter Office " addressed to the fool under the more conventional title of " Cyrus Hawkins," there was quite a fever of excitement. I do not know hew the secret leaked out, but it was eventually known to the camp that the envelope con tained Hawkin's own letters returned. This was the first evidence of his weakness ; any man who repeatedly wrote to a woman who did net reply must be a fool. I think Hawkins suspected that his folly was known to the camp, but he took refuge in symptoms of chills and fever, which he at once developed, and effected a diversion with three bottles of Indian chologogue and two boxes of pills. At all events, at the end of a week he resumed a pen, stiffened by tonics, with all his old epistolatory pertinacity. This time the letters had a new address. In those days a popular belief obtained in the mines that Luck particularly favoured the foolish and unscientific. Consequently, when Hawkins struck a " pocket " in the hill-side near his solitary cabin, there was but little surprise. "He will sink it all- in the next hole," was the prevailing belief, predicated upon the usual manner in which the possessor of " nigger luck " disposed of his fortune. To every body's astonishment, Hawkins, after taking out about eight thou sand dollars and exhausting the pocket, did hot proßpect for another. The camp then waited patiently to see what he would do with his money. I think, however, that it was with the greatest difficulty their indigna tian was kept from taking the form of a personal assault when it became known that lie had purchased a draft for eight thousand dollars ia farmr of "that woman." More than this, it was finally whispered that the

draft was returned to him as his letters had been,, and that he was ashamed to reclaim the money at the express office. "It wouldn't fee a bad speculation to go East, get some gal for a hundred dollars to dress herself up and represent' tliat bag, and freeze on to that eight thousand," suggested a far-seeiDg financier. I may state here that •we always alluded to Hawkin's fair unknown as "The Hag" without having, lam con fident, the least justification for that epithet. That the Fool should gamble seemed eminently fit and proper. That he should occasionally win a large stake according to that popular theory which I have recorded in the preceding paragraph, appeared also a not improbable or inconsistent fact. That he should, however, break the faro bank which Mr John Hamlin had set up in Five Forks, and carry off a sum variously estimated at from ten to twenty thousand dollars, and not return, the next day, and loose the money at the same table, really appeared incredible. Yet such was the fact. A day or two passed without any known investment of Mr Hawkins's recently acquired capital. "If he allows to send it to that Hag," said one prominent citizen, •' suthin ought to be done ! It's jest runnin' the reputation of this yer camp—this sloshin' around o' capital on non-residents ez don't claim it !" " It's set-tin. an example o' ex travagance," said another, " ez is little better nor a swindle. Thais morn five men in this camp thet, hearin' thet Hawkins hed sent' home eight thousand dollars, must jest rise up aud send home their hard earnin's too ! And, then, to think thet that eight thousand was only a bluff, after all, and thet it's lyin' there on call in Adams and Co.'s bank! Well! I say it's one o'them "things a vigilance committee oughter look into !" When there seemed no possibility of this repetition of Hawkins's folly, the anxiety to know what he had really done with his money became intense. At last a self Ap pointed committee of four citizens dropped artfully, but to outward appearances care lessly, upon him. in his seclusion. When some polite formalities had been exchanged, and some easy vituperation of a backward season offered by each of the parties, Tom Wingate approached the subject: — " Sorter dropped heavy on Jack Hamlin, the other night, didn't ye ? He allows you didn't give him no show for revenge. I said you wasn't no such d—d fool—dindn't I, Dick ?" continued the artful Wingate, ap pealing to a confederate. " Yes," said Dick promptly. " You said twenty two thousand dollars wasn't goin' to be thrown around