The Little Old Gentleman.

' Talking of that,' said Mr. Wilson, get ting up and poking the fire vigorously, "it reminds me of a little incident that occurred to me in my young days.' The scene is the best parlour of the Wallsend Arms at Cossop on the Sore, ■where there is a snug meeting of the Commissioners of Public Sewers for the district. The small, silver-headed old gentleman who is pokiDg the fire is a retired surgeon of the town ; his colleague is Col. I'owster of Cossop priory, a tall, grizzled ex-cavalry officer; and the red i'aced, merry-looking man in.the corner is a local lawyer, the clerk to the board. Wine and biscuits are on the table. There as nothing particular to be done, but they are bound by Act of Parliament to sit till two o'clock, and it is now barely one. * It wouldn't do to smoke, I suppose ?' says ike colonel, looking dolefully out of the window ; a wet, dripping day, a High street deserted of passengers, depression prevailing everywhere. ' Ifc wouldn't do to smoke, eh ?'

1 Well,' replies the lawyer doubtfully, 'perhaps it wouldn't be quite regular, eh? What do you say, Mr. Wilson ?' ' Personally* I haven't the slightest objection,' replies Wilson ; ' but whether public opinion would quite sanction the members of a public board—on public business What do you think, colonel ?' * No, no ; I see that —I quite see that,' ■said the colonel, relinquishing his hold of his cigar case, and yawning dolefully. ' Try a pinch of snuff, colonel,' said Wilson, producing a little horn snuff-box, and tapping the lid with his knuckle. 11 Public opinion can't object to snuff.' The colonel stretched out his hand for the snuffbox, took a pinch, and then <examieed the box in a listless way. ' That box,' went on Wilson, 'is con nected with a curious incident in my early life.' ' Well, let's hear it, Wilson,' said the colonel good-naturedly ; ' anything's better than sitting here doing nothing.' 'Well, when I first joined the medical school of St. Joseph's,' began Mr. Wilson, seating himself by the fire with a glass of sherry in his hand, which he sipped now and then in the pauses of his narrative * when I first joined the medical school, and made my acquaintance with the dissecting table, .there was a person in the habit of frequenting the dissecting room whose position and calling were for a long time a puzzle to me. He was a fine, tall man, well dressed, generally in a "blue swallow-tailed coat with brass but tons,- a canary-coloured waistcoat, with kerseymere trowsers and Hessian boots : quite a buck, in fact; and he would walk up and down, the room dangling a great bunch of seals that hung at his fob, and gave himself as many airs as a queen's physician. The professors seemed to know him well, and treated him vtith a sort of sarcastic deference; he would often be called out and be closeted with the authorities of the school. Altogether he held an important though unrecognized position at St. Joseph's. The elder students, when I asked them about him, only mystified me, and at last my curios ity became so strong that I determined to satisfy it at the fountain head. So one day when I happened to be alone with him \a the dissecting-room I said to him: ' Mr. Blackstock' (that was the gentle man's name), ' I see you here a great deal, pray excuse me for asking you what is the exact position you occupy in the medical profession ?' He turned, rather red, and looked down upon me in a haughty kind of way. ' Sir,' he said, ' I am purveyor-general to the faculty !•'' • Purveyor —exactly,' said the colonel, as Wilson paused to sip his wine. ' Had 'em in the Crimea. I recollect—provided medical stores, and so on. Ah, your friend was a purveyor, then, Wilson ?' 'Aha! not that sort of a purveyor, colonel. Perhaps you might make a guess at his particular line. Give it up, eh ? Well, sir, they were subjects— subjects as we called them; in plain terms —bodies.' ' Body-snatcher, eh ?' cried the lawyer. • Ought to have been hanged.' f Well, I don't know whether that wasn't his eventful fate ; but there were many worse fellows than Blackstock. I'll tell you a little incident that illustrates his kindness of heart. I think I may almost say that he saved my life. ' I i must tell you that Blackstock had a little dog called Bingo, the most extraor dinary dog you ever saw. He was a yellow dog, of a sickly, unwholesome yellow, without a particle of hair on his body, but a tuft at the tip of his tail. He was always with his master. 11 mentioned Bingo,' said Wilson, with a low chuckle,' because he's necessary to my story : and I may remark, that not withstanding his repulsive appearance, there was" something very intelligent—l might say almost human —in his expres sion, And yet, he was morose in disposition, attached to medical students, whom he recognized with marvellous instinct, but to the rest of the world, sul len and defiant. But to proceed. One evening, or rather, I should say one morning, at a very early hour—between 2 and 3—l happened to be returning with a friend one Jackson, from some scene of gaiety to my rooms in Marylebone. On our way we passed the church of Saint Giles Over-reach. Perhaps it wasn t Saint Giles, for my memory is not always accurate on these minor points, but, any how, a church with a large church-yard about it, that was surrounded by a high wall, on the top of which was a very spiky • chevaux de frise.' The public footway Tan close beside this wall, hardly a foot in width, and the road was very bad just then; in fact, at that season of the year — mid-winter —an impassable plough or quagmire. It is not yesterday I am talking about, mind you ; in fact, it was before the time of street gas-lamps. The road was dimly lighted with an oil-lamp that swung in a bracket from, the church yard wall, and the next light was round the corner,* quite out of sight. Weil, my friend and I were pushing along at full speed, in a very cheerful mood, laughing and singing; but when we came to the foot of the church wall, all looked so gloomy and ghostlike, the black dank wall, the sullen lamp throwing a sort of sickly gleam on the sea of mud below, "P°lr* involuntarily we grew silent and /?# h to a stand. 'Here goes, Jack!' |Ik| dd my friend, and scampered hastily |si ma tho footpath, while I followed him O J full speed. It was narrow enough, and J-J <m» of the utonei were loose, andjiif you

