SUPPLEMENT TO THE AUCKLAND STAR.

THE YOUNG EMIGANT.

f'"-I- 3By John Blackma/- ! if L. Cheddar, Somerset; /cottage" on ?- Doiy Green and her^dson 6a a ir'STunder a spreading in tree, With j ■$;' Sard and cornfield^ the m ground. % ; / ; I g I-I ] I THE R E S»O tE. I ' i,kL islands by ocean encircled Dune. : ?£JreMUs by the Thames ovefuinberyng claims '^He Fortune may smile, th«h most tickle ot domes; f jj r ■.W world is before me-, I'm ypir, and I mean , ToXthat fair country," said u-istopher Green. Viane Christopher Green had it toned seventeen, ntTtoll well-proportioned, aiihandsome m mien, But Dorothy thought, as her cf go he passed, , &a(Christopher might be aIU too last; ; wSbEW*1 Well-a-day, you 'a the t ime to be gay, i?d sow the wEd oats of life'sprmg oy the way, Tien good from the field of aferience glean, Aadripen in wisdom Uke graifather Green. The youth lent an ear, and I/let fall a tear, ] Vpm leavuig the cot of his /andmother dear ; ; Ih .n brushpd it away, for f folly to cry, Vfaen setting success 'neaf a kindlier sky; ; And let weakness retard, timgh the parting be hard, And thwart the bright vievbf a ininly regard ; Taus mused Master Chris>pher, aged seventeen, U^on leaving the ividow-|i3 grandmother Green.

Hn TieweS the sweet spot,and the vine covered cot, The fields and the meadow, and neatly fenced plot, Vfhere primroses grew inthe season of spring, And ride s o'er nature thjir fragrance would fling, iqi ngbed, " Farewell merles, and ye fair village .girls, TVith your glad, merry laughter, and sun-burnished

carls, Tint romp in the lane overshadowed between Tie church and the cottage of grandmother Green.

If :vysiage temple, adieu! with your dark-spreading 1 < fl/aSS^my christening, and grandmother's pew, 9 1/ Sure oft Jhave knelt at her favourite shrine, m ■ Kelt thtffirst promptings of feelings divine ; B Tasini" village school, where my lessons by rule m - 1 knot when a good little boy on a stool, M ■ floods where in autumn a nutting I've been, , I I Jjkloaded my pockets for grandmother Green." I li mstrandmother gazed, and her spectacles raised, I F tout down her knitting, his talent she praised, I f M said, "My dear Christopher, courage you've ■iT I shewn - ■ 1 Tjjesolving to cross the wide ocean alone." ■jj 'TWn she gave him advice, said some words over ' ■fr.. inter own gentle manner, so winning and nice, W ■"; tfhile her face beamed with kindness and purpose ■3 serene, Wfo WMe patiently listened young Christopher Green. K§ "My boy, you are young, fell from granny Green's HP/ [ "■:■ tongue, ■ff ?jur talents as yet are but partly unstrung, H[. j m are leaving my home for a land far away, ■ jft. Where, while we-have night with its stars, you'll m! i Ko ridges of snow around Auckland will glow, ; ■JM^whanwe have bleak winter, there roses will grow,; ■fHßlHlKiourtree3 are leafless, there trees will be seen HfE their full summer beauty," said grandmother r|l Green. ■^Bii'linr hoar frosts, nor rime, chill that beautiful clime, RflSforiee such as we have at midwinter time ; ÜBPkr friends who have settled in Auckland declare, j ■■Kfjjough a Paradise not, ye? Mount Ed n is there ; • ■flßptaien coldness here numbs, there are peaches and HHRq\ ; plums, ... , .. ■ .■■■■■■ ■Rind fruits very tempting to fingers and thumbs, ■jHßfflth many a beautiful hill-bounded scene ;" ■I*s'Heavens!.l must,be, off. then," said .Christopher H V*<- ■' 4reen.: ' — ■ 1 .grandson, keevp heart, ne'er from virtue depart, k succeed I'm assured, if you get a fair start; | j| nest and faithful, be sober and time, i /action, believe me, will meet with its due ; ; I. ..'aaith for your guide, keep on life's sunny side, M _„. fn^Heaven and your own honest labour confide, PJ? i>nd oft let your grandmother's words intervene B. Tween labour and slumber, dear Christopher Green;"

The youth raised Ms eyes, said, "Your language!!' ' • prize, • '.""' j I could not, dear granny, your precepts despise, { Ana when I reach Auckland I'll sit down and write,: .' I know that my letteS? will give you delight; 1 111 send you the newa, and some lines fromm^must, Accounts of the goldflelds, and picturesque Vlctvs, | With porjaits of natives in shadqw and sheen, And the three Auckland papers, my dear granny Green.

The Arrival. Parnell in the distance. The city on a hill. Takes a: lodging uji Coburg-streeb. Writes to Granny :— "■ \

"Deaf Granny, my friend, I propose now to send , These lines, with my love, from beginning to end; ] Tie sickness and qualms of the voyage I've passed, : ' Aid safely in Auckland I'm landed at last. What I've seen I will tell, and I hope your are well, ' As you were when I left you in Rosemary Dell;' I think of you often at morning and c'en, And all your kind parting advice, granny Green, jj >

"We've hilla, rocks, and dales, and some outlying vales, . ■, rr. I A harbour where ships of moat lands shew their sails^ Wooden cots,.some fiower-trellised, oft out of repair^; A round-about city, a Judge, and a Mayor; But the general cry is a water supply, XX) % Which may come in the 'course of the years, by-and4 bye; ~ ,- ~ , Th 3 young Volunteers yet delight to be seen^ . , | With their guns on their ehoxilders, dear grandmother. Green. ' . ...

