An Aloe Blossom.

It- is one of the miserable things in life that there are people to whom the gift of expression is denied.

Helen Miles was one of these speech less souls. As a child she was pale and Still. The aunt who brought her up, and did not love her, suspected her of ' sly ness,' and openly quoted the proverb about ' still waters.' At sixteen she was called ' shy,' at twenty-five stigmatised as cold. Shyness is not an admissible excuse after twenty. Tall, with a good figure and features, thick light brown hair without the least gloss or curl, a a fair, colourless, skin, a graceful hand and arm, she was entitled to pass for a pretty woman. In fact, women no prettier rank often as belles, But she was not beautiful enough for a statue, and as a statue her acquaintance persisted in re garding her, which certainly was not fair. She had some dim consciousness of this, and it made her uncomfortable. Her eyes looked out at times with a pitiful, inquiring look—the look we see in a dog's eyes or a doe's a look we cannot quite read. Nobody read Helen's. Two or three people, attracted by this odd face, made little experiments, fumbled at the lock of her impassible reticence, but it was in vain; all the incantations, the ' open sesames,' failed ; nothing came of it. * Cold as a stone, my dear !' women said of her, and by general agreement she was set down as a person without enthusiasm, ' faultily faultless, icily regu lar'—a person who said little because she felt nothing, to whom generous inpulsc was unknown. With such judgment are some women judged, and will be to the end of the world.

Just one crevice existed in this armour of ice, through which at times the real Helen looked out and revealed herself. Did I say that she sang ? Fer voice was low and rich, rather soprano than con tralto; its range was limited to a few notes, but it possessed an extraordinary pathetic quality. She sang no songs that other people sang, bnttook scraps from this poet and that—Arnold, Tennyson, Rosetti, Landor—and set them to weird little harmonies of her own composition. Nothing of the limitation of her nature belonged to this unique musical faculty, except that she could not always sing, or to all people, and that there were persons before whom she could not sing at all. Of course this only made everyone more eager to hear her. Happy and light hearted people find a certain luxury in being made miserable. It was a fashion able excitement to sit in the twilight and have Helen Miles break your heart with her soft pathetic voice, and she was greatly in request; in fact her music constituted her chief hold on society. Reginald Thurston remembered^ long afterward the night when first he heard her. Mrs. Le Clerc's drawing-room was dim with fire-light as he went m—the light of a flickering wood fire, which sparkled on the sofa where Rosalie Le Clerc lay, and sent long sudden shadows across the floor. Prom the inner room came the sound of singing. He stood in shadow till the music ended, then moved forward. 4 How do you do ?' said Mrs. Le Clerc, her gay, friendly voice coming like relief, after that other. 'We are keeping blind man,s holiday, as you see, and Miss Miles has been singing to us. Can you find a chair in this darkness, Mr. Thurston? Here's one. Oh, Helen, don't stop; go on.' . ■ ■ But Helen had left the piano, and was moving toward them. Reginald, who was shaking hands with the invalid Rosalie, was glad of this. He did not care for music as music, and he hated to have his feelings drawn upon in society. Besides, he had some curiosity to see the singer. She came forward steadily, made an icy little bend on introduction, and sat down by the fire. . ■ Please, Miss Miles, sing something ___Q m ' Excuse me, Rosalie; not to-night.' 'Well,' said Mrs. Le Clerc, 'if you won't be persuaded to give us more music, we will have the gas.' She lighted it as she spoke. Reginald glanced at the cool pale face framed in its lustreless hair, but he was not attracted. He hked lively, vivacious women, who chatted and I entertained him, and with whom he was not forced to exert himself. Intensely re served, he hid the fact under an easy, iovial manner. Anecdotes, repartees, great bursts of Homeric laughter, these made up his coat of armour. People Generally did not suspect that he wore airy Out of the pulpit he was just like other men, they said, the truth being that only in the pulpit was he really him- He scarcely noticed Helen again this evening. Not once did they speak, and he was quite unconscious of the quick, startled glances with which she favoured him. Never had she looked thus at any one. Prom the moment of their meeting a new influence possessed her. She did not question or analyze, but drifted on its flow, asking not whither. It is hard to be classified as a stone, and yet to have none of a stone's immun ities This luckless Helen of mine was no wiser than the rest of her sex, and far less happy. Weeks went on. She and Mr Thurston met continually, as people do when once they begin. Continually his attraction for her became stronger. It was not long before she knew that she loved, and, (for she never blinded herseli) loved hopelessly. This did not pain her greatly, except at moments; she was used to finding herself locked away from the everv-day experiences of other women, and the mere fact of loving brought with it a stir and a thrill of which she had not dreamed herself capable. After a while a strange happiness came to her from the very secrecy of this unreturned affection. In her heart she named Reginald by tender names; every day her thoughts went out toward him. She dared to believe that in some way unknown to her, but known of God, his life must be the better and richer for this ceaseless dew of benedict: in poured upon it. Nobody guessed, nobody read^ the lineaments of generous passion behind the cold veil of her fa«je; none Jheard the prayers in which his name stood first. Those who know not the bliss of receiv ing, feel full joy of giving; she thought herself—she was—content. T^s content-. 1 mont would of course have jmßhed in a Ihirlwin'd had Reginald g^»gn,of an f^ntion to be happy wit%^pdy else, lite was not tested mf