recklessly. You said Cyras had suthin' better to do with his capital," superadded Dick, with gratuitous mendacity. "I disremember now, what partiekler investment you said he was goin to make with it he continued, appealing with easy indifference to his friend. Of course Wingate did not. r,eply, but looked at the Fool, who, with a troubled face was rubbing his legs softly. After a pause he turned deprecatingly toward his visitors. "Ye didn't enny o' ye ever hey a sort of tremblin' in your legs—a kind o' shakiness from the knee down ? Suthin'," he con- : tinued, slightly brightening with, his topic, I " suthin' that begins like chills, and yet ain't chills. A kind o' sensation of goneness here, and a kind o' feelin' as if you might die suddent ! When Wright's Pills don't some how reach the spot, and Quinine don't fetch you?" Ko 1" said Wingate with a curt directness, and the air of authoratively responding for hia friends. "No, never had. You was speakin' of this yer investment.", " And your bowels all the time irregular ?" continued Hawkins, blushing under Win gate's eye, and yet clinging desparingly to his theme like a a ship-wrecked mariner to his plank. ■ Wingate did not reply, but glanced signi ficantly at the rest. Hawkins evidently saw this recognition of his mental deficiency,* and said apologetically, " You are saying *bu thin' about my investment ?" . w "Yes," said Wingate, so rapidly as almost to take Hawkins's breath away. " The in vestment you made in—" ! "Rafferty's Ditch," said Pool timidly. For a moment the visitors could only stare blankly at each other. " Rafferty's Ditch, v the one notorious failure of Five Forks ! ftafferty's Ditch, the impracticable scheme of an utterly unpractical man; Rafferty's Ditch a ridiculous plan for taking water that Could not be got to a place where it wasn't ' wanted I .Rafferty's Ditch thai; had buried the fortunes of Rafferty and twenty wretched stockholders in its muddy depths ! "And that's it—is it ?" said Wingate, after a gloomy pause. '" That's it I I see is all now, boya. That's how ragged Pat Rafferty went down to San Francisco yester day in store clothes, and his wife and four 1 children went off in a kerridge to Sacramento. That's, why them ten workmen of hia ez hedn't a cent to bless themselves with was playin' billiards last night, and eatin' isters. That's whar that money kum from—one hundred dollars-to pay for that long ad. yertisement of the new issue of Ditch Btoek in the ' Times' yesterday. That's why them six strangers were booked at the Magnolia hotel yesterday. Don't you see—if thet's the money—and that Fool." . , The Fool sat silent.. The visitors arose without a word. ; , j "You never took any of them Indian 1 ■•• .;...

■■■^^^^i—■■-,. - - -»- ■ |.i'y ;• \[ : 7egetable Pills ?" asked Hawkins timidly of • iVingate. i.*"* 6;1 " No," roajged Wfngate as he opened iho " They tell me that took with the Panacea ■ — they was out o' the Panacea when I OT«ni - ;ofthe drug store last week —they say \h& ; . . ;ook§vtiih the Panacea. They alway affect i certen' core"-—. Bub this time, Wingate md his disgusted companions had retired— slammiDg the door on the Fool and his ail- . oients. }'■■■ Nevertheless in six months the whole affair was forgotten, the money had been spent, •-"•■i the " Ditch " had been purchased jby a com pany of Boston capitalists, fired by the glow ing desctiptioa of an eastern tourist, who . had spent one drunken night at Five Forks,, A and I think even the mental condition oft Hawkins might have remained undisturbed ' i by criticism but for a singular incident. It was during an exciting political cam paign, when parly feeling ran high, that the irascible Captain McFadden, of Saoramento, ' visited E ive Forks. During a heated dis cussion in the Prairie Eose saloon words " passed between the captain and the Hon. Calhoun Bungstarter, ending in a challenge. * £fjri The captain bore the infelix reputation, of « ■'" being a notorious duellist, and a dead shot The captain was unpopular ; the captain wa ■ X believed to have been sent by the opposition . "o for a deadly purpose, and the captain more-;. J*< ' [ over was a stranger. lam sorry to say thatf ■■}' <i\ with Five Forks tbia latter condition did not ' H carry the quality of sanctity or reverence-, : <-'■'■ that usually obtains among otheir nomads. - iv; v There was consequently some little hesita- ' 'H tion when the captain turned upon the . .'