lost your balance, you were up to your kneels in black, mud ; so that I had enough to do to °cc where I put my feet without looking aloft. All of a sudden, rap-bang I struck my head against something something that gave way, and swung backward and forward, hitting me at each swing, and bringing me to a complete stand-still. Well, I cast my eyes aloft, and 'saw, perched on the top of the church wall, sitting on the ' cheveaux de frise ' as comfortably as you, colonel, would sit a saddle, a little man in black, who was holding a rope in his hand, and from this rope hung a long narrow package, wrapped up rin black tarpaulin —the package, in fact, against which I had knocked my head.'

1A body, probably ?' suggested the colonel.

' A very fair inference,' said Wilson. 'Well, I must tell you that it wars- an understood tiling in the profession that none of us should \ake notice of anything of that kind. Public feeling was very high on the point, and I wouldn't Imve given sixpence for the life of anybody caught in the act; while the true interests of humanity demanded that the medical schools should have the means of teaching practical anatomy. So I should have scampered on, and taken no more notice, but as ill luck would have it, a dog began to- bark from inside the churchyard. It was impossible to mistake that bark—it was Bingo's. Some spirit of mischief entered into me, and I cried out in a gruff disguised voice : ' What! Blackstock. are you busy, then, to-night?' and ran on. For a moment my voice seemed to have struck terror into .the hearts of the resurrectionists. The body came down with a crash, and turning, I saw the little man sitting astride the wall like one stupefied. But the next moment he dropped softly down and pursued us. Well, we ran like the wind —we were both good runners —and yet we could not shake off these pursuing footsteps. The faster we went the faster they to seemed follow ; and I assure you my blood ran cold in my veins till turning the corner of the street, we met a party of the watch with staves and lanterns, at whose appearance our followers hastily decamped ; and having explained to the watchmen that our flight was a mere youthful frolic, we reached my friend's lodgings in safety. I sat for sometime within, talking over the adventure, and then made my way to my own rooms, which w-ere at the end of the next street, looking o\er my shoulder at every corner to make sure that I was not being watch ed. Well, gentlemen, when 1 reached my own door, imagine my chagrin to find that I had lost the key. It was a large street door key—latch keys were little in use in those days—and I could not think how I had managed to loose it; but there was the- fact, it was gone, and 1 was locked out in the street tins cold, dreary, winter's night, I knocked in vain ; my landlady slept at the top of the house, and was as deaf as a post. I roused the neighbour hood, but made no impression upon her. Then I returned to my friend's lodgings ; but had no better fortune there, and, tired and cold, I was obliged to patrol the neighbourhood for three or four hours before I could gain admittance. I was not without fear that my friend of the churchyard might be dogging my foot steps ; but I saw nothing to excite further alarm. Apparently, we had thrown him off the trail altogether.