Family ties have a habit of pulling when you least expect it. Helen had few such ties An older sister, married in France, was her only near relation. This summer, nearly a twelvemonth after the evening at Mrs.Le Clerc's, the sisterly tie asserted itself for the first time. Ma dam Farsird wrote urgently to claim a visit. Her husband was in bad health, her only daughter about to be married ; if Helen would come to them for a few months, it would be such comfort, Nor mandy was pleasanter than Cape May or Long Branch; and for the voyage across the Atlantic, what was it now-a-days P—a pleasure sail, a mere bagatelle. Surely Helen would come ?

' Of course you'll go,' cried aunts and cousins and second cousins in full chorus. It's an opportunity ; it's a charming plan; it's a plain duty. Anna needs you ; you must go.' Helen gave consent. The attractions of home were not particularly strong in summer, when the people of Emanuel Church were scattered, and its pastor off on his long vacation. 'As well Normandy as anything,' she thought, rather wearily. An escort was easily found in the persons of old Mr. and Mrs. Le Clerc, going abroad in the steam-ship St. Malo on the 2d of June. No better ship going, people said, and June was the very month for sea-voyaging. Helen's last appearance before sailing was at Mrs. Doylston's ball on the 29th of May, a beautiful festival in one of the most superb of modern houses. Flowers abounded, a carnival of fragrance and colour, from the smilax-wreathed staircase to chimney-pieces converted for the nonce into banks of roses and stephanotis. But the one inimitable glory of the occasion, joy of Mrs. Doylston's heart i and despair of rival florists, was a century I plant in full blossom. It stood in the middle of the drawing-room, its spike of dusky yellow rearing itself from the base of jagged, shapeless leaves ; and to every one who entered, Mrs. Doylston said, 'Be sure you see the aloe. It will be a hundred years, you know, before the plant flowers again.' ' But I thought aloes died as soon as they had done blooming,' said Mary j Rogers to Begin aid Thurston, as they stood by the flower. ' They do —or so runs the legend.' ' Dear me! What a waste it seems i that a hundred years should go to perfect a thing which is to die as soon as it is fairly made.' Helen also was looking at the aloe. She wore a white dress that night, and looked more like a snow-woman than ever. ' I can't help pitying the aloe,' went on Mary, sentimentally, 'Of course, it wouldn't blossom at all if it knew that its death must be th^ consequence.' ' Better die, perhaps, than never to blossom.' ' Oh, do you think so ? I don't. Poor aloe!' * I feel as if it was the happiest flower in the world/ said Helen, in an abrupt tone. She turned as she spoke and walked away. ' What a singular girl Miss Miles is !' remarked I pretty Mary. ' I never can make her out at all. She is going abroad for the summer, you know ; going next week.' *Is she ? So am I.' ' Really ! Tell me about it.' And the conversation drifted away from Helen. None the less her strange sudden speech had made a disagreeable impression on Reginald. He would not ask the name of the ship in which she was to sail, from a disinclination to have it his own. Nor was Helen's feeling one of unmixed joy when, on her third day out, as she emerged from the companion-way under escort of the stewardess, his face was the first she saw. Nothing but civilities could pass, however. ' Miss Miles ! I did not know that we were fellow-passengers. Let me place your chair here out of the wind.' ' Thanks,' said Helen, in her deep mea sured voice, hating herself for being un able to say anything more apropos than * thanks.'

