The Golden Rule.

'What's this boy doing here—this innocent-looking, white-haiied boy?' asked his Honor. < Grittin up a dog fight, exclaimed Bijah. 'My son, is this true? 'I never said a word —the other boys got up the fight!' wailed the lad. ' I do not know what I can do with you. We keep a cross-cut saw here to saw boys in two, but it is Saturday mornino- and I don't want to mess up thestation house. I suppose we ' ' The boys lied on me !' exclaimed the boy, trembling all over. 'They did, eh ! Sow, bo y, tei me the solemn truth—did you have hold of either dog?' 1 No, sir—you may kill me if I did!' ' Did you say sickem ?' 1 No, sir—no!' < Didn't you bet five marbles against three jawbreakers that the red dog would win!' i No—no !' ' Well, boy, this is a serious case, but lam going to overlook it. I think you have told the truth, but you had no business there. In the distant future you want to remember that it is four times better to pull weeds in the garden than to attend a dog-fight.' ' I will, sir.' ! 'And remember to keep truth in i your handkerchief pocket all through life. One ounce of truth is worth mpre in the wholesale market than forty tons of lies.' '.Tea, sir.' ' Now you can go.' The boy reached the door to encounter the band who marched him off, singing: ' Oh bury Bartholomew out in the woods, In a beautiful hole in the ground, ■Whew bumble-bees buzz and woodpeckers sing And i he straddle-bugs tumble around ; So that in winter when the snow and the slush Has covered his little bed, His brother Artemus can go out with Jane And visit the place with his sled.' — Detroit Free Press.

The Mosquitoes of Arctic Land.

Ik a »york recently published in Londoi, The Land of the North Wind or Travels among the Laplanders and ihe Sanoyedes, the author, Edward Eoe, gves the following account of the arctic mosquitoes, which almost makes us content with our own . . The me bitter drop in our cup of joy was tie monstrous but inseparable curse of Arctic summer life—the mosqiito. He abounded, flourished, luxurated, surpassed himself, out mosqritoed himself, on the Kuloi river We were at his mercy; our veils; gauntlets, handkerchiefs, flap pers, all were a vanity and vexation. To Kll was wanton, for to destroy snffiaent was impossible. We had foreeeh all this, and even thought of takiig, amongst other things, a wood peeler from home to protect our faces whie we slept; but one woodpecker woild have been a solemn mockery; weshould have wanted a fresh wood pecker every five minutes. I suppose thise were the historical flies sent to parish the disobedient, obstinate Egyptians; they came forth in order, and after three grievous plagues—the corruption of the waters, the multitude of iogs and the swarms of lice—had entirely failed. We are becoming camoisseurs in mosquitoes; we watch tlem traverse our veils like figures op sKdes in a magic lantern. There is yjllow-striped vampire mosquito, with a triple fang to his proboscis, there is tie brown, hunchbacked or, camel mosquito, with legs of gossamer, who appears to our vindictive eyes to be from two to three inches in length: finally, there is the scorpion mosquito, Tery searching and business-like. We dislike him greatly, for he wastes no time. We know now that leather is a hollow delusion, and armour-plated gauntlets are alone of avail.

Losses.

Upon the white sea-sand, There sat a pilgrim band, Telling the losses that their lives had known, While evening waned away From breezy cliff and bay, And the strolling tides went out with weary moan. One spake with quivering lip Of a fair, freighted ship, With all his household to the deep gone down; But one had wilder woe, For a fair face, long ago, Lost in the darker depths of a great town. There were some who mourned their youth With a most loving truth, For its brave hopes and memories ever green; And one upon the west Turned an eye that would not rest, For far off hills whereon its joys had been. Some talked of vanished gold, Some of proud honors told j Some spoke of friends that were their trust no more, And one of a green grave Beside a foreign wave, That made him sit so lonely on the shore. But when their tales were done, There spake among them one, ; stranger, seeming from all sorrow free ,; "Sad losses have ye met, But mine is heavier yet, For a believing heart hath gone from me." "Alas !" these pilgrims.said, "For the living and the dead, For fortune's cruelty, for love's sure cross, For the wrecks of land and sea j _ But, however it came to thee, Thine, stranger, is life's last and heaviest loss."