"WsVe no Rotten Kow, by a Serpentine'sflow,. ■ '. Where dukes, lords, and pampered proud do-nothings.

go; . •-.-.... ;.-■• ■•■'.. We've no titled-drones, nor grand people to court, ; No grim-looking workhouses here to support; ■■■m, y_ We've golden ore, yet we are getting in debt, ' Bat, granny, oh, how can our citizens fret, ■Where all is so sunny, so sweet, and serene,. r."j Though taxes springup like the weeds granny, Green

"Trollope came to this land, with his pen in his

hand, ~...;•, And wrote a fine book, which youTl get in the Strand; And Froude, the historian 's a coming I'm told, To stay for a time in this country of gold! ; "-.: Where a man may have caref, with his .horses" and wares, '"•, ■-' ■ ; ;;:•■■';*.V .;- ■'■&& And dividends none if he dabbles in shares ;'-■- Where a ' Green Harp' sometime.s.rpay.be.struck 'mid the scene! With strains sad and doleful, dear gjandmotherTGre'en

"We have many a Board, with intelligence stored, And such members as no other,place can afford, 5 Whose eloquent speeches, and learhed debates,! , , Might well be the envy of neighbouring states. I A We'ye policemen in white, who;do duty at night, And Justices sitting to. favour the right; "We've gardens of roses, and spots may be seen., - Where Sockß grow by thoiissEnds,' dear grandmother Green. , ~ . T -.'■*, v O~) ■ JEx

" Some say in their light,"that:free,ti;acle M-aTbl^ght, Aid scout the opinions of'Cobdefl-arid Bright; - £ x They talk of protection, these gentlemen meet, ~i! ■ i- Andhold their discussions in language discreet. Taey learnedly tell that a snaiHiaspshell,^7- V That sheep upon turnips -will thrive Very well; -J ■_• /, Tiiat t: c heart of fair nature is sheltered -within Green leaves, buds, and .blossonis, dear grandmother ~.~ Green. ' ''". X—~- --■.".-",.,••"'•,•■"." S'IISJCE %Aj£.ytLt ft "The young and the fleetlove a piortic and treaty , And some, like your pony, are sure on their feet^_^_^ I wish all our settlers -were stf6ngih-tiieii'"Esees > Ana drank not too much in the shadows of ease 1, j :'•. Yet folks live very well,.and 'tis pleasani>to tell <-' O- soirees and \ outs,' 'mid the musical swell O-'voices of children—a fairy-like scene, \i r a With their masters and teachers; dear'grandmother Green;, -..- .■. ■■ •■ -. .- < .■•.■■■■'• itu*} i—'* " Our children have sweets,- and; gtown'-uplfieople treats, j_~^ Aid works of the pbets, from Spencer to Keats, ■■•■ Aid ladies seem happy and spcial_andjCi- ee^ -- Aid often are inviting each other to tea^ V' j' t ] .^ "" IT9 ,pf wood, still theiy^re' cozyajfd good, \ <i" i i:-t '-T,sea to the rain and the mud; "~ i * 'IW^1 'K6li>\eep "your boots clean, i^si» >!< f TyfgT grandmother Green. N? HABMONIUMS, ,to be iold »t , fra*. f .prtcS^f 1!0p C4BH, in 'mmjmHua.A,** initonmenU «• Uib h«ndHom«rt, best k utd to be.told in, Kibw Zeftl*nd4 -f >.; a ! /. -1 n .^u ? r>^«r Humosinwi uid Pi»not OW HIB OPTION OiT PUECHABB lit the «nd of tl *^V nine, twelve, tigf keen or ; twenty-foar bob hire deducted Ik ' price of Iniinunent. ' |l*jw. f»rHOFPii!AN!'ft;SO» IS7 i:f

But those stinging sandflies, things one ought to despise, And their pals, the mosquitos, brought tears in my eyes, Those insects voracious, -witli appetite keen, Played the de'il with the face of poor Christopher Green. ." But the grandest of sights are our New Zealand nightß, The moon in her-splendour, the stars with their lights, Those bright emanations of wisdom and love, That sparkle and shine in their orbits above. Sights lovely as the?e, that beam over calm seas, And tinge with their lustre the waves and the trees, Fill the mind with emotion, and form such a scene As artist ne'er equalled, dear grandmother Green.

'• But, granny, farewell, I have much more to tell y But am weary of writing, and hear the night bell,' Give my love to the few—'Nancy, Polly, and. Sue, And dear Agnes, ■who Bits in my grandmother's pew. I send you the Star, from these islands afar, With many a sketch, and completely framed par, "Where the news of the province of Auckland you'll

glean, From your dutiful grandson, yours, Christopher Green.

THE SHELMIRE WILL CASE.

From an Old Lawyer's Diaky.

I do not remember a case in which. I ever succeeded so unexpectedly, and, I might add, by the use of such very simple means, as in the celebrated Shelmire will case. The principal credit of this success was not due to me, however, but to a young man, almost a boy, who was at the time a clerk in my office. He was admitted to the bar soon after, and has now got a flourishing practice. His name is William Way man.