' You'd best pin your shawl fast, mum, advised the stewardess. She tucked Helen's feet in, put a rug behind her back, and having reduced her to the woolen chrysalis which must be a sailor's one idea of a fashionable lady, went away. ' Have you been sick ? Are you going abroad for long ?' So the conversation went, never getting an inch beyond the common-place. Helen might have shone more had she not been so busy thinking of things which were unsayable. It is not easy affecting interest in weather, when all the while you are putting inward questions, uttering secrets past speech. At sea, however, no one is blamed for silence. Before long they ceased to talk. Reginald held a book in his hand, but he did not read ; the width and glory of the tossing horizon filled his eyes. And soon he forgot Helen, and into his face came what Rosalie Le Clerc had once called his ' preaching look,' a look which Helen knew well. Rousing suddenly, ho caught her eyes fixed upon him with an intensity which made him start. ' What is it ?' he asked involuntarily. ' I beg your pardon ; I did not speak,' answered Helen, with a fiery blush. 'I beg your's I must have been half asleep,' almost as confusedly. He tried to laugh it off, said something about sea air and its effects; but the embarrassment continued. Soon he walked away. Helen was abjectly miserable. 'How did I look? What did he mean?' So her restless thoughts ran. Matters were not mended by this little episode. Next day Reginald avoided her, and she sat, cool and unconcerned to all outward appearance, but wretched at heart. It is not easy, however, to avoid people altogether in the close quarters of a steam ship. Every day these two met, bowed, spoke, exchanged necessary civilities, or sat near each other in mutual silence. Once, when they happened to be in a dim and shaded corner of the moon-lit deck, Helen began to sing. It was the first conscious effort she had ever made to attract the man she loved, and it was pun ished as such efforts often are. Her voice blended singularly with the waves and the low shudder of the sails: ".Come not when I am dead To shed thy foolish tears upon my grave, Or vex the unquiet dust thou would'st not save. \ Neyex had she poured such passionate meaning into the^lines. Each note^was

charged with disdainful woe, with ghostly tears —if ghosts weep. Reginald could not endure it. At the last, ' But thou go by,* he wont jumping suddenly from his chair, and vanished without a word. Helen wept bitterly that night. ' Nothing will ever bring us any near* r,' she sobbed, ' Even in heaven I shall be far away from him. I know it.'