' As soon as I got back to my own room I went to bed and did not get up until nightfall. The cold seemed to have got into my very bones. In the meantime, my landlady was loud in her complaints against me for the loss of her key ; and as soon as I rose up and had dressed, I was obliged to go lo a neighbouring lock smith to try and replace it. But the locksmith had no key that would fit ; and I found that it would cost as little to have the lock replaced as to have a key made on purpose. I ordered a lock, therefore, very unwillingly, for it would cost four or five shillings, a sum that I could ill spare. I was sitting in a meditative mood, depressed by rheum, and chagrined at-the waste of so much money, when the lock smith, who had left the house half an hour before, having taken the measurement for the lock, returned, and asked to see me. • ' ' I have good news for you, sir,' he said, smiling, ' the key has been found, and you will be able to get it back for nothing. Such a nice, merry old gentle man has found it, sir ! I've brought him with me to see you, and I'll bring him up-stairs, if you'll allow me.' • A merry old gentleman he proved to be, with tightly strapped trousers, very curly brimmed hat, and a spencer. •' Ah, merry dogs !' he cried, when he saw me. ' Gad, I wish I was young again. Oh, what games, what jolly games ! Keys ! bless my heart, what do we care about keys; fling 'em away in the street, bless my heart !' And so the old gentleman ran on. The locksmith took his leave; but the merry old fellow remained, laughing and.chatting away. '' Then you really have found my key sir? I am very much obliged by the trouble you have taken. Pray, how did you find me out ?' '' Ha, ha !' cried the old gentleman ; 'lose a watch, go to the watchmaker; find a key, go to the locksmith.' 1' All in good time, in good time. It isn't here, my boy; I hadn't a pocket big enough. I should have been obliged to hire a coach to carry it; ha, ha ! You must come and-fetch it, that's the fact. Come and crack a bottle with me, you and your gay young friend; jolly dogs; ha, ha!' ' I was little disposed to turn out; but my new friend was so pressing in his invitation ; and being anxious to recover my key, I was persuaded to accompany bim. We called upon my friend, who, being rather a gay young fellow, and fond of wine, made no objection to a bottle; and so we accompanied the old gentleman home in a coach which he hired, to his house, full of life and merriment all the time. ' The old gentleman's house hardly corresponded in appearance with the character of its owner. It was decidedly dark and gloomy, in a low-lying neigh bourhood, somewhere near the river. But the old gentleman had boasted so much of his cellar, and had given us in his conversation such glimpses of his hospitable ways of life, that we did not doubt we should be well entertained, not withstanding the unpromising look of his abode. "Now, my boys,' lie cried pushing us

in before him, 'first door to the right. And I'm away to the cellar to get a bottle of my very best. In the meantime, refresh yourselves with a pinch of snuff.' He gave us a candle and his snuff-box, the identical little box I now hold in my hand and left us in a low-roofed villanous-look ing chamber, its walls black with the dirt of years, festooned with cobwebs, and furnished with only a few broken chairs and a table.

'' An eccentric, evidently,' said my friend, when the old gentleman had left us alone; 'rich, too, I'll be bound. Perhaps, as he seems to have taken a fancy to us, the old fellow will make us his heirs.'

' He kept us waiting so long that we began to be uneasy—late at night, in a strange place, the aspect of which was not reassuring; and yet we could hotdottbfc the respectability of the little old gentle man. Presently we heard his voice as he sang and shouted merrily, and he returned, carrying in one hand a bottle, and in the other swinging on his finger my key. As he entered, we noticed, for the fiist time, a tremendous scar below his right eye, the result, as it seemed, of some old wound.