. Jacob Sledmire, whose will was in con troversy, was an old man of eighty and up wards, who had lived many years in the city, doing a small mercantile business. He was a thrifty, economical old fellow, and the value of his property at the time of his death had grown to about £25,000. The old man had lived in a humble way, known only by the few with whom he did business, a harmless, unimportant old body, with no thing noticeable about him except his thrift, and therefore his death was an event which, in such a city as this, wa3 not calculated to att.act much attention. I had known did Mr mei-ely as a passing acquaint ance, for some years ; but I first became aware of his death upon the visit of a young lady dressed in mourning, to my office to consult me about the estate.. She was a pretty, thoughtful-looking girl of twenty or thereabouts, bub an entire (stranger to me. She mentioned her business ; and as 1 wa-s much engaged at..the moment with other clients, I asked her to be sea'ed for half an hour, and told Wayman to find her a chair. During my conversation with the men with whom'l was occupied, I looked occasionally into the next room (the door being open) and saw that my clerk had for once broken through his habitual reserve, and was stand ing by the young girl, talking in a low tone with her. But then I did mot know that Will had an acquaintance with hep. of some weeks standing, and that the preeent-call waa made pursuant to his advice.

At las^t the office was cleared of all but us three,' and I approached the two young

people.

" JS'ow, Mr Wayman," I Eaid, " you have been talking with this young lady, and have probably ascertained her business ; and as time ,is-.likely to be valuable to us to-day, perhaps you can tell me what she wishes a great deal quicker than she can."

I shouldn't have ventured to say as much as that .before'an elderly lady, who. might have felt called upon to resent my words as an imputation upon <■ her garrulity ; but I could see that there'was not the least dan ger of that here. ■■>->■■ .

. The young, lady smiled, giving, me to un derstand thai she understood my meaning ; and Will explained that she was the grand daughter of the late Mr Shelmire, and hia only relative, so far as she knew, and there fore entitled to iiis estate; and she desired to take such legal steps. A3 were necessary to Secureit..' "',';' "'"..'• i ~,'-'■■; ; '■':'■■r-: ; This,'as I have said; was my first intiata-'. tion of the old man's death ; and it was also; my firabintilnatiqii' that he had any family.; A few moments' talk with the girl put 'me; ,to rights about the facts. Her name-was ; Virginia Garvin ; her mother, had been Mr Shelmi.re's only daughter. The old man's' wife had died years before, and the daughter j (Virginia's mother) also died in a distant town a widow, when Virginia was'only-eight yearsold.' Left in poverty, without relatives, and almost without friends, she resolved to seek her grandfather, whom she had r never se'en^ but of whom she had often heard her mother speak. She found him, and he wel-

comeJJher warmly to his home. Virginia kiaew that he had purchased several adjacent. houses tgry'ctitiapl^; .and they had increased injyalue ; .and she supposed lie had deposited in. the bank, iv his pwn name, several thou j s^nd [pounds.-;-In>; short, the tobal rvalue of I the estate, real and personal, as I afterwards i discovered, .was rather above'than below £25,<){)q.T. rjo TZ'^CAdT?"- WHOS 1! Virginia stated thiat she did-not know of another living relative of the deceased beside herself, and believed tliere was" none. She said her grandfather ,ibad ( very,oftenfold her that^she would have all that he had when ihe died, and that he had given her the same iasaurancawken he was in his lasts sickness. " But there was'a will ?" : : . , ; ; ' ; * I She said, inanawerxtpihi? question, that he.^ad;fneVer said a word on this subject, and she was sure he would have mentioned ■it had rh6:made6rie,'as he had no secrets from Ao»pt I bade her go hqme and* niake acpe jhfjap^. ?h for snch !an"instrumetffe li;and fe g with \\e when ahehad done so.'-'.'«•'? S»^-th^ T th(9 3 iani| afternoon. She H.t /!> &W <i ;VH ■■■■

other way."

stranger."

had searched tlie house thoroughly, and par ticularly the little desk where her grand father kept his papers, and she brought me all that she could find in his handwriting # There was nothing more than a book of ac counts, three bills of goods sold, and some unimportant memoranda about his business hastily scrawled upon slips of uneven sizes. In looking these things over I observed that the handwriting of the deceased was very eccentric in its character. The up-strokes of almost every letter were very heavy* and the down-stokes light. The writing some times closely followed the line, and again went up above or below it for several inches. Its general appearance was anqxilar and un finished, and the whole struck me at first as an oddity in the way of chirography.

" Did he always write like this ?" I care lessly asked the girl.

"Yes, sir ; always," she replied

And then I told her to accompany me to a proctor's office, and I would take the prelim inary steps to secure the estate to her. Vir ginia, being under age, could not be ap pointed administrator of Jacob Shelmire's estate ; and it was my purpose to consult with the proctor and procure the appoint ment of some honest, trustworthy man, wbo would discharge the trust with fidelity to ths girl and all others interested. Those latter would be but few or none, as the girl had informed me that her grandfather never contracted any debts that she knew of, and that no bills had been sent to the house sincT h's dea'h some weeks before.

The office of the proctor was approached by a flight of narrow stairs, half way up which 1 met a man descending. I noticed nothing about him, except that he had a thick black beard and moustache, keen eyes, and was dressed in a suit of fashionable cut and make, and sported a large glittering watch! chain. He looked carelessly at us, and passed down ; and just behind him came another-a slim, elderly man, whose face seemed familiar to me. On reaching the top of the stairs I saw that my compan ion looked after them, and I asked her if she knew them.

" I don't know the first one," she replied. " The other is Mr Passmore, who used to help my grandfather sometimes in the ware house. He has been selling . off the stock since grandfather died. But I thought it so queer he shouldn't speak to me. He knows me just as well as any one can ; but when he.saw my faca he looked quite the

The incident did not disturb me at the time, although I did not fail to remember it afterwards, and to attach deep meaning to it. We found the procbor alone in his office, and I stated our business. The good man looked at us first incredulous, and then puzzled, and exclaimed: "Well this is strange —did you meet anyone on the stairs ?"