How glibly we talk of heaven ! how easily we invoke death! And suddenly there he is, in dreadful nearness ! In the darkness that followed that moon-setting in the earliest hours of morning, came a sudden and tremendous crash. A bark at full sail had struck the St. Malo amid ships, and in a brief moment every soul on board had waked co consciousness of calamity. A mass of half-clad, frightened passen gers thronged the deck. Screams, wails, imprecations filled the air; the ship's officers lost all self-possession, and rushed aimlessly to and fro. Through the great rent in the steamer's side the water came washing in. In an inconceivably short time the fires were extinguished ; the bark which inflicted the injury had vanished in the blackness of the night. ' Lower the boats,' ' Lower the boats !' shouted voices. ' Oh, why don't they lower them p' sobbed poor old Mrs. Le Clerc, clutching her husband's arm. ' Hush, Mary, they will.' But precious moments passed, the confusion deepening' with each, and the boats were not lowered. Frantic men with clasp-knives flung them selves upon the davits, cut, tore, cast wide tho ropes. The first boat fell, j struck the warer, filled, and instantly went down. A second, a third, shared the same fate. Some of the sailors seized the life-boat and pushed off in her, regardless of the frenzied passengers, A yard came crashing from above and smashed the launch. It was a scene to try the metal of a man. Reginald Thurston worked like a hero. Expostulating, directing, soothing, encouraging, ho rushed to and fro, Helen keeping near him like a silent shadow. Under his orders three boats wen successfully launched, and women and children, the old and the weak, hurried into them. Helen took the shawl from her shoulders to put round Mrs. Le Clerc, who, through all this scene of frantic terror, had never let go her husband's hand. ' Aren't you coming, too ?' sobbed the old lady. ' There is no room,' replied Helen, briefly, as the boat pushed off. At that moment a shout announced a fresh accident. The last remaining boat had capsized, half full of passengers. Forty persons remained on the steamer's deck. The water gained every moment. Helen was the only woman left. * You hero !' said Beginald. ' I thought you safe in the first boat.' ' No,' said Helen, with a strange, sweet smile, which, even at that moment, aston ished him. He tied a life-preserver round her waist. ' You are cold,' he said ; ' perhaps I can find you a shawl.' ' Oh, what does it matter P it will soon be over,' she replied, with the same quietude. 'Will the parson give us a bit of a prayer ?' asked a grizzled old sailor, touching his hat. All knelt, while in solemn tones Regin ald commended their souls as dying men to the all-merciful Father. A beautiful ! confidence breathed through the prayer, and a deep hush followed, all the more impressive from the wild clamour which preceded it it. ' You are sure there is no chance for us ?' asked Helen, when he returned to her side. ' Humanly speaking, none. I do not see the least.' The words were firmly spoken; his face wore its usual happy look. Worthy living makes worthy dy ing, an old saint has told us. ' Are you much afraid ?' he asked. ' No, not very,' with a slight shiver. ' But you are sure, quite sure ?' ' I think so I see no hope whatever.' What a face she turned upon him as he spoke! The binnacle light flamed full upon her, and showed it plainly. Her eyes shone, a deep flush was in the cheeks, every line was grown inexpressibly tender! ' You are not frightened !' he exclaimed, involuntarily. ' You look happy, happier then I ever saw you look before !' ' I am happy.' she replied in a voice so soft that he scarcely recognised it as hers. ' We have but a few minutes to live— we are almost spirits 1 I can tell you now what I never could have told had we lived —that I love you—have loved you for a long time.' ' Miss Miles ! You !' ' Don't be surprised—don't be shocked,' she pleaded. ' Oh, if you knew what it is for me to once speak and tell what is in my heart! All my life I have longed to speak, and I never could. We are dead now, and at last I can!' On the edge of eternity Reginald Thurston was conscious of embarrassment at this avowal. Helen detected it. ' You do not know what to say to me,' she went on, with a sort of disembodied frankness. ' Dear friend, say nothing. I am not ashamed that I have loved you, and by-and-by you will not be sorry. We are going where love is life and law; mine cannot harm or inconvenience you there.' ' Poor child!' he murmured, inexpres sibly touched. * No, not poor. I have been much ' happier for knowing you. and now we are going to the next world together. I never thought that anything so wonderful as that could happen.' A cry came from the forlorn group on the other side of the deck. ' What was that P What did they say ?' * I think they said * A ship!' replied Reginald, straining his eyes into the darkness, 'Oh surely not! How could I live now?' There was real terror in her face. ' Do not be frightened,' he said gently, ' I am not worthy of the affection you have given me, but whether we live or die, I shall always thank you for it.' She did not answer, but there was a beautiful look in the eyes she turned upon him. Just then the ship gave a heavy lurch, a downward plunge Reginald clasped Helen's hand firmly _\ • Now !'|he said. The next moment|they werejn the sea.

