"EVENING STAR" SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT OF ENTERTAINING READING.

No. 50.]

AUCKLAND, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1876.

[Pkice: ONE PENNY

OPENING OF THE THEATRE ROYAL.

INAUGURAL ADDRESS,

m now dares say that Auckland lags behind, hfc thac chastens, purifies the mind ? "a ts and Science, Letters, Music, Song, [erinh any of the island-throng. 5 Pioneers ! remember you the past, _ ' fa first y°ur waS 1U Province °Hu«hey Carletoa did your senses | Rth famed I Dame Burden" warbled in— LenaaSkedtidea, up Lower Queen ! street flowed, ind p a? !i Firth's mill, the cargo-boats were JThereSfl now stand, the native fires up- Ld pSd'a* grand (!) .hostel—" Help me through the world," TTnid up to our detractors the stern truth, What Auckland was when you could boast of youth. Her quagmire-streets, where you oft lost your shoes, And weekly, (from a mangle) culled your 'Whereiww are metalled roads did cattle ((Place Bthis* and more before their mental | Point tfour stately mansions roofed with ' And then bid each, ono hide his shameless head. Did you, old friends, in far past days of yore, In wildest dreams, see what was held xn > fpot yourradopted €Sity? Could you guess T'woukl reach at last, such perfect lovah- That buildings (like Insurance) would arise, ©"stores like Shera's (touring to the skies.) Andall belief in days "lang syne" refuse, la Temples auch as THIS to grace the muse ! la days of yore, when actors (!) -save the mark; . Eeached Auckland's shore in a mosquito And didiu wooden whare " fret their hour," On rash-bestrewen, or saw-duat sprinkled I floor. . ... T^s " scattered public" met them with acclaim, , And him remembered each forgotten name ! The''mangle print "their brows bedecked ■wifh bays, f Those who would not gain a hearing m our I Fair Auckland's youth, your present lot con | traat, , , \{ Your pleasant lines, with the far dreary past. , . 7 "Reflect on him from whom they mainly came, / And bless the mem'ry of John Williamson. i Through him, no longer numbered with the hoars, Wealth, talent, mind, come trooping to our shores ; „. x , , (And quicker still will these fair Isles be sought, . \ When Vaile'B new engine's-to perfection brought !) ~.•«. Tho' darksome clouds, are hov'rmg m tne sky O? our advancement, they'll pass swiftly by. Be sure the prosperous all-refulgent day. Is near at hand, the dawn ia in the GREY. | The Old world's "Stars" in different orbs, who've shone And held entranced vast concources at •" Home," . . Whose matinees crowned heads have dsignecl to grace, We meet them here in Auckland, lace to face S In letters waffeed by some favoured barque, Have reached us—Trollope and the gifted Clark; . .. Fair Instrumentalists, who've bid our breatti ing pause, Rano-Goddard—Viol— Jenny Olaus ! And thou ! bright bevy, our hearts who ye With instrument-the One time^by a sweet Carandinian lay; Now silver warb'lings of fair Alice Mjy- De Markka's strains scarce faded from our When lo* another Cintabrice appears ! But does not Choral Hall appear a den, To Jh wherein is shrined the Simoasen ! Base ?ngrat«B should we be if the emprise md Sh! of those who bid tins fame Be unremembered. Lot not history teU. S^'fftSi) "*°' three times three, , And one cheer more for Barnett and ie'v^' ~ * * * * « * * * ****** ****** The reading done-11l hie to other P«^ And seek through " Lucia " to reach your hearts; .... Hoping by you to bo oft borne m ™ad > When I've migrated—to some d clime. T. B, Hannafobd.

Dr Hall says : 'Eac regularly, not over three times a day, and nothing between meals.' Tramps will do well to cut this out and put ifc in their bank books. A robber who was recut)y arrested for breaking into and entering a city store, told the officer that it amused him to sea folks put two or three locks on their front door, and tbeu fasten the back door with a small

button.

The Mother-in-Law.

Left a widow, after a few years of most unhappy life, I retired with my two children to a small town where I intended to subsist upon my very moderate means, and devote myself to the care of their education. 1 think the enjoyment we have in our children, before they reach the age of 10, is very great. Ail faults and evil tendencies seem so sure to be eradicated with time, we can scarcely believe the pains we are taking will ever have any but the desired result. These early promises are so beautiful! Every childish liking seems a talent, lacking only opportunity to develop into ex cellence.

My girl and boy went to school in the morning. In the afternoon we walked together, and we all three enjoyed those long rambling walks. Then our tea table, and our evenings, when I read to them—how delightful was our companion ship ! How I tried in every way to sow the good seed. I have said that my means were small, but my wants were few, and I considered it my duty to make them fewer, for my children's sake. I took care that they were always well dressed, often working until late at night at their clothes—my own were plain enough. They never knew, of course, the sacrifices I made that they migtit have pleasure. That my children loved me, respected me, I need not repeat, Their first thoughts always seemed to be of me. At Christmas they presented mo with horrid little daubs, which. I still treasure, tied up in little packages, and dated. Ah ! happy, happy days ! —days when a paper of sweet-cake is sufficient for happiness.