''JNffjw, my lads, I won't leave you in this old lumber room any longer; come into my own little snug and we'll crack a bottle and make a merry night of it. We've got the key, we've got the key— And we wont go home till morning?' shouted the old gentleman in the most hillarious voice, snatching up the candle and leading the way through a door at the further end of the room that opened into a narrow passage. Just as he entered the passage the old gentleman, as if b} r acci dent, dropped the candle, so that every thing was in profound darkness. ' ' Come along, come alonj ; we shall find a light at the other end,' called the old gentleman, merrily. ' Give me your

arm, young sir, give me your arm. 1 I was following him without thought or hesitation, as was tuy friend, when all of a sudden i heard, from what seemed the bow-els of the earth, just in front of me, the barking of a dog; it was Bingo's bark among a thousand. ' Back, back !' I cried, recoiling with such force that I dragged the old gentleman several paces backward ; he lost his hold ; I heard a cry, a splash, ' Back, back !' thrusting my friend into the room we had just quitted. The door behind us had not swung to, for Jackson had not passed quite through into the passage, and there was such terror and warning in my voice that he sprang back instinctively and regained the room we had left. The door went to with a bang ; it closed with a spring-lock ond there was no means of opening it. We stood together in the darkness, our arms clasped togethrr, not daring to move t-o one side or the other, lest some pitfall might open beneath us. We saw at once that we had been entrapped into this house to be made away with. We had been lured into an oubliette, from which we should hardly escape with life. We had been hunted down by body-snatchers, whoso safety demanded our destruction. ' At this moment a light appeared be neath the door by which we had first entered, and presently the door itself was opened, and a face appeared, pale, ghastly and drawn up with strong emotion. A dog ran forward, bavking loudly. Next moment, the dog began to jump and fawn

upon us. ' Ha, Bingo !' I cried in a voice Hiat I tried to make calm and assured. ' Where's your master, Bingo ? Where's the pur veyor ?' 'The man stepped into the room sud denly and flashed his light upon us. It was Blackstock. 'What! Mr. Wilson,' he cried. * Mr. Jackson! Ah! I ncvor dreamt it was you. Fray,1 what are you doing here ?'

' We have come here by invitation,' I said unconcernedly, ' to drink a bottle of wine with a little old gentleman.'

' Ah!' said Blackstock, with a forced kind of laugh, ' I know him. Have you been in there with him ?' pointing to the passage. ' No,' I said ; ' no. He left us just now, and hasn't come back.'

' Blackstock looked first at me, then at the doe, which was wriggling and fawning at my feet. ' Ah,' he said, ' you were always kind to Bingo, sir. Step this way.'

' We followed him, cautiously enough, down a flight of stairs, at the bottom of which he flung open a door, which led into the street. How delicious was the breath of the air upon our cheeks !

' Good night, gents,' said Blackstock. ' You'll keep your tougues between your teeth, I know, for your own sakes and another time. Don't you mention names, sir. You've been precious near kingdom come, gents, this night. Good-bye,'

IWe never saw anything more of Blackstock in our dissecting-room ; but a few days after the occurrences of that night we had a new subject, which turned out to be ' the little old gentleman.' Of course, it was no use returning his snuff box, and I have kept it ever since, as a memento of an occurrence I should other wise sometimes fancy was but a dream.' 1 Yes, he was a kind-hearted individual, your Mr. Blackstock, as you remarked when you began your story,' said the colonel, yawning violently. ' Why, it's 2 o'clock ! I never spent a longer hour in my life. Well, good-bye, Wilson; gentle men, good-bye! By the way, Wilson, what became of the key ?'

' I've no doubfc it is at the bottom of the river to this day,' said Wilson, with a chuckle. ' Adieu, my friends.'

How an English Peddler Manages.

An itinerant jeweller, who is very honest in his business transactions, has a great horror of telling lies. Every morning, ere he sets out on his jour ney, he spreads his ware on the family table, and his wife is summoned when all is ready. ' offer me £15 for that watch.' Sarah makes the bid, which the hus band refuses to take- Sarah then makes other offers for the rest of the articles, which her spouse habitually declines to accept. Me then marches away with a clear conscience. When a customer bids £14 for the watch, his reply is: ' My dear sir, I assure you I was o£

fered j£ls for the article this very morning, and I refused to take it.', _ And so he proceeds with the remain der of his goods, and in each instance swearing that he has had such and such a bid already, which he refused. Ihe jeweller is a thriving man, anb clings to the old adage,' Honesty is the best policy.*

Leaving Out the Joke.