" Ye 3," I replied ;

" Mr Passmore and a

"Well, sir, that stranger is called Rufus Bledsoe. He states to me that he is a dis tant relative of the late Mr Shelmire s wife, and that he has the last will a,nd testament of Mr Shelmire himselE in his possession. He has applied for probate upon it, and have granted him a citation, returnable on the 19th of the present month. There was only one person to be cited, and she lives in the, city."

" Virginia Garvin?" I suggested. ■H Yes, that is the name."

This, of course, was all' the information that the proctor had to give. Bidding Vir ginia follow me I returned to my office.

My lawyer's instinct had already suggested a suspicion of foul play, in this proceeding ; and, after explaining to the astonished girl what T had learned, I interrogated her about the two men we had met. Bledsoe she de clared she had never seen or heard of before She knew that he had never-been to the house of her grandfather since she had lived there, and she had ne.ver.heard the old man name Mm. As to Passmore, she could add little to what she had "alr.eady told me of him. In busy times she knew that Mr "Shelmire was in the" habit of calling in this Passmore toassist him in his sales and accounts. Her grandfather had sometimes spoken of him as a good assistant, a faithful hand, but he had never been at the house until after his em ployer's death, when he came to tell her that he would carry on the busines? as usual un til the estate was settled, and would then account to the proper person for his sales and the balance of his stock. She had not

seen him until to-day,

I explained to Virginia that nothing fur ther was to, be done until- the l^th,? when the citation to attend the will was return able. I sat in a brown study after she left •the office, and then jumping up with a sud den impulse I snatched,myjhat,,'and went iup and down the streets of the city until I [came to tfie dingy warehouse that still bore jon its weather-beaten Bign-bdar'd overhead ithej name of Jacob Shelmire. I entered, and before me were the two men that I had imet onTthe/surrogate's stairs. They were ;whispering together - over, the desk as I en tered, awd Passmore advanced as soon as he ;saw me, and curtly demanded my business.

\ The bluntness of his manner, unexpected a? it was, threw me off my guard, and 1 Hsked without preface, ''Have you!any in terest, sir, in opposition to that of your Iste employer's grand-daughter I"

' " Have you any business to ask me such questions ?" he retorted, rudely, if not in sultingly.

its date,

"I am her counsel, sir," I replied, "and " " Yes, yes," he interrupted. " Well, bit, the -will is to be proved on the 19th, and if you are present you will know all about it." "But how about the -will?" I asked, " Virginia insists that there is none, and—' "She is mistaken," he coolly rejoined. "Mr.Passmore," I said, " from the rela tions that have existed between yourself, and this young lady's grandfather you shouM consider it your duty to acquaint her witl anything that may happen to your know ledge adverse to her interests. I ask yov now, sir, have you nothing to communicate ?' •" Nothing, sir," he replied, with a blanc smile. "Mr Pasamore, your a scoundrel, sir," 1 ejaculated. Mr Williams, you're certainly anythingbui agentlman," was his.tantalizing rejoinder, and with a mocking bow he retired. I went back to my office chaffed and irri tated to an unwonted degree, and entirely satisfied that a deep plot had been formed to cheat Virginia Garvin out of her inherit ance. I thoroughly believed it, but I could do nothing but wait until the day appointed for the probate of the will had brought ite revelations. Well, it came ; and I attended before the surrogate at the hour named in the citation with my client. There were also present Pas3more, Bledsoe, and a distinguished mem ber of our bar, whom the latter had obtained to assist him' The man Bledsoe produced an instrument which purported to be, and which he declared was, the will and testa ment of Jacob Shelmire. It was very brief, giving to Rufus Bledsoe all the property, real and personal, of which he-should die possessed. It was dated, I observed, about a year previous to the time that Virginia had come to live with'her grandfather; it was signed with the full name, Jacob Shelmire, written apparently in the same hand with the body of the instrument (and the writing was marvelously like that of Jacob himself,) and it was witnessed, or purported to be, by Thomas Drake, and Peter Lamed, both mer chants of the city. As he read their names I happened to know that both of them had been dead several years.

The will was proved by Bledeoe and Pass more, both of them testifying to the genuine ness of the signatures of both the testator and the witnesses. And Bledsoe, in addi tion, swore that he had received the will from Shelmire, personally, on the day after

The story which this man told was sub stantially as follows : —He was a nephew of the late Mrs Shelmire, and was quite a boy when his aunt was married. His new uncle saw him on that occasion and took ouite a fancy to him. The wedding, he said, \*as in a distant town, where his parents resided, and when the wedding party broke up Mr Shelmire said to him, "Remember me, my boy, if you ever want help." Years after, when chance left him penniless .in London, he remembered the circumstance, and went in search of Mr Shelmire ; and the old man gave him a warm welcome. " Your aunt-is dead, my boy," he said, "and I have no kith or kin on earth that I know of ; I had a daughter, but she is dead, too, and I can't learn that she has left me any children to take care of. You are welcome indeed^ my lad." With thia he took him home and treated him most affectionately while, he stayed. The old man was anxious to adopt him and keep him with him till death should them separate ; but Bledsoe was a sailor, and soon began tod long for another voyage, and at last told the old man that he must gd. The night before he went Mr' Shelmire sa]t up^fterlm usual bedtime, writing, and in the: morning he gave to his guest a folded paper which he told him would do him good sometime. The old man at the Bame time gave him £100, and leaving London the same day, Bledsoe had seen no more of ii? until the day before hia interviewr with the prbctbri He had been at sea most of the time since, and had learned by the,merest, chance in Liverpool, while looking-over the files of a paper of the death of : J^cob Shel", mire. Curiosity led him to examine.the document which he had given him, and hej discovered, to his amazement, that it-Was the! old man's last will and testament, giving a|l the property to him and making him his ex-' ecutor. In'addition to this the fellow swore

that he had often seen Mr Shelmire and both the witnesses write, and that hsknew, these were I(heir. genuine Bignatures.Kj "', ' \ "