♦ ■— ' No one would take you to be what you are,' said an old-fashioned gentleman toa dandy, who had more hair than brains. I Why ?' was immediately asked, ' Be -1 cause they Can't see your ears.'

Bits of Fun.

' Doctor wants to know if you'd please pay this bill now.' Old gentleman looks over the items, and replies: ' Tell Doctor —— I'll pay him for his medicines and return his visits.' A wild-eyed man, carrying his hat in his hand, entered a railroad depot and called out to a man who was wheeling a baggage truck along: ' Where's the train ?' ' What train ?' « Any train any train ! My wife isn't ten rods behind, and she's got an ax-handle over her shoulder and sulphur in her eyes !' ' What's de occasion of dat big smoke over dar?' iuquired one colored man of another at the market yesterday. '.Fire, sah/ was the answer. 'And what's de occasion of de lire ?' ' Combustshun.' ' And what's combustshun ?' ' My friend,' replied the other, crossing his legs, ' dar's heaps of things in dis woruld dat no nigger ever knowed or ever will know an' we'll change de subject to goose berries.' ' Tough glass' will materially assist the master of the house in maintaining discipline in his family. He can now afford to throw tumblers at his obstre perous wife without fear of injuring the tumbler. An obsolete statute of George tlie Second imposes a fine of one shilling per i oath on day labourers, common soldiers, : sailors and seamen ; every other person i under the degree of a gentleman has to j pay two, and every person of or above j the degree five. A conviction recently ' took place under this Act, the reluctant magistrate having been pointed to the ! fact that the same Act imposes a penalty ' of five pounds upon any magistrate failing to enforce it. There was an actor married in Paris,; the other day, whose name was M. j Jaurequisilesbessadiere. There's a mouth- ' ful for you. It reminds one of the story of a French princess, the Princess de Leon, who married a Hungarian general with a frightfuly long and unpro nounceable name. When she went shop ping she used to say to the shopkeeper, in giving her address,' I was born Princess de Leon, but as to my married name, I j never could learn it. Ask my servant, ; and he will tell you what it is.' i Spiritualism at San Francisco has received a curious check. It was an nounced that one night the spirit of ' a young Indian warrior ' would appear to a select circle. When the lights were turned down, and the medium had retired to his cabinet, there came a sudden tre mendous crash from the ceiling to the floor, and the timid spiritualists skedad dled down-stairs, tumbling over each other in their panic. Some of the bolder remained. Presently, the lights being turned up, a large hole was visible in the ceiling, while 'a young Indian warrior,' admirably dressed for the part, lay groan ing on the floor with his head broken. The tableau was complete when the 'medium emerged from his cabinet, and exclaimed, angrily: ' What made you step between the j'ists ? That's just bust the whole business !' Two Irishmen who were travelling together got out of money, and being in | want of a drink of whiskey, devised the J following ways and means: Patrick, j catching a frog out of a brook, went ahead, and at the very first tavern he came to asked the landlord "what sort of a craiture that was ? ' Why, it is a frog,' said the landlord. ' No, sir' said Pat, ' its a mouse.' * It's a frog,' replied the landlord. • It is a mouse,' said Pat, ' and I will leave it to the first traveller that comes along for a pint of whiskey.' 'Agreed,' said the landlord. Murphy soon arrived, and to him was the appeal made. After much examination and deliberation he declared it to be a mouse; and the landlord, in spite of the evidence of his senses, paid the bet. There is an Anti-Profanity Society in Nashville, which charges its members five cents for cussin'. The price is shockingly low : §1 for plain, $2 for mixed, $3 for twisted, $4 for doubled and twisted, and i $10 for regular double, fore and back j action, angular, searching, side wipe and j corrugated oaths is cheap enough, with a j liberal discount for large orders and j special occasions. The President is said to be the wickedest man in Nashville.' j Born in Him.—Old Sambo Shute, long j since gone across the dark valley, was a worthy man in his way, and genial withal; but Sambo would occasionally get drunk. One day his employer took him to task, and read him a lecture, at the close of which he asked him if he didn't think he would do better for the future. ' Dun'o, mas'r,' said the darkey, scratching his head. ' But what do you think ?' ' Well, mas'r, I's afeard I think not.' ' Sambo, what do you mean ? Do you mean that you will not try ?' ' 'Twouldn't be of no use, mas'r,. Fact is 'twas born in me. Rum is my nat'ral drink. Yer see, afore I was born, my father and mother were boff bought on the Coast of Africa an' paid fur in rum.'