Half an hour later he was recovering his senses on board the bark Curlew, the last man rescued from the ill-fated steamer. All the interval was black eclipse. He only knew that somewhere in ocean depths Helen's hand had been torn from his, and that he rose to the surface without her. Poor Helen! Lonely in death as in life, she has cone companionless into the unknown world!

This was years ago. Beginald Thurs ton has been a successful man and a happy one. He has never married. This is no tribute to Helen's memory. He thinks, and perhaps rightly, that his work is better done without the incum brance of a wife. It may be that, as his hair grows gray, and the shadows gradu ally lengthen over the road, his thoughts go back, and he realises that the truest love which blessed his manhood was quenched on that wild night beneath Atlantic waves. But why do I say quenched ? Do we not all believe, with Helen, that'love is life and law'in the land where she is gone ? And even in that land of compensation, wherever, whatever she may be now, she must be happier. Eternity, it would seem, must be sweeter for her one aloe blossom of speech —that for • once she spoke, just once before she died. —[Harper's Bazaar.

In a Tunnel.

[The following concluding portion of the above story, which appeared in last Saturday's supplement, was inadvertently omitted J

It was a pleasant sight to behold Miss Mayhew racing along the platform, cast ing dignity to the winds, and the old lady on the verge of apoplexy within the car in her efforts to raise the window. How the people stared to be sure ! But Miss May hew did not care. She. was long past personal sensitiveness; and when the sash finally yielded just as she reached the extreme edge of the platform, she threw in the beads, and retiring, seated her self on a carpet-bag to burst into tears. Her courage completely failed her! the weak, silly, feminine sobs would come. _ • A gentleman had approached to claim the carpet-bag. He was tall, bronzed, and bearded, and he wore a scarf about his throat of some curious Eastern fabric, Miss Mayhew, the tension of excitement having snapped, was left as weak as an infant. Her pocket had been cut, and her portemonnaie was gone. Had she, in securing her companion's safety, fallen a victim to the snaky young man herself ? Sho now rose, making some confused apology for the condition of her late throne, the carpet-bag. • Ruth Mayhew !' exclaimed the stran ger. ' I cannot be mistaken. Surely you wear my gift, the little brooch, silver and pearls '

With a startled expression of wonder she looked up into his face, and read joy in the eyes of her once young missionary. The locomotives shrieked, and the human tide surged to and fro, yet these two saw nothing of the confusion about them. He was journeying toward the white house on the hill, which was to be his first pilgrimage in his native land, and would have missed her had she not pur sued the old lady with the gold beads. ' How did you recognize me P' said Euth Mayhew, flushed and tremulous, all the independence of later years utterly gone. * I should have known you any where in the world,' said the Bey. John Atherton, from Algiers. Nevertheless, I believe he recalled tho familiar brooch before he did the nearer However, that is none of our affair, since she was perfectly satisfied with the reply. The result of this meeting was that Aunt Harriet lost her nurse, and the Foreign Missions gained a cheerful, earnest worker after all.

How Truffles Did It.