■ ■[ crowd, and asked for someone to act as his ,--. $^f\ friend. To everybody's astonishment, and. 'jt: ■';<; to the indignation of many, the Fool stepped" '"*;■ '>. >J forward, and offered himself in that capacity. - I I do know whether Captain McFadden '.'. would have chosen him voluntarily, bnt he ' • was constrained, in the absence of a better _, man to accept his services. \\ The duel never took place ! The prelim- f maries were all arranged, the spot indicated, the men present with their seconds, there j] was no interruption from without, there was* . ' * no explanation or apology passed-~-bnt the '■ duel did not take place. It may readily be M imagined that these facts, which were all !> y jf, known to Five Forks, threw the whole com- 'HB munity into a fever of curiosity. The mxjjfiil 1 cipals, the surgson, and one second left town - i the next day. Only the fool remained. He • i resisted all questioning, declaring himself, held in honour not to divulge—in short con- ,■ > ducted himself with consistent and exasper- u% ;;■ atiDg folly. It was not uutil six months had passed that Col. fctarbottle, the sreond 8f ; [ Calhoun Bungstarter, in a moment of weak ness—superinduced by the, Bocial glass t-con: j descended to explain.- I should not <?(o%J^^ tice to the parties if I did not givo that ex- ' planation in the colonel's own worda^ I '■ may remark in passing that the characteria- •; tic dignity of Col. Starbottle always became intensified by stimulants, and that by the same process all sense of humour was utterly " With the understanding that I am ad dressing myself confidentially'to. men of : ' honour," said the colonel, elevating his chest . above the bar-room counter of the Prairie « Eose saloon. "I trust that it will not.be ■■■ necessary fcr me to prootect myself from j levity, as I was forced to do in Sacramento -| on the only other occasion when I entered • into an explanation of this delicate affair by ' '" —er —er —calling the individual to a per- | sonal account—er ! Ido not believe," added the colonel, Blightly waving his glass! of liquor" o> in the air with a graceful gesture of courteous ■, deprecation—"knowing what I do of the I present company—that such a course of ac- | tion is required here. Certainly not— sir— \ in the home of Mr Hawkins—er—the gentle- '.', man who represented Mr Bungatarter, whose conduct, ged, sir, is worthy of praise, blank me 2 , • \ Aparently satisfied with the gravity and respectful attention of his listener, Col Starbottle smiled relentingly and sweetly, closed his eyes half dreamily, as if to recall his wandering thoughts, and began :-— , "As the spot selected was nearest the tenement of Mr Hawkins, it was agreed that the;parties should meet there. They did bo promptly at half-past 6. .The morning being chilly, Mr Hawkins extended the hospit alities of his house with a bottle of Bourbon , .whisky—of which all partook hut myself. /■ The reason of that exception is,;l believe, ' . well known. It is my invariable 'custom to take braady—a wine-glassful in a cap of strong coffee,., immediately on ming. Ifc stimulates the functions, sir, without pro ducingjany blank derangement of the nerves." The barkeeper, to whom; as an expert, the colonel had graciously imparted this infor-\ mation, nodded approvingly, and the coloii^^ ; ann'd breathless Biience,'went on :—■ • -'We were about, twenty- mirmtj^|M^^ ■- . reaching the spot. The ground was.measnred,. f the weapons were loaded, when Mr Bung starter confided to me the information that he was unwell, and in great Pain ! On con sultation with Mr Hawkins, it appeared that his principal in a distant part of the field was also iv great Pain. The-, symptoms were Buch as^Me^icars^r~w^tt|4 T 'rprphQn^ice' <*choleraic." I say would have pronoui>i.'f,<3, for on^ exauiiuatiou the surgoon was aleo found to be—or—in Pain, and/'l/regtot to say, expressing himself in language unb^com jig the occasion, i Hia impression .was that •

SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND fiVENlfffl STAR.