Vale.

Good-night, O Earth ! the nights are growing long; ; The days are brief; Life hath one solemn burden for its' song ; ' As fades the leaf.' Good-night, poor World! if thou art full of sin, Why so am I! In this proud heart to judge would I begin, JSTor self pass by. Good-night, my foe! not all the wrong is thine; My share I own : Forgive ! we, human, know one word divine ! The sun goes down. ■ Good-night, good friend! though poor my gifts to thee, I will not fret: The richer thou whose bounty is so free, And sweet my debt. No longer to revenge nor to repay I strive or seek. . Empty I came—must empty go away— Empty and weak. As one who wakes no more to smile or weep Another day, So would Hay me down to sleep And humbly say : O Thou who hadst not where to lay Thy head, As poor were I, Did not Thy mercy make for me a bed Whereon to die !

It appears from a statement made to Mr. Benson, in the South wark Police Court, that in that part of Loudon women are being | paid for making coloured shirts at the rate of one penny each, and out of that sum they J have to find cotton and use their own sewing j 'machines., _'....,.^ '-'

A Family of Lions at Dinner.

Perhaps the most beautiful sight that I ever saw in connection with them was on a morning when I had gone out to hunt with one bearer at dawn I had not gone far from camp, and, most carelessly, my gun was still unloaded, while I was examining some buffalo spoor, when,' on looking up, I saw my gun-bearer, who had 'my cartridges, running away at full speed Knowing that he must have seen something to frighten him so, I did not shout, but went to where he had been standing, a few yards ahead, and there, sure enough, not twenty yards off, were a pair of lions; they were both full grown, and the male had an immense mane, and they formed alto gether as handsome a pair as I ever saw. The lioness was rolling on her back, playfully striking out at her lord and master with her forepaws like a kitten, while he stood gravely aud majestically looking on. I stopped a moment to watch them, though the ground was quite open, aud they must have seen me if they had looked round, and then I pushed off after my Kaffir to load. The position they were in was good, and 1 might have killed one to a certainty, if not both; but when I had succeeded in getting him down from the top of a big tree and went back, they had gone. I suppose they must have got our wind. No doubt they had been hunting all night, and had been down to the river to drink preparatory to going to bed. I once had the pleasure of, unobserved myself, watching a lion family feeding. I was encamped on the Black Umfolosi, Zululand, and toward evening, expecting a friend, i went out to meet him, and instead of taking a gun, which I should have done ninety-nine times out of a hundred, I only took up one of the Kaffir's spears, not intending to go beyond a couple of hundred yards. However, not meeting my friend, I went on, and about halt a mile from camp I saw a herd of zebras gallopping across me, and when they were nearly 200 yards off, I saw a yellow body flash toward the leader, and saw him fall beneath the don's weight. There was a tall tree about GO yards from the place, and anxious to see what went on, I stalked up to it, while the lion was still too mui.h occupied to look about him, and climbed up. He had by this time quite killed the beauti fully striped animal, hut instead of proceeding to eat it, he got up and roared vigorously, until there was an answer, and in a few minutes a lioness accompanied by four whelps came trotting up from the same direction as the zebras, where no doubt she had been to drive them toward her husband. They formed a fine picture as they all stood round the carcass, the whelps tearing and biting at it, but unable to get through the tough skin. Then the lion lay down, and the lioness, driving her offspring before her, did the same four or five yards off, upon which he got up, and commencing to eat, had soon finished a hind leg, retiiing a few yards on one side as soon as he had done so. Ihe lioness came up next, and tore the carcass to shreds, bolting huge mouthfuls, but not objecting to the whelps eating as much as they could find. There was a good deal of snarling and quarrelling among these young lions, and occasionally a stand up fight for a minute, but their mother did not take any notice of them, except to give them a sharp blow if they got in her way. At last one of the whelps, having probably eaten as much as it could gorge, began to wander about and in a few menutes came my way. Seeing it so near, the idea of catching it entered my head, and descending to the lower branch, I waited till it came underneath and dropped down over it, seizing it with both hands; but J had counted without my host; the little beast snarled and bit and tore at my bare arms in such a fashion that 1 was glad to fling it away and scuttle up the tree again as fast as I could out of the way of the enraged mother, who was coming down at full gallop, her tail carried out straight behind, and look ing the very personification of fury. Bhe xushed right against the tree in her blind fury, and then running up, glared at me and roared terribly. I might easily enough have sent my spear into her, but as there was not the faintest chance of it killing her and it would answer no useful purpose,* I refrained and watched her instead as she flew at her offspring and drove it, yelling at her rough treatment, toward the others. There was now left of the zebra but a few bones, which hundreds of vultures were circling round, want ing to pick, while almost an equal number hopped awkardly on the ground within fifty or sixty yards of it; andfthe whole lion family walked quietly away, the lioness leading, and the lion, often turning his head to see that they were not followed, bringing up the rear.— Large Game in South-eastern Africa