'That the man Had lied from beginning to end I could not have the leasfe'doubt. I saw deliberate,' determined perjury in his snaky T looking eye. ' For two hours did I cross examine him, r endeavouring to ;find a weak : spot* mc his story,! but he had thoroughly I fortified Ijimseif, deliyered'iis evidence with, fall the coolness and nonchalance of an j expert. As f or< Pftsamore,-- he swore quite as i plummy as BledßoeJthat^s'yas well acquain-v j ted with this wJfti^g 'of all the^parties whose Jnaines were, on the> will, and that they were' j all genuine, Bignaturea. Further than this !he remembered distinctly .the' fact of 'Bled-- Jsoe's visit, and eyen wejat aojar as to swear jtbat Mr, Shelmire .Bent, him ior Drake, and ;Lamed the night before Bledsoe, left. lHe? said that he found them, and requested them to go to the honse on business, and that both had told.him they; would go. „,,r;, ; t £ .-, , r ,, ■ I could make nothing more of them than this j »nd the surrogate admitted the will to probate when the eianaination '^is -, f ; j .. *•'■'■.■..' "

From this decision I took an appeal to a higher court. ' I shall have nothing to say at present O£ the triumphant looks and actions of these two scheming villians, nor the grief and de spondency of poor Viiginiai The sight of her pretty face, pale and patient,1 and so very anxious, made me nervous and unfit for work ; and at last I told my student, :Will Way man, that he must talk with her when ever she came into the office. ■'■,-' ---" Tell her," I said, " that I am working hard for her, and that I will do all that can. be done.' And with that I left him to talk with her and comfort her ; and Master Will> as I have good reason to think, was not averse to the, duty, and pei formed it to the mutual satis faction of both. - Only a few weeks passed before the sitting of the court at which this case was to be tried. I had worked with all the zeal and fidelity of my nature, and with the incite ment of my sympathy for the poor girl; but when the day of trial came I had to confess that I had accomplished next to nothing. I could not find a single person who knew any thing about Bledsoe or his pietended visit to i the deceased ; and Mr Shelmire, as well as both of the pretended-witnesses to the will, . were so little known in the city and their ! transactions with business men which re -5 quired them to write had been so few, tbat . it was with great difficulty that I could find

any one who knew their writing. And of those who had seen them write, and who examined the pretended will, there was not one who could swear that either of the signa-

tures was not genuine. I entered the court on the morning of the trial with a strange feeling of hopslessness. Except the assertions of fraud and conspiracy that I could make for my client, I knew o* nothing that promised to tell in her favor. Virginia took her seat at the counsel table by me, and looked with interest and curiosity upon the unaccustomed scene. She was looking very handsome, notwithstanding the anxiety in her face ; and there were others present besides Will Wayman i who thought so too. I had almost forgotten to'mention tha deep interest that Master Will bad taken in the case since its commencement. I wanted somebody to whom I could talk in confidence about it, and ao he had become thoroughly posted in all its details. I knew that ho pon dered over them considerable, but I was far from thinking that he had worked out any sbiDg that could be of any practical use in the case. I understood him better before the

day way was over. ; . The case was called and a jury empaneled. The respondent's counsel opened the case in an address of half an hour, giving all the details and telling {minutely what he could prove. Then followed the evidence of Bled- Boe and Passinore, given as audaciously and completely as before the-surrogate. My counsel's cross-examination failed to entrap either of them into any inconsistency, or to shake their wonderful self possession in the slightest. At the conclusion of the respondent's cake my counsel addressed the jury in. behalf of' my client. He roundly charged perjury and fraud upon the two men who had occupied the witness box all the morning, pointing out the suspicious circumstance that both witnesses to the pretended will -were dead, and the difficulty of finding any one who knew their writing. , He insisted that the pretended will was a base fabrication, and that the Whole story of these men was a', lie, , coined..;anji uttered for the purpos^ of defrauding a ;pbor £irl of her patrimony. - moili ib'-io