I returned to Ashville after an absence of three years and found my friend Truffles grown fat and jovial, with a face the very mirror of peace and self satisfaction. Truffles was the village baker, and he was not like this when I went away. 'Truffles/ said I, 'how is it? Tou have improved.' ' Improved ! How ?' 'Why, in every way. What have you been doing ?' Just then a little girl came in with a tattered shawl and barefooted, to whom Truffles gave a loaf of bread. ' Oh, dear, Mr. Truffles,' the child said, with brimming eyes, as she took the loaf of bread, 'mamma is getting better, and she says she owes so much to you. She blesses you, indeed she does.' ' That's one of the things I've been doing,' he said, after the child had gone. ' You are giving the suifering family bread ?' I queried. 'Yes.' ' Have you any more cases like that?' ' Yes, three or four of them. I give them a loaf a day—enough to feed them.' • And you take no pay ?' ' Not from them.' 'Ah! from the town ?' ' No; here,' said Truffles, laying his [ hand on his breast. ' I'll tell you,' he added, smiling. ' One day, over a year ago, a poor woman came to me and asked for a loaf of bread, for which she could not pay —she wanted it for her poor suffering children. At first I hesitated, but finally I gave it to her, and as her blessing rang in my ears after she had gone I felt my heart grow warm. Times were hard, and there was a good deal of suffering, and I found myself wishing, by and by, that I could afford to give away more bread. At length an idea struck me, I'd stop drinking and give that amount away in bread, adding one or two loaves on my account. I did it, and it's been a blessing to me. f My heart has grown bigger, and I've grown better every way. My sleep is sound and sweet, and^myg dreams 'are^ pleasant. And that'sjrhat youjseeJE suppose.'

The Gold-Fish Trick.

Sevekal of the magicians who perform iv public do what they call ' the gold-fish trick.' The juggler stands upon the stage, throws a handkerchief over his extended arm, and produces in'succession three or four shallow glass dishes filled to the brim with water in which live gold-fixh are swimming. Of course, the dishes are concealed, somehow, upon the person of the performer. Peter Lamb, the young fellow who lives near me, discovered how the trick was done, and he offered to do it, the other night, at Magruder's party, for the entertainment of the company. So the folks all gathered in one end of the parlour, and in a few moments Lamb entered the door at the other end. He said:

' Ladies and gentlemen, you will perceive that I have nothing about me except my ordinary clothing, and yet I shall produce, presently, two dishes filled with living fish. Please watch me narrowly.' Then Peter flung the handkerchief over his hand and arm, and we could see that he was working away vigorously at something beneath it. He continued for some moments, and still the gold-fish did not appear. Then he began to grow very red in the face, and we saw that some thing was the matter. I'hen the perspira tion began to stand in beads upon Peter's forehead, and Mr. Magruder asked him if he was well. Then the company laughed and the magician grew redder. But he kept on fumbling beneath that handkerchief, and apparently trying to reach around under his coat-tails. Then we heard something snap, and the next moment a quart of water ran down the wizard's left leg and spread out over the carpet. By this time he looked as if the grave would be a welcome refuge. But still he continued to feel around under the handkei chief. At last, another snap was heard, and another quart of water plunged down the right leg of his trowsers and formed a pool about his shoe. Then the necromancer hurriedly said the experi ment had failed somehow, and he darted into the dining-room. I followed him, and found him sitting on the sofa, trying to remove his pantaloons. He exclaimed : ' O gosh; Come here quick, aad pull these off! They're soakin' wet, and I've got fifteen live gold-fish inside my drawers, flippin' around, and raspin' the skin with their fins enough to set a man crazy. Ouch! O Moses! Hurry that shoe and grab that fish there at my left knee, or I'll have to howl right out!' Then we undressed him and picked the fish out of his clothes, and I discovered that he had two dishes, full of water, and covered (With india-rubber tops, strapped inside his trowsers behind. In his strug gles to get at them, he had torn the covers to rags. We fixed him up in a pair of Magruder's trowsers, which were six inches too short for him, and then he climbed over the back fence and went home. He says, now, that the next time he gives exhibitions in public he intends to confine himself to ventriloquism.