The Decline of Dancing in London. .

Somehow London seems tired of.dan ciug. When the Shah was here, no remark he made was more relished than his question to the Prince of Wales while the dance was going on, ' Why do you not employ servants to do this for you ?' The perspiring Prince^could hardly explain, but so biety generally seems inclined to re legate dancing lo the corps de Ballet.

I This has been especially the case this I season, when the new fashionable skirts have gone to an extreme from • the liberation of the ballet. A lady was recently heard to say with a sigh, ' What with being tied around above and tied around below, I haven't had a good square sit down for three months.' When a large ball is given there is an apology for dancing, a few mincing Steps are taken, but presently the company falls to admiring each other's dresses, and it all ends in music and talk. Dancing bids fair to become a ' survival,' as the antiquar ians say. Even apart from any other entertainment, the great evolutions

which have taken place in dress make the English drawiug-room far more attractive than it formerly was. The room itself has become more beautiful and less flaring. Unobtrusive, quiet walls and stuffs rich, but of subdued tints, supply good backgrounds for the Ruperb and artistic raiment in which the ladies are now habited. I feel quite sure that the English ladies are not only wiping out the stigma upon their taste Of dress, but will ere long be noted as the best dressed people in Europe.— M. D. Conway's London Letter to Cincinnati Commercial.

Farming Hatters.

ROTATION IN CROPS

A judicious rotation of crops is abso lutely necessary in maintaining the fer tility of tho soil. This needs no demon stration, for it is universally admitted. But how to rotate to secure the greatest advantages is the main question. No specific directions can be given to suit every case, because ' circumstances alter cases' very much in regard to this point. The system that would succeed on one farm would utterly fail on another, and vice versa. Governed by general princi ples, the farmer must decide this matter for himself. Each crop extracts from the soil the elements essential to its growth and maturity, and by continous cropping, however judicious the rotation may be, the soil will eventually be exhausted. Hence the elements abtracted must be returned to the soil in the shape of fertil izers. This settles one point—that far mers must keep stock, and the nearer they come to keeping stock enough to consume what their farms produce the nearer they come to the most improved culture. The usual rotation is from the sod—corn, oats or barley, wheat, and then grass. In good soil two crops of wheat can be grown clover being sown on the first, in the Spring, which will furnish one crop and ono to plough under for second crop of wheat, on which grass is grown for future meadow or pasture lands. A prominent agriculturist recommends the following six years rotatiou: First year, corn, potatoes and roots, with ground heavily manured; second, oats; third, clover, ploughed in and sowed with wheat in the Fall; then timothy and clover sowed on the wheat in the Spring of the fourth year ; then let it lay in grass two years. Other systems of rotation have their advantages, suited to tlie surrounding circumstances of soil, climate, etc. In wheat districts, where the soil rests on limestone or plaster, a simple rotation of clover two years.and wheat one is found to be good, always premising that plenty of manure is returned to the soil.—' Ohio

Farmer.'