Some people are bright enough to enjoy a good joke, btit 6.0 wot have re tentive memories, so as to be able to repeat it to others. Failures of this kind are sometimes ludicrous. We give some good specimens. The most famous of tin's class was the college professor, who, on parting with a student that had called on him, no ticed that be had a new coat and remarked that it was too short. The student, with an air of resignation, replied: 'It will be long enough before 1 get another.' The professor onjoyed the joke heartily, and going to a meeting of the college faculty just afterwards, he' entered the room in great glee and said, ' Young Sharp got off such a joke just now. He called on me a "little while ago, and as he was leaving, I noticed his new coat, and told him it was too short, and he said: ' Jt will be a long time before I get another.' .No one laughed, and the professor sobering down remarked : ' i t doesn't seem so funny as when he said it.' a red-haired lady who was ambi tious of literary distinction found but poor sale for her book. A gentleman, in speaking of her disappointment, said: ' Her hair is red (read) if her book is not.' An auditor, in attempt ing to relate the joke elsewhere, said : ' She has red hair, if her book hasn't.'

The most unfortunate attempt at reproducing another's wit was made by an hnglishinan who didn't under stand the pun, but judjed from the applause with which it was greeted that it must be excellent. During a dinner at which he was a guest, a waiter lefc a boiled tongue slip oft" the plate on which ho was bearing it, and it fell on the table.

The host at once apologised for the mishap as a 'lapsus lingua)' (slip of the tongue). The joke was the best thing at the dinner, and our friend concluded to bring it up at his own table.

He accordingly invited his company and instructed a servant to let fall a round of beef as he was bringing it to the table.

"When the 'accident' occurred, he exclaimed : ' That's a ' lapsus lingua)'

.Nobody laughed, aud he said again, ' I say that's a ' lapsus lingua)/ and still no one laughed.

A screw was looso somewhere, so ho told about the tongue falling, and they did laugh.

' Why ia this,' said a waiter, holding up a common kitchen utensil, ' more remarkable than Napoleon Bonaparte? Because JSapoleon was a great man, but this is a grater.' "When the fun ny man reproduced it in his circle, he asked the question right, but answered it, 'Because JSapoleon was a great man, but this is a nutmeg-grater.'

Taking a Vote.

[From the Detroit Free Press.]

As a train on the Lake Shore Road was coming, into Detroit the other day, a long geared man, who had been sleeping for two or three hours, suddenly awoke, rose up, and after a yawn and a stretch he took his plug hat in his hand, held it out to one of the passengers, and remarked :• ' Less vote on Beecher.'

' Oh, go to thunder !' growled the man. The tall man tore five or six leaves from his memorandum book, wrote ' innocent' on some and ' guilty' on the others, and started down the aisle.

' Madam.' he said, as he approached the nearest lady, • I'd like to have you vote one of these tickets. Vote just as your conscience dictates, madam.' She refused to vote, and he dropped a ballot marked ' innocent' into the hat and passed to a man, who, overcome by the heat, had fallen asleep. ' Here ! you—what do you think of Beecher ?' he asked, shaking the sleeper.

' Durn you, sir—durn yon !' roared the man as he sat up. ' Which way do you vote P' ' Gway from me or I'll mash the top of your head down on to your collar-bone !' yelled the aroused sleeper, lifting his big red fist.

The ballot-box man passed to a boy about ten years old, and inquired : • Bub. what do you think about Beecher P' • I dunno/ replied the boy; ' father said'he'd lick me if I said anything about it.' A ballot of ' guilty' was dropped into the hat and the man passed down to a dreary-looking old chap who was rolling a bit of plug tobacco under hia tongue. ' Woll, old friend, what do you think of Beecher ?' was the inquiry. The dreamy chap got up, tossed his quid out of the window, and. calmly took the canvasser by the throat and jammed him over a seat and hit him twice on the 'chin. It was all over before anybody (could interfere, and, as he resumed his seat, lie looked back at the canvasser, who, half stunned, was gazing around iv the greatest astonishment, and remarked:

' I promised my dying wife I'd lick the next man who said Beecher to me, and now you keep away !'