Virginia told her fltory in brie^., She .told' who she was, how long she had lived with- Mr Shelmire,, and.iwhatsher relations'with him had been. The point'in her evidence' was that he had'ver^y'of tea declared that ;she' should 'be hia heir,; that he-had.never*'men' tioned the subject of a will to^'herf and tha she never heard him speak of Rufus Bledsoe. The jary were evidently.interested in- tha girJ, and I thought sympathized i with her ; but I well knew that this could not prevail against the strong affirmative evidence of the ■reaporident.'.,::/^'/',;,^ , H n hnnhihi>,ai Will Wayman had'sat quietly by i£cj iaftfe, taking minutes of the evideacje., Btei jnaw handed me a scrap of paper, folded, torn and soiled, with, the following written iipbh'it 1: * "..'-''. ■'.','- ' Vj'JL .iin'S'.ii adi £i«i!Jog hrua bissd j • &V jiuoS. JjPXYjthe.9fchi 18^it ; "Mr John Gregg: Please-send me/£^wbj barFfl flour; ,?; J b°' l**-n " i .... ,'■_;V^V^^^^y^J^li^ELM^i'1 ; I jheipersonrio ivrh'dm 'ihis' waa addressed had long been a large operator ih; **& supplied many, ot the,:dealer s .itf the-jcityv The handriting of this order seemed to me identical with that in; whibii 1 the' Will was written; and the date was the same year. i.igokecl enquiringly at WilLf ; ttorJ'jfi olai " Recall Bledsoe,'? hei <B*id :.iAfftf wMsp]eH! ('and let our connsel ask him whose writing 'that ia.",r;., ( , ... i; ,.v ~,[,-». [j^jj "iiaiiigii." I d.id so; Blqdeo* tppk the; paper .'in his hand,; ran his eye''keenly-'over "it, 'siid/in; answer to the qxxestion, said that this was iundoubtedly^JMok^-elQlitelsLhandwritiiig. ; I looked again at.my 3; c|eyk,.,i ; ,'i.|>-,v xO a i r '.?*; Ask bita}''< ah<ai whiijered, '"if f he^a?' snreJof it as Keis^tha^e^ writingintl^^ ; : :itM^oimii^a^ '■/;.' .deh^q' md !*.■_ stew I made bur counsel ask th'evqaelfipn; Und the lip! of the. f j^t^esft a\irle4 nnder^ &M mu?r i tache; Certainly he was.i n**o^l^';*!l^ could beWdoubt of *ath^r. trroW ,Ki 9 ff.Jo 'ii*h ■ I IlookM('ig«n•t'wml ''! jUhMi>o*«ft*>

"Let him go," he whispered, "and go through the same with Passmore." I did so, and Passmore clinched the evi dence of Bledsoe; He said that the writting in the order that I, had produced was Mr Shelmire's beyond question. He would know that writing anywhere. And Mr Shelcaire often wrote such orders and sent them by him. Had he ever taken any to

Mr Gregg? Yes, very often. Might he have taken this,! : Very easily j in facb, he remembered this particular order.

Mr Passmore. went down v ith an air of , easy insolence ; and WilJ, his eyes beaming with delight, leaned over and whispered again my ear. He did not utter more than four words, but they operated upon me like the shock of an electric battery, and the weight that, had been lain at my heart for six weeks was rolled away. In one instant our victory was insured. ' • I whispered to our counsel, and he called the name of William Wayman. > [ j Disposing of the preliminary questions as to who he was, his occupation, etc., our counsel asked : "Was this paper in your possession be_ fore I exhibited it here, just now ?" "It was." " Do you know who wrote that order ?" "I do." " Tell us about it." "I wrote it myself last night, for the purpose of drawing these two gentlemen into the trap they.have so cleverly walked into. And I believe that if you'll look close you'll find my imitation of poor old Jacob Shelmire's writing a great deal better than theirs." ~. ~ ~ , ~ This was virtually an end of the case. The jury began to cast indignant Jlooks at Mr Bledsoe and his companion, both of whom turned white and red and looked

Very uncomfortable. The judge simply told the jury that it remained for them to say, from the evidence, whether Jacob: Shelmire had executed the will in dispute ; and.with oiit leaving their seats they found that he had not.

One of the most remarkable things con nected with the trial was the. sudden disap pearance of Bledtoe and Pass-more. fifteen minutes after the verdict I had a warrant for their arrest on a charge of per jury and forgery in the hands of, the police, but they never found them. They had fled, secretly and precipitately, and -we never heard of them again. I can only say that I have full faith in the truth of the words-^ ! " The way of the transgressor is bard." Some days after the trial, I, said to my clerk, "Will, Will, my client, Virginia Garvin, will not be of age for some months yet, and it, is necessary to have an adminis trator and a guardian appointed. |Do jpu kino'cir whom she would prefer?" ~ i i iUj" I have no doubt, sir," Will solemnly responded, ', " that she would prefer-me. And as I am to become her husband in,ts-o weeks, you will concede the propi-iety of the

suggestion."

I did more ; I shook the splendid feilow

by the hand, and wished him, a whole cen-

- fury of happiness. And I, was not above acknowledging to him, then and there, that his adroitness had saved Virginia's case, and ttiat there was a pecuiiar fitness in lier choosing him r for her life guardian.: 1 ) - 1 >

LITTLE DAISY.