HOW TO WASH HOUSE PLANTS

Have a large pail or tub filled with warm soapsups, then spreading the fingers and palm of the left hand over the soil in the pot, turn the branches topsy-turvy into the warm soapsuds, swing the plant briskly in the water till every leaf has be come completely saturated, then put it through a pail of clean water, and rub each leaf with the thumb and finger ; give it a good shake, and when dry, return it to its place in the window. The leaves of a plant are its lungs, each leaf being furnished with hundreds of minute pores, whence the plants breathe in carbon and exhale oxygen. The perspiration of plants is said to be seventeen times that of a human body. Many plants never bloom on account of the accumulation of dust upon their leaves.. A plant too large to be laid down in a tub, as above described, may be syringed and each leaf rubbed clean with the finger and thumb, which are better for this purpose than a brush or cloth.— Land and Water.' SALT FOE CATTLE. Respecting -the use of salt for cattle, LN.M. in 'Lire Stock Journal' says :—' I have been a dairyman since 1832. Once a week was my rule for the first five years; then twice a week for five years more; then alternate days for about ten years; then daily for the last six years. In the winter season, when my herd are in milk, and fed upon coarse food, I salt three times per week. When dry, but twice. In the summer, I salt in the stalls, the first thing after stabling. I find in my animals a marked difference in their capacity, or appetite for salt. They all eat an allowance daily, with avidity—not one in my herd that will not consume three quarters of an ounce. My best milkers require the most; one will take at least two and a half ounces. I am satisfied with my present practice. I think I get more milk, and of a richer quality, since salting daily; am troubled less with garget, and my cows seem to be healthier. Some dairymen think salting a non-csseh tial; Ido not know of any non-essential in the care of dairy cows. Some of the uses of salt in the economy of nature, both in the animal and vegetable kingdom* may form the subject of a future com munication.' ~...■

Eternity.

Days come and go, in joy or woe. Days go and come, in endless sum. Only the eternal day . Shall come but never go ; 7, Only the eternal tide Shall never ebb but flow. \ j,o.long eteraiiy, My soul goes forth to thee 1,

Why" is Auckland like a pianoforte ?~- Because it is full of'flats and sharps. Why is the Sir Henry Havelock lodge of Good Templars like a convent ?— Because it is governed chiefly by sisters. Why is Ko. 3 company of Volunteers like Hope?— Because the members are constantly looking towards (Capt.) Morrow

The Peasant's Revenge.

(Translated from the French).

The schoolmaster who was commis sioned to procure me a night guardian sent me the prince of protectors, a man who, it appeared, was afflicted with as little need of sleep as possible. You will soon know the reason of this rare virtue. He spread upon the ground, near the fire, his sheepskin cloak, filled his pipe and lay down. This was the real Carpathian peasant, with turquoise blue eyes and long auburn locks, wearing still the na tional costume, a kind of sleeveless tunic reaching to the knee, and a coat ordinarily of plain blue with arabes ques upon the seams, living upon buckwheat bread and cheese, drinking water, bathing—never, limited to his cottage and inclosure, his right to fish in the mountain streams, respecting his lord, his priest and his vermin. His hard toil, like that of a beast of burden, ceased only upon Sunday, when he shaved, went to mass and got dead drunk. I talked of liberty to Stepan — this was the name of my guardian. He listened with profound indifference. But the impassiveness of fttepan to my discourse upon liberty .was changed to lively emotion as the evening advanced. ' Bailed1 (little father), he then said,' it is damp to night ; you ought to go in ;' or ' BatJco the stars are sleeping; do likewise.' At last every evening it was the same with the finale, ' AUez-dormir.' Kvidently I disturbed him. What did he do if he did not sleep ? One night Ij made a pretence of retiring and posted myself behind the curtain which closed my tent and watched^ him through the opening. I saw him at first going and. coming,picking up dry branches. Imperceptibly he ap proached the wood and disappeared in the shadow. I waited a few moments, there was no sound. I took a few steps in the direction which he had taken and I stopped. The sound of words reached me. stepan was talking with some one. A herdsman, doubtless, who was asking for the hospitality of our camp-fire. I re entered, went to sleep, and thought no more s about the matter. Two or three nights later I was in bed, unable to sleep; the night was mild, very mild, with a moon whose fantastic beams refined, lighted, and concealed every thing in a misty halo; its silvery softness was more beautiful than light in its harmony. I turned, and turned again upon my couch; it was impos sible to sleep. I drank some water; I counted a thousand; no sleep came, even the desire to go to sleep departed, and I opened my eyes wide. What had inflamed my blood? I instantly noticed that the moon was opposite me, and that she was regarding me strangely with her round, sulpurous face, as if distilling a luminous poison. Ob, wicked moon! It was the same which hung above me while I slept as a child in the cradle. I shut my eyes, but I felt her enveloping me in a haze ; I could have annihilated her. Why should she, the sorceress, come to re vive the inexplicable home-sickness, the implacable craving for excitement, which followed me everywhere ? My heart beat heavily ; I arose and went out in order to breathe.