The canvasser pushed the dents out of his plug-hat, borrowed a pin to mend his coat-collar, tied a wet handkerchief around his throat, and sat down and fell into such a train of reflection that the peanut-boy had to speak to him four times over be fore he.waa aroused.

Deacon Jones' Experience.

ARKANSAS CONFERENCE.

Ye'r right when you lays it down, parson, Tbet the flesh is weak and a snare ; And to keep yer plow In the furrow When yer cattle begins to rare— Aiu;fc no Btire thing. And between us, The same may be said of prayer ! Why, I stood the jokea on the river, Of the boys, when the critters found Thet I'd |ined the church, and the snicker The!, may be you mind, went round, Tim day I sat down with the mourners, In the old carop-meetin' ground ! I stood all thet, and I reckon I might, at a pinch, stood more- fat the boys, they represents Bael, And I stand* an the rock of the law, And it seemed like a ffiorftl sftriminage In holdin' agin their jaiV. But thar's crosses a Christian suffers", As he?sn yt got that pretence- Things with no moral purpose^ Tilings ez bez got no iSfense j Things ez, somehow, no profit Will cover their first expense. Ez how ! I was jist last evenin' Addresin' the Throne of Grace, And mother knelt in the corner, And each of t))« boys in his place — When that sneaking pup of Ke/.iah's To Jonathan's cat giv chase t

I never let on to mind 'em, I never leb oil io MflSr, But drove that prayer down th& furrow With the cat hidin' under my cheer, And Keziah a whisperin' ' fcic her !' And mother a sayin' ' you dare!' I asked fer a light fer the heathen, To guide on his narrer track. With that dog and that cat jest waltzin', And Jonathan's face jest black, When the pup made a rush, and the kitten- Dropped down on the small of my back. Yet I think, with the Lud's assistance, 1 might have eontinered then, If gettin' her holt, that kitten Hedn'fc dropped her claws in me—when It somehow reached the ' Old Adam,' And I jumped to my feet with ' Amen/ So, ye'r right when you says it, parsoH, That the flesh is weak and a snare, And to keep yer plow in the furrow When yer cattle begin to rare Ain't no sure thing. And between us I say 3 it's jist so with prayer.

— [Bret JSarle

Crying for the Moon.

A Little Folks' Stoky,

Theke was a little girl once who wanted the moon. It was so bright and large and beautiful that she fairly broke her heart yearning for it. All the toys in the world were nothing to that round, golden thing that shimmered and shone so ; and she begged everybody to get it for her. First her papa, because he was so tall that if he went out on the roof he could surely reach it. But he declared that the thing could not be done, and advised her to be contented with a doll, a big one with blue eyes, that opened and shut, and real yellow hair—a doll instead of the moon — but he did not understand. She could not make him see that it was the moon she wanted, not a doll.

Then she went to her mother. Best and dearest mother, who would do any thing for her. She was kind. She said she remembered wanting the moon her self ; but no one ever got it for her. It was a beautiful moon, If one had it one could go about lighting up the places where one went, so beautifully ; but as it was, it shone very prettily. Could she not look at it, admire it, be content, and have instead ever so many pieces of blue and pink and yellow silk, and needle and make some patchwork or bonnets for her doll ?

Mamma was kind, but she did not quite understand either. Oh, no.

Then there was her big brother, who grinned, and teased her; and her big sister, who begged her not to cry, and gave her a great sweet sugar plum. The moon was not to be had they said ; but she knew better.

That night when she we'ut to bed, she asked the nurse, old Dinah, whether it was true that she could never, never, never reach the moon; and Dinah con sidered, under the red and yellow turban like a small conflagration, and after considering, she said:

' Well, honey ; reckon you can't reach de moon, no ways—specks dats impos sible ; but I tell ye what: when dat yar moon gets ready it will come down to you. Yes, chile ; de moon will come down to you when it gets ready. So go to sleep, and don't bother no more.'

The little girl was happy, and said her prayers and went to sleep on her little white pillow, thinking of the happy time when the moon should come down to her.

Late in the night, after every one was sleeping, she awoke. The moon had gone behind the house, and she could see it no longer.