j Darling'"Wttl^^iy, rrrosiyTwofeara old-J I Eyes as blue as.yi^ts, '' Hair, a trail of gold ; j Cheeks, as'red as roses, j .. Or full, of sunny dimples, . T b' ?>';;■' i Creeping'iii aiia but. ' [ .'■'! Busy doing hothine;, "_' ' utotio idti^ HaadssOtired'grow ;' :!^r -'fl' > J 1 1 ri Little feet jalj, daj; long, o i ,ro :: 1 I For ever come and gp.; , ,! a s,L» i 1 Climbing,'Jpee'ping1 everywhere, H«»t7r a r,Aßking;tftjDgß!o£fme,'> 0 jnoli«fto Where,l 4o not waa^iher/.^^.ji, ;- v *^, -_a F> .'jqasoß sure to' be.' ! 6VT9 Merry/dainty ! . i&s ;-.'; J Heart'as light anft free ;c >iw '.1? ii;i^Sf|bhe i :.peTtumed zephyr: rti oiWnq j Rocking rose, and,bee. , 815 ,«, jj I ig:i\ ii Ur'-Pa'rt':witlithee?'" No; never, . . . 9 ;iio on ed .N6t*6r>woriaß'%ofild I! :i ij3lJ>cy j lA , fsK .;.Al| the wealthsoMndies'! >rii n^ < | Wee Daisy could notrbuy !. ; ~ , I gniasmsoq |° n^l3>« " •* * " . .: tratlw smiasvo s^.flO .ri*snai*B nftaißO^Q.i '*' Parting little J)aiey,, .„,.,.„, 1 , M r; L'«ogqß ;«' 'Still, and 1 wtiite.'andcold?, v?vu I.^iiiyoilet eyesare'are-Mde'd,^ m 9oefl , ,' ( o!^eajbh-.thjeir r friage,oigold;;'ia ; v;o ' "'r Che'eTts, like snowy lilies,.. , *.~ {ita Bid has I* ?E.dse-li^'p'Mlib 6alu:ty t dS&, Jv' .j f [ htifaaoi or!« tor .':oirSo¥tiy'winged away, . '" r "...,) g&inaiia Pac'tbeyoll'd th"c star-fifts i f ,:.r... s \--r,^eftfnie.,,J^lt F^e;,jp||iy.r/:j;;r;->T fiifflS ". When I cross the river . ..,^,,„>,,,, ofl^- lo Fit Hi-jibnoiv'tvliit'r^sliali see, ' ■!>1 ; o ,f.j ,-.* r,,Aijbiny:angel-near ttie throne, ;r; Raiting ihe.refpf me. .. ■on'mmht

TO A YOUNG LADY DOWN WITH THE MEASLES.

•rfif .'Oh, wJiataciirsetheseifleasresare, .. • Tliat^ink.thegiflsbepeatlitheirrban,<£io li^ ;ii * !]§ut tH^re is comfort in the thought— I not'fatal, Mary.'Aim.- It.;; oqsati | S -,•' -Hayehope,-the meaaies soon \vill pass> ■-■-' ■ ■"'-' Andtry,.be.,cheerfta,.if you can, , !rrr ,i,f. tl ■is PAnadoribi^readth&medclneso, « ■ .. But take-it freely, ■■Mary..Ann,., ,v t n + [-off:;/: .1O38X& r, o3 iJ''i -■■' ■: ■ " ■ Keep in. the <waxm, with your mamma, A - 301 WCi •89 Vina don't forsake the doctor's plan, r _ ■ , r AJidßo6n themeaßles'willibeo'er^-;' -'; . - '< ■ WeaUniusthavatheni, Mary Ann. .1 o:- f'-i?-*"'-v:J ''■ " IJ•'" ''" *'"'-. "

Vii ;:_ ■_"' 1 '^enerat Butler tells of'a ciyijjservice, <s»ndj-, laWivfitiiJ^ against the question,' <<>l What 18' he distauea of the sun from the earth ? "that ia c9aldn^t v tell,|h t e,.f^act[,di§^nc^, -but. b.e lidn't think it was near enough to iutetfere rith hit duties aa poiVSffic^ aSrf.^'-o*^*'^

SOCIAL FALLACIES.

We commit the still gfeater error of cilunginij into" ife^-WflteT' every 'morning, then scrub all the «kin off with!a horse hair brush or a coarse board towel; sit down to breakfast'of oa»Tii^Fsa*dust; -line off atable-spooriJul of wh.eat'and two berries, and make a suppei^on^catnip tea then be put through a Eussian'bath of five hundred decrees; sleep under a!n open window when the tberinometer,is at.zero; wear long hair; dress the women ip! panta loons; make all Our "property over to them, then sit down in the'kitchen-corner and nurse the baby, and 'when it is asleep, wash up the tea-things, arid go to bed at nine o'clock to be " out of the way." What will become of us'meri?' Surely we have fallen on evil times. A better and truer mode of life is to have plenty of everything thatis gobdto eat and drink, which imparts nourishment and^ strength, and as much of it as you'want.'>i?lhfe idea of getting up from the table hungry is un natural and absurd and hurtful—quite as much so as getting up in the morning before you sleep it out,, on the mischievous principle that " early to rise makes'a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." • ; ■•''?'- Early rising, in civilized' society, always tends to shorten life. Early rising of itself never did any good. Many a fanner's boy has bean made an invalid forlife by being made to getup at daylight, before his sleep was out. Many a young girl has been stunted in body and mind <■ and constitution by being made to getup before the •system has had its full rest. All who SreigrcSwing, all who work hard, and all weakly persons should not get up until they feel aslit they would be more comfortable to getup'than to remain in bed; that is the only true measure of sufficiency .of rest: and"«feleep. Any one who gets up in the morning feel ing as if he " would give.anythingl in the world'" to remain in' bed a while longer, does violence to his own'nature,, arid* will always suffer from ifc-^not immediately, it may be, but certainly'in later years, by the cumulative ill effects ;of the most un wise; praotieei,. In any given case, the per son who gets up in ithe'morning before he is fully rested will'lack'just that much of the energy ;r<'quisitei for the day's pursuit. As a people, we danofc get enougti sleep we do not get enough :rest;rwe-'will not take time for [these things; hence: our nervousness, our instability, ;OUr:'hasty temper, and the premature giving out of the stamina of lifei Half'of us are old at three-score, the very time a man ought to be in his mentaj, moral, and physical prime. j 'Half 'of, our "-wives, especially in. the; farmiu'g5 district's^ die lon^ before itime,-'be'cauSn': tKey''.do" not get rest and sleep proportioneal r TOc£heir labour. IS'ine times'but of ten, it would he; better for all paVties if ;thesr farmer should get up and -light, the fires "and prepare the! breakfast' for his,, wife, she conrng directly from her ? ibreakfast table, because" it almost ;a}ways happens thai dhe r ha9 r to rekfaainupi ;to set things right long after: the husban'd^ has gone to bed, when really The has nothing to do after supper- but to go to bed. !rr<!This is a monstrously cruel imposition o^'w^ves and mothers.. _ :i^i'-^f« a

RUSSIAN GHOST STORIES.