I stopped suddenly. A few steps j from the fire, by the side of Stepan, a woman was sitting. She was a peasant —in the dress of a peasant—yet her features had nothing of the type. The two handkerchiefs placed in contrary directions, forming the head-dress of the women of this valley were untied." In the peculiar light her head was out lined with the distinctness of an antique cameo. There was an indescribable something in her expression, half-reso lute, half-thoughtful, which is rarely seen among her class. Her face was pale, large eyes of a yellowish Cast, : like the eyes of cats, her graceful figure in a scarlet bodice. Stepan was ! looking at her, and she was looking at Stepan, and in the magnificent and ! enervating glory of the Summer night :it was no more than a rustic idyl, but I the eternal, the brilliant, the magical i poem of love. The moon went down, and about the dying fire long shadows hovered. The woman had disappeared. I called Stepan, and after having ordered him Ito rekindle the fire I began to walk , about. Day dawned, laughed, and equally rejoiced and complimented Stepan npon his beautiful fiance. He sighed and turned away his head with out replying. These dull mountaineers speak only when they will, I respected the silence and the sigh. ' BatJco, it was Lonba, the wife of my neighbour; do not speak of her in the valley.' I was surprised. Morals are very pure here, where the barriers of custom separate the sexes. They never mingle. In the field, in the public-house and at the church the men group them selves on one side and the women upon the other; the children, even youths and maidens, submit to this custom. Chance, or perhaps the inconsistent desire to investigate to the bottom of things, induced me to take the road to the cottage of Stepan. It was at the declivity on the north side of the mountain and separated from the market town by the torrent. There was another one beside it which, until now, I had not observed, with a court, a vegetable garden and an orchard. In the court were a heap of manure, pools in which . ducks were sporting, a shed with a handl.eless harrow, and other old, worn-out "■ t * >.. .'i ;.'•_' jti.l CIO \iv.:.i '..:....'..■.'■ ./.iw .1

articles. In the garden a child was amusing himself in making the dew fall from the hemlock branches. The orchard on the slope reached to the wood on the mountain. The child entered the cottage, leaving the door open. Lonba, the wife of the neigh bour, came to shut it. How had she strayed into this wretched peasant abode, she, with her delicate, taper hands, her sbnder form, and especially that indescribable look, half-resolute, half-thoughtful. Aud I comprehended that if Stepan loved her it was for this particular feature, the elegance of her extremities, her undulating carriage, that are not seen amongst her class. I questioned the schoolmaster. He told me that Lonba was the natural daughter of a rich lord of the vicinity and of a popadianka, (daughter of a priest) whom he had seduced, and who died in giving her birth Lonba was brought up id the seigniorai house until thirteen years of age, at which period her father died without leaving a will. The heirs turned her out. For two years she went from farm to farm seeking employment: but she was the daughter of a szlachcianka (daughter of a noble) in person, lan guage and habits ; she knew not how to work. They beat her—despised her. At fifteen years of age, a peasant from Skole, observing her beauty, asked her to marry him. She was dying of hunger and accepted him. It was reported in the village that she did not love her husband.

Now that the ice was broken, Stepan, who had become very con fidential, confirmed this story. His, liaison with the young wife had continued a year ' And the husband ?' 1 asked.

1 Oh ! Batlco, husband !'

What profundity in this exclamation very where the same. Oh! the good and honest thing—husband!

' Besides, he is my neighbour and my friend.' After a moment's silence, he added:

' Would give my life if he were nei ther my neighbour nor my friend,' He told me that since he had kept watch near my fire —L ombo came on to the mountain every night to see him.