Not Sharp Enough.—An erring hus band, who bad exhausted all explanations for late hours, and had no apology ready, recently slipped into tbe house about one o'clock, very softly, denuded himself gently, and began rocking the cradle by the bedside, as if he had been awakened out of a sound sleep by infantile cries. Ye had rocked away for five minutes, when Betsy Jane, who had silently observed the whole mano3uvre, said, ' Come to bed, you old fool; the baby ain't there,' >_,

SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAfi, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 23

Printed and published %'the Wiei<jjj| McCullagh Keed, of St George's ! Es*tt, of Parnell, at their <Wg S^f^ , C;f?*>. Wyndham-street, in the^v^i *" i j Se^r Zealand :— ■-"*•)• **foA Saturday, October 25,1875,



R. Baird and Co. HHHE "SIMPSON" SEWING MACHINE COMPANY. A SEWING MACHINE IN EVERY FAMILY DIRECT FROM THE FACTORY. J9sr" NeT INTERVENING PROFITS. "SB ± HAVING BEEN APPOINTED SOLE AGENTS IN NEW ZEALAND FOR TUB SALE OP TOE Celebrated SIMPSON" Sewing Machines, We have decided to offer such terms as will bring them within the reach of every household in the Colony. On payment of a moderate premium, WE j WILL LET ON HIRE any Machine At from Is- 6d- per Week, and after a fixed number of payments we will make a PRESENT of the MACHINE to the hirer. , The "SIMPSON" MACHINES have been in general use in Great Britain, and on the Continent, FOR THE LAST TWENTY YEARS, and although no attempt has been made to Force Sales by an extravagant expenditure in advertising, it is exceedingly gratifying to the Company to find that they are compelled—year by year—to increase their Manufacturing.facilities. m~ Our FIRST SHIPMENT is now to hand, and comprises :—



R. Baird and Co. Cash Price. & s. d. The " Simpson" Family Lock-stitch Machine 7 10 0 The " Simpson''Medium ditto .. 810 0 The "Simpson" No. 2 Manufactur ing ditto •• 10 10 ° Tho "Simpson" No. 4 Double Action, ' small arm Machine for Boot makers " v ° The "Simpson"No. 7DoubloAction, small arm Machine for Shirt makera .. 12 12 0 The " Simpson" Three-needle Ma chine, for Capmakers and others. Can sew with three different colours at once 12 12 0 The Canadian Hand Lock-stitch Machine 4 0 0 The "SIMPSON" MACHINES are most simplein construction, yet bo strong, and fitted with such mechanical nicety, that they run with the greatest ease, and are not at all liable to get out of order. They are easily learned and understood, and the widest range of work can be overtaken by them. They will Bind, Braid, Hem, Coed, Quilt, Tuck, Gather, &c, by using the respective self-acting gauges. The List of Accessories supplied Free with the " Simpson" Sewing Machines is fuller than that sup plied by any other maker. * * Full particulars as to Prices, and Terms for Hiring, to be had on application. Every Purchaser Thoroughly Taught. Private Instruction Room for Ladies. R. BAIRD & CO., QUEEN-STREET, TWO DOOES ABOVE WELLESLEY-STREET. rp HE UNDERSIGNED Having been appointed SOLE AGENTS FOR NEW ZEALAND, for the undermentioned FIRMS, keep a Stock of their Goods always on hand, and are prepared to indent upon the most favourable terms :— THE SIMPSON SEWING MACHINE CO., London and Glasgow. SMITH, ANDERSON & CO., Paper and Paper Bag Makers, Leslie. JAMES McNEILL & CO.-Orr's Patent White Enamel, &c. PULVERMACHER & CO.'S Galvanic Batterus, Belts, and Bands. URE'S PATENT TAP COMPANY.— Patent Measuring Taps. THE GLASGOW RUBBER WORKS.— Sheet and Pipe Rubbers, &c. R. DONALDSON.—The St. Cecilia Chancel Organ. ADAMS & SMALL, Artists in Stained Glass. HENRY GREEN & SON, London.—The Bronner system of Gas-lighting. BRITISH AND ORIENTAL SHIP COAT ING COMPANY.—Anti-fouling composition for Ships' bottoms. R. BAIRD &] CO., QUEEN-STREET. PTJLVERMACHER'S GALVANIC BAISDS AND BATTERIES. "We have just landed a considerable supply of these invaluable appliances for the cure of Rheumatism Indigestion Neuralgia Paralysis Asthma Deafness Lumbago Sciatica Epilepsy Liver Complaint Headache Loss of Voice Toothache Nervous Debility Diptheria &c, &c., &c. Pamphlets, giving full particulars, can be had on application, or will be forwarded by post. All Bands and Batteries will be sold at English prices, with duty and charges added. W~ A Liberal Discount^*) the Trade." '__ \ R. BAIRD & CO., Sole Agents for New Zealand. WRAPPING PAPERS AND PAPER BAGS. JUST LANDED, Ex 'Columbus,' 30 BALES Brown, Grey, and Purple Bags, 2 to 14tt>s. Cartridge Tea Bags, y_, l, and 2fts Confectioners' Bags, % and %lb Biscuit Bags, y_, 1, and 21bs Flour Bags, 1 to Olbs Millinery Bags, various sizes Brown and Blue Wrapping Papers. ' i *»* Storekeepers in town or country supplied with the above, either plain or printed, at lowest prices. r. baird & co., • Sole Agents for the Leslie Paper Mills. T & J. CLARK & CO.' S CELEBRATED COTTON THREAD. A direct Shipment, just landed, of WHITE, BLACK and COLOURED THREAD. Also, an assort ment of Fancy Boxes. Country Storekeepers supplied. R. BAIRD & CO. pAPERHANGINGS PAPERHANGINGS! From the celebrated house of Heywood, Higgin botham, Smtth and Co. (Limited). ort BALES, low to best qualities. 1 CASE BORDERS, CORNICES, CENTRES, - &c. These will be sold in quantities to suit the Trade, Landlords, and others, at very low prices. Indents filled for the new season's Patterns of this well-known firm. R. BAIRD & CO. fVRR'S PATENT WHITE ENAMEL PAINT. This is rapidly superseding the best White Lead ai Home. We will be glad to send printed particulars, and a 71b. sample, to the Trade upon application. R. BAIRD & CO., SOLE AGENTS POX NEW ZEALAND M n QUEEN-STREET, 1 Two£doors above "Wellesley-itroet ■ ■