I, In a cerf airi rviilage there was a girl !who hated-work; but- -lovedgossip;''"So'^she never spun herself, rbutused to invit'e'tho other girls to; henihousei where1 she fasted' them and they, spun: for 'her. ■'•OD'ifting one oftheseigpinning feasts a dispute* arose as to which of the party was thef fcoldfest. ---" I'm not', afraidf of.taniysthfag.'-f'^aia the lazybones; [vviniq t»teaiittk>ojfa2 : L Vi ", Well, theDi") said.theospinnerk,"'"if you're : nol?Mfraid, goi through Vthfe^grave yard into the>. church-,* taka d©#tf'the' Ifoly picture from the door, and bring it; here," ;. -' : 'Tery- gooSi-'f-said she^^i'irtbnng it, only-each .'of iyou>mus*i spin me a distaff full.^v::- »OI iol 19J& fliw Wolt I>lW '^" Well, she went to the* church idownnthe^picture fand > brought'it%ome jvfithheri 'But)theaithe! picture hadtp f^be taken (home (a^aihi randjthei midnight ['fi^ux hadfawivedi: Wlhoiwas*tofafce i<l? « pw r^f'Gofon. spinning,! girls;" :Haid?-the slaiy-= bdoesii^ I'll'takeit Back my self ■; 'tl'^ Mot "£ afraid of Anything:" '^h -at &?ia5X«« Jini i j So she went back to the chtirck, and re-f. plafced tbe pictur'el nAVsHeipais'ed.thi'b^gh , sthe graveyard; oai her "ret'ur'ny ihS'SaW a corpsedh a1 white shro ruii'sittingpii'ia"Itb'^b. It was a moonlight*'night andieyerythiiig was visible^; She> Went up to the!'corpse and pulled fits; shxoiid''bi& for (Stirring hadn'tiarri^ed perhkifsi' 'Then"she ■ wient Jfomei carrying 1 the^shirbud with Her. t After supper,- wheri evtefytoddy had gqhe i to bed; alliof & «ttcld6n th r e"|COTp's'ea tapped 4 at•> the o winddw?i'sayingi ,fs f *f'©ive td& my shrdiid:! roi Give iie'- km ? slirouxli f rr rother>^irls ;wereirfrighyriferd'bul of 1 *Hsir wits.- But the lkzybonestM'k the'shrdukl, opened(thewindo^and-fatid: t ' )7n^ !„, " There, take-it^-l^ idJißaJloOdsufM* "No," replied-thp-corpser"take it to the pjace-you took itfrprg/''^. 3 ;-f [IT Jusf then a cock /crowed V the corpse vanished. ~ . _ . . „,« w •TS ext hight Tat the'Vame hour, after' all tie spinners Ihad/gone :Wtheiriown:¥om'e'j(}ilie corpsej ca.mft-again, ,tappedi at.<the window, and ■cried :'v. a : .4-,..^ nnif»EsTr s vi*/«o '°" Give me my shr^udM ' ~ ; •'jWfell 'thVgiVl's^athepiaßd1 ihb'ther'dp<en edjthe window, andJofferedathejodßpaeaite .. shroud, b,u,t {|34^rxi£in P nw^yhtvisdi ••JNo! Let her carry it.back to the,place she took it fr6m. J. „ ~ \ c■ I «FtistHhen; the Cbck sbegatf to crOw1 -^- the corpse di S appeare!d.i:;W;em)H«s ( t,da.yitl(ey sep| for r the griest,itold Jxim.the whp^story and implored h^' to "help* ,them.. Tg& priesf ;>rMecte1d a i:wHilß; rahd: then ltold th© girUto'conie to^tnass next day.? So iutim morning she went r tQ t . !; njftss- ..^hg/Sespp began. ifumbeßß^Qf-peoglerrcanie to it. But just-.a*, |hm .vmrfi?m is 7*.?? }M * '•'Ghenißjm iinng^(; Q a^ter|ible, £l^hirlw! in4 m afb^,.' Andi( caught ; .UjP tf)at.gxrl ,in fl ,thf air/aad then flungfheiaQwn.on.the^pl^d^ And^traightw^y l t«e,gjroMapge.a^ I sigjh',t^ rflptliing c^H; s.gpvej; () fbun|L| j6|^g^ ■ ; - exceptlier-backjhai^.l, 'ni?ig,^9h doy ' .-id! .OV4 HOT Juiß ; SfJ;jJB3 J;O P/U-oVf^J! \t) i.^. I . f ,A w,as ,qrjvir^g home on.c nighty when liis; hoir^e./came- tg. a-;,.jstapdsjkiui^ jjflon^f a/gra^ejya'rd;. j.So'h,eJ < unh»y" 0 T . ~ jitj-, anja»le^j (^t|graze am ( ong JtK^^ Sj^Jf*.^,*^'l^ Jon^jO^'w^iqhj.hk^str^ii-'^''^ .*; ■»■', i^±;..*>&* vd'-ff he couL|';- V>',^f!lP ?®i>' ' 11|:| ".'''' gp^- BALi -1.1 HAS AbYMniISMD^AVP I* A ,vi iiiiS.u I ■"■■ : ' J? .^-■• rf.^^»*.^"i^--«lei^