' Be prudent, Stepan.' ' It is needless, little father,' and he epeated with peculiar emphasis and confidence, the words: ' Fedor is my neighbour and friend.' Time passed and I lived very happily in this rugged and in harmonious country, but full of contrasts capable of moving one deeply. They are many; sometimes long hours under the radiant immobility of the heavens; before one, around one, everywhere, the contagious impassibility of the calm horizon, some times storm, a whirlwind pursuing the black clouds along the mountain si dcs, the thunderbolt which ploughs the summits, waking dull echoes in the savage breast. Toward the end of mgust the weather changed. For eight days a gray mist like a spider web spread over the valley, and moderated the air to a moist warmth. The thrushes sang; the sun set red and rayless. One morning the sky was overcast, and] the rain fell in torrents.'l .must depart,' I said to Stepan.

*' Wait a little, Batko ; this will not last; and you shall kill a bear in the new moon.' He informed me that for some time a bear had visited the inclosure of his neighbour in the dmsk of evening to steal the honey there. ' We are going to lie in wait for him, and Fedor has appointed me to invite you to go with us, if it will be agree able to you.'

1 accepted immediately and immedi ately we set about cleaning my two barrelled shotgun and rifle. Toward 5 o'clock the rain abated, and only from time to time a few large di ops fell. At 7 o'clock the wind had swept the sky, and the same evening it was bright moonlight. We went down to Fedor's cottage, who was expecting us.

He was a short, squatty man, with features corresponding to his figure, with an insignificant expression. I think I observed that his orchard extended up the mountain to where it met the wood. At the highest point, sheltered by a rock, the hives were ranged in a line. Fedor pointed out to me a fruit-tree which would shelter me, conducted ."tepan about a hundred steps to a buck tree and returned to me in an oblique direc tion, a little to the left. When be had taken his position I noticed that we were upon the same plane, separated by the hives only. Stepan occupied the summit of the sharp angle whose sides endedjat our station. I witnessed this with astonishment. I also obser ved that Stepan was in the direction of the wind, an extremely perilous position for the hunter. I remarked upon this to Fedor. He calmly ex plained that the bear usually followed along the edge of the rock; that he would go direct to the hives, and if my shot or his failed, he would very cer tainly retreat in the direction of the forest, thus presenting himself to Ste pan, who would cut off his retreat, half-hour passed, then_ an hour _ „I became too cold to remain thus motion less, and I moved. 'Patience, BatJco' whispered Fedor i Soon he leaped to my side. ' Look !' he whispered. I followed his glance A. bear was moving right toward Ste pan. He came from the opposite direction to that from which I expected him—from: that which Fedor had in dicated to me. Suddenly he stopped,

raised his head, snuffed the air, and again took up his march uttering little grunts. From time to time he opened his jaws, showing a small Jsenal of teeth, and breathing noisily, dke a cat quarreling with a clog l inspected alternately Stepan, the bear and my weapons. The bear was no more than six or seven metres from tepan. The attitude of the peasant seemed to be admirable; he had not yet even raised his rifle. ' He will kill the bear close to. the muzzle,' I said in a low voice to Fedor. The bear advanced a few steps; taen, with a horrible growl, raised him self upon his hind feet My double barrelled guv was levelled in the twink ling of an eve ; - was about to fire, Since fear, evidently, had paralyzed the imbecile stepan, but a hand, ot iron bound my arm. ' Peace, Batko, peace, said *edor, with an accent which chilled me. • A sudden-suspicion flashed through my mind. I now comprehended it all Everything had been premeditated skillfully, and at length, prepared: the. bear was accustomed to find honeym the birch-tree; he found to-day another kind of dish, served by the vengeance of a neighbour and a friend There then occured a frightful scene. With a bound the bear was upon Stepan; he placed one heavy paw upon the shoulder of the unfortunate man ; with the other he tore the flesh from his face, then hugged him in a close embrace, and rolled upon him I looked on powerless m a state ot stupor, benumbed like one who has taken chloroform, where every feeling of horror is annihilated, although hay. ing entire consciousness of everything passing. A shot resounded and, restored me to myself. Ihe . Dear rolled over a few feet from his victim. Fedor, running to the beast, said: Uto; «I shall get nearly ten florins' tor» this fnr, and with a government pre- mium that will make a windfall! 'Without counting the death of Stepan,' I added. , He looked at me; a hideous exulta tion, the legitimate transport of a wrong avenged, sparkled in his eye. The Carpathians were obscured; all about the shadows lengthened, faded out. Lonba wept. I depart to-mor row. ..'■ ■'■'<fr,--. -y-': '.-.v :■'.':■. inh

I C E.