N wD EBSSMAB3«taJ NEW SUMMER GOODS HAS JUST OPENED FOR THE BPRl N( j SUMMER TRADE A MAGNIFICENT ASSORTMENT'^; New Dress Materia In all Stales and Qualities n_. Prices to Suit all Purchasers. '..■'■.. THESE ABE SOME SPECIAL LINES Very Beautiful Goods. THE WHOLE STOCK OF DRESS GOODS Is well Selected, and the CHOICEST and CHEAPEST IN AUCKLAND. NEW SUMMEE PEINTS. very Heavy Stock of New Prints, beet qualities, excellent pattern, and fast colours. NEW FRENCH MUSLINS. A nice stock of New Muslins, best French goods, very stylish, and beautiful. CHEAP. WASHING SILKS. A cheap line of Checked Silks at 2s 6d per yard; worth 4s. CHEAP JAPANESE SILKS. Japanese Silks, in all colours, from Is 4d per yard. NOTED BLACK SILKS A shipment of H.A.s noted Black Silks just to hand, same as last imported, and 20 per cent below any other Silks in the City. . NEW JACKETS, CAPES, SIJEEVELESS JACKETS, &c., in all the MSWSTYIES. ; A very choice assortment,- MAN CHE S TEE GOODS, JUST OPENED— A Heavy Stock oe Sheetings, Qwhs, Blankets, Long Curtains, Taw* Linen, Calicoes, &c.,&c, All of the best makes, and, as usual, marked very moderate in price. CLOTHING, TWEEDS, &C. Just opened-New Clothing, Hatf, Shirts, &c, &C &c- A SPLENDID LOT OF NEW l^P® TAILORS SUPPLIED AT WEOLES- 13 PRICES, A LARGE STOCK OF BOYS';-f 1 YOUTHS' SUITS. i •■■'. H. A TKIN SI 1 (Latk Hat and Honeymas)-