' What if it has come down,' she said —and she got up and went to the window, pattering softly over the floor in her little bare feet so that she awoke no one.

Outside of the window lay a little pond, and there on its breast was the reflection of the moon she could not see. The beautiful yellow moon.

*It has come down to me,' she said. • The moon has, come down of its own self;' and she danced for joy. Then, knowing a way out of the honse, she crept down stairs, not even waiting for her shoes, and out into the cold, still garden, where all the flowers bloomed and the. grass was wet with dew. She went down the path, and opened the gate, and ran down to the pond. Far out in its very centre the moon that had come down to her floated on its back.

( Come here,' said she; but the moon did not come.

• Don't you hear me ?' she cried. The moon made no answer,

There was nothing for it buc to wade out and bring it in. She tucked her little night-gown up and started. The moon smiled at her. She took one step more ;it was on water. As she went down she caught at the golden shimmer with her little white hands.

• Moon, I have got you!' she cried: and then her head was under water.

Somebody in the house heard her scream, and came out ifl. a terrible fright. Papa, big and strong, walked into the water and brought the little girl out. She was choking with mouthfuls of dirty water. She was all over mud and mire. Oh, her pure white gown, the little baby, maiden dress, how dirty it was 1 The tiny feet were as black as Dinah's, and in

the small dimpled hand were clasped two or three long pieces of very rank, ill smelling water weeds, and she was nearly dead; bnt as soon as she could speak, this was what she said : | 'The moon came down to me, and I j went to get it; and then she pulled me ' down and drowned me and dirtied me, ! he nasty, wicked moon.' i Moral. —All the strong-minded little girls that want the moon, beware. You cannot rearh her, and if she does come down you'll have to wade through dirty water to get her. Your feet and your white garments will be soiled, and you must touch evil weeds, and perhaps you will be less lucky than our .little girl; for no one may come to your rescue, and you may be quite drowned, not only par j tially so, by that wicked, treacherous j moon, for which you pine and speechify.-^ i ' JS"ew York Ledger.'

The Ladies.

A JLondon doctor says that black eyes and deceit go together in woman. A confectioner who twelve months ago taught his parrot to say ' Pretty creature' to every lady who entered his shop, is now a millionnaire. Jean Ingelow is now forty-five years old, and, in the estimation of an unpre judiced public, has written enough sentimental poetry to quit the business and start a soup-house. The blessedness of small woman has been discovered in Dubuque. In that town gentlemen are obliged to carry their ladies over the muddy stfeet cross ings. A Sandusfry belle wears a shoe which is numbered ' 17, extra large,' is only fourteen inches from toe to heel, and six inches across the broadest part of the sole, and her feet grow one size every year. She is only sixteen years old—just budding into womanhood. Matrimonial arithmetic—Twice one are one. A Virginia widow refused to marry a bald-headed man, though he was a mil lionnaire. She explained : 'We d have a family'fight some time; and he has no hair to catch hold of.' No true woman will ever marry a man so tall that she cannot reach his hair. Query from the siudies When a man marries a lady artist, ougS* he to become a model husband ? Girls' rights-kisses. Girls' lefts--pld bachelors. French girls who hays no dowry seldom get married, for husbands in that country are a cash article, and command a high price.

• Printed and published by the P*°Pie- o'*0'*> ll (g£ I Jy McCullagh Bead, of St George's Bay, »« P tmg ■ Brett, of Parnell, at their Geueia Office, Wyndbam-street, in the Cify ot Anowa -i 1 New Zealand :-H * ... Btfwday,September 18,1*76 - . ' .. .""■'• ■,'■ . • $ '

SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAB



t T POKTANT TO T AD lES. SILKS ! SILKS ! ! SILKS ! TINDER COST PRICK. R. W. DYSON HAVING A VERY HEAVY STOCK IS NOW OFFERING SPLENDID BLACK SILKS— Worth 4/9 $ yard, reduced to 3/10 Worth 5/ $ yard, reduced to 3/11. Worth 5/9 $ yard, reduced to 4/9. Worth 6/6 yard, .reduced to 5/4. Also, a large lot of SPLENDID COLOURED GROSGRAINS In Brown, Drab, Slate, Bronze, Stone, Silver Green, and Blue. SlLKS—Cheap at 6/6, reduced to 4/9. SILKS-Cheap at 7/6, reduced to 5/9. SlLKS—Cheap at 7/9, reduced to 5/11. THE BEST VALUE IN BLANKETS Usual price, 24/; reduced to 19/lOd. VERY LARGE SIZES— Usual price, 33 ; reduced to 27/6 ¥ P&lr. EXTRA FINE QUALITY— Usual price, 35/6; reduced to 29/6 $1 pair. A LARGE LOT OF FLANNELS, Heavy and Fine MakeSt CRIMEAN 'FLANNELS, To be quitted at Cost Frioes. H. W. DYSON, Tempobabx Premises: OPPOSITE THE CITY HALL Next door to Brookes Boot Shop. ACCIDENTAL HOTEL, VULCAN LANE. T-av ww lls °P en Daily from 8 a.m., and isisup mfi / plied with all Luxuries procurable. BEST BRANDS WINES, SPIRITS, ETC. -k Contains one of Alcock's Bust —THE— f. Tables, ' and is under the BILLIARD ROOM f management of an Efacient J Marker. AN INTERESTING COLLECTION OF CURIOS, PICTURES, ETC. Acknowledged to be the Rarest in the Province. LOCAL, ENGLISH, AND AMERICAN PAPERS FILED. ARMY AND NAVY FAMILY AND COMMERCIAL HOTEL, Upper Queen-street. Although most conveniently situated for business men this Hotel is in a pleasant and healthy part of the City, and has a splendid and com manding prospect. THE CHOICEST OF WINES AND SPIRITS. A NIGHT PORTER IN ATTENDANCE. CHARLES BURTON, Propbitoob. , "



p HEAP CLEARING-OT3T e AT . I \J -. ■HE E OF jl DRAPEEY & CLUTHIKG H. ATKINS HAS COMMENCED A CLEAEING-ODj I SALE OP HIS |t IMMENSE STOCK! I THE WHOLESSTOCK IN EVERY I DEPARTMENT HAS BEEN" f RE-MARKED. j A REDUCTION OF 12J to 25 PER CENT; I HAS BEEN MADE. I THE idLANCE OF WINTER DSEBB | MATERIALS I JfILL BE SOLD REGARDLESS OF COSTi P FBENCH MERINOS, I: "WINSEYS, HOMESPUNS, | BLACK SILKS, COLOBED SILKS, I SILK VELVETS," VELVETEENS, BLACK | LUSTEES & MOURNING GOODS, I UEDUCED 12# TO 15 I P E B C E N T! j A CHEAP LINE OF BLAGK SILK VELVET (MANTLE WIDTH), * AT 12s. 6d. PER YARD, "WORTH 20s. MANCHESTER GOODS, C CBBlEtißg Shebtibt gs, Quilts, Long Ctotauss, Tabie Lunar, Huckabacks, and all Furbishing Goods, Reduced 12j to 15 pee cent. . an overstock of 300 paies blankets, Bednced 12# to 20 per cent. CRIMEAN SHIRTINGS, FLANNELS, 4c, Bednced 12# to 17# per cent. *■ FANCY GOODS, HOSIERY, Ac.,1, At 12# to 20 per ceiit. Beduction. TTPWAEDS o/ 3,000 YAEDS OF MOSS TMMMIfIQ TO BE CLEARED' AT ONE PENNY PER YARD. A VERY BE AVY OVERSTOCK OF CLOTHING, TWEEDS, SHIRTS, AN GENERAL OUTFIT^US G; REDUCED 15 TO 20 PER CENT. . N.B.—The STOCK of CLOTHING has eenKB MABKED considerably BELOW -WHOLESALE PBIOE. ALL GOODS AT THE SsAME [RATE OF REDUCTION. *3, THE SALE IS A GENUINE ONE: The STOCK mnst be REDUCED some Tioiisa^ cf Pounds before TAKINGfiSTOCK. ' ', ' ■ ■ ■ ■ H. A T KIN S, (Late Hay? & Honeyman). .... : ~■•..■? i.; ,:■:■■ ■ ■ ' ?--■■■■