Printed and published, by\ due propie ors,'" George •McCullagh Be«d, of St George's Bay,. aad H .&• y BraU, ot Parnell, at their lienerai' StcE.ui Priu'tUuji Office, Wyndham-street, in the: City :ofAricklaadi < i New Zealand: -—; ~.-■ ■■■} ~..,-■.- , .. Saturday, Auffurt 28,1«7S /

SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAB



TO" O T I P E.< in tpe supreme court of new >& i ZEALAND. NORTHERN DISTBICT. Between John Shaw, Plaintiff, and Jahes Holmjss Hanson, Defendant. __, . Whervas by virtue ot a Writ 'of Fieri Facias issued herein, ordering me that of the real and personal property of the above-named James « HOI.MKB Hanson, I should cause to be made the sum of £304, together with interest on the said sum ,v at the rate of £8 per centum per annum, from-the,; 23rd day of July, 1875, together with £1 13s 6d for the i said Writ, besides Sheriff's poundagfi, Officws Fees, • *C. Now Ido hereby give notice that. I shaU cause / to be sold by Public Auction by Richard Arthur at his Auction Mart, Queen-street, Auckland,on the 11thday , of November, 1875, at tbe hour ef 12 o'clock noon, unless the said sums of £304 and £113s 6d and interest - be sooner paid, besides Sheriff's poundage, Officer 8 i l^ees &c All the Estate, Bight, Title, and Interest I of the said James Bolme* Hansen in and to all those pieces or parcels of Land in the Province of Auck ! land containing 61 acres, more or less, being Lots 14 21 22 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29. and 30, of a Sub division into lots of Allotment Number 11 of the Pariah of Titirangi. in the County of Eden, in the Province of Auckland aforesaid. _ And I further give notice that the Estate or - Interest of the said James Holmes Hanson in respect of tbe above mentioied lands, consists of his equity of redemption tjr other equitable Estate in the # said lands, and that all the said lands, and all the estates and interests of the said James Holmes Hanson therein and thereto have been taken by me in execution at the suit of the said John Shaw, the : ;» Execution Creditor. " ;- , T Dated the fourth day of Augmt, 1875. , '■■'•_. H. C. BALNEANIS, ■ •; Sheriff.^ ; Edward BKNNjtTT, of Shortlaind-street, in the Citj,' of Auckland, in the province aforesaid, Solicitor for John Shaw, the Execation Creditor. : j TMPOKTA&T TO "T ADIES. SILKS! SILKS!! SILKS!!! fINDEfc COST PRICE.; .:, ft. W. DYSON HAVING A VERY HEAVY STOOK IS NOW OFFERING SPLENDID BLACK SILKS— p Worth 4/9 _) yard, reduced to 3/10 ! Worth 5/ _i yardj reduced to 3/11. Worth 5/9 _t yard, reduced to 4/9.',: Worth 6/6 ¥ yard, ..reduced to Sii. j Also, a large lot of ; SPL : NDID COLOURED" GRQSGRAINS In Brown, Drab, Slate, Bronze, Stone, Silver Green, and Blue. . <- SlLKS—Cheap at 6/6, reduced to 4/9. i SILKS- Cheap at 7/6, reduced to 6/9. ! SlLKS—Cheap at 7/9, reduced to 5/1 L • . \r_ j THE BiEST VALUE IN BLANKETS I Usual price, 24/; reduced to 19/lod. VHRY LARGE SIZES— . Usual price, 33/; reduoed to 27/6 V pair. EXTRA FINE QUALITY— Usual price, 35/6; reduced to 29/6 V pair. ; A LARGE LOT |OF FLANNELS, Heavy and Fine Makes, ' ■ ■ : .:■ '. :.'■■ .:-\ i—ni,,;' ' "--:. ; :-i ■■■ -r ;.v-? . CRIMEA^ FLANNELS, ;._ ..To be fluittedat T ~ ,' •.... ,'; CostPrk»s.. , ;: k:'^.v^x:son, f V'V-' ,T X MIP B All I F *i»j,K*X S E s3: « :"•";' ioPPOS IT E THE CI TV HA LL Next door to Brookes' Boot. Shop., ;