The days came when they grew tall and less dependent on me. James left school, and, 5.3 my means did not admit of his going to college, I obtained admittance for him into the place of business of a friend. One day, I heard an acquaintance say that my son admired a Miss Benson. Then first shot into my heart that acute pang of jealousy which I had heard a woman feels when another woman dares to lay claim to her son —a bitter, unreason able feeling, but strong and fierce, trample on it as you may. I asked James about it; he laughed at the idea. A year later, he announced that he was engaged to this very girl, and asked me to go and see her. I went. She was tall and very thin, and stylish-looking, with reddish hair. She wore a great many flounces, and a great deal of jewelry of the pale gold, kind. Vfer manners, were very gracious to me, but • somehow or other there was something about her that seemed to say she was the ons who had always had a right to James, while I stood out in the queer but awkward light of one whose claims upon him were very trifling, and quite recent. When I went home I sat in my rocking chair for about an hour, thinking. I had understood the formation of every kite he had ever flown, fathomed the capacities of every toy cannon with which he had ever just missed committing suicide, overcome the mysteries of marbles of every degree, loved every puppy and kitten he had ever adopted and taken to his heart why could I not at least try to love this reddish-haired girl? People congratulated. ' Oh ! yes, I was very much pleased, not losing a son at all Oh ! no—only gaining : another daughter !'—' Delightful, certain ly, and early marriages are, as you say. very desirable.' A year afterward, they were married, and remained some months with her family, during which time I saw her often, and cannot say that I had any fault to find with her. Then James sought and obtained a very good position in a town distant about 100 miles. At first the news was very satisfactory. ' Charming little house, the perfection of servants;' and then, later, ' loveliest little baby.' my grandson. Then, some months later,-things were not quite so bright. The baby had had the croup, my son himself a touch of the intermittent fever, servants were great plagnes, housekeeping a dreadful trouble. Disturbed beyond measure at the reitera tion of these lamentations, I decided to go and see for myself how they were circumstanced, and be of what assistance 1 might for a short time. So, one winter morning, leaving Fanny with au intimate friend, and intrusting my house aud all it contained to the care of one servant, I leit. home alone. Arriving after dark at my destination, I found the two young ser vants enjoying a very comfortable meal in the kitchen. My son and his wife were out spending the evening with some friends. Their surprise and pleasure at seeingme upon their return home appeared great Upon conversing with Maria, the next day, I found her to be very ignorant as regarded baby's requirements. 'He does cry so dreadfully," she said _ I stayed there a whole month ; perhaps it was too k>E£ but there always seemed to he something for me to do. I took charge of the little .creature whenever his motner wanted to spend an evening in company, which was not seldom. Many and many

a lonely hour did I spend in that dimly lighted-room, listening to that low breath ing, rather that trust him to the awkward ness of the young girl who professed to fulfill the duties of a child's nurse. I did a great deal of serving for Maria, of whom I became fonder than I had ever expected to be.

James had a relapse of his intermittent fever. His wife knew nothing about sickness ; I nursed him—l, who had never known fatigue when he needed anything in former years, would not fail him now. I sat up with him night after night, and showed the cook how to prepare nice little dishes for him, such as 1 knew he liked— that is to say I, prepared them while the cook looked on. Whatever was wanted now, upstairs or down, I was the ono to plan and to do. At last I began to think I ought to return to Fansy ; and. seeing James fairly convalescent, I sou -Jit the train for my journey homu-ward. ..Sitting in the i'ailroad car, a party of youn^; people took places in front of me, laughing and talking with animation, principally about persons I knew nothing of except by name. Presently ono of them began to talk of my son's wife. \ ' I used to see a great deal of them at one time,' she said; ' but—' ' But what ?' asked another. ' Oh! well, they had a mother-in-law raging around lately, so I have kept away.' ' So have I.' Here followed a laugh of derision. ' A mother-in-law !' exclaimed another, • that is hard; I do pity them, indeed.' ' But I hear she is off now.' • Glad to hear it. Have you hoard the new opera?' I was tho mother-in-law on whose ac count friends kept away. I remembered the weary nights in that sick room ; the weary days ; when suffering from loss of sleep, I struggled to keep my eyes open, that I might attend to various little household duties, —which of all this was the ' raging round,' which excited the risible muscles of those lively young people ? I thought of Fanny, her good looks, her intelligence, her affectionate nature, and found myself wondering what her future was to be. But here we are. There she was waiting to meet me, dear child ; but there was some one with her, a most insignificant looking individual, with very prominent eyes and large whiskors. Why did my heart sink with a melancholy fore boding ? How glad she was to see me again! She introduced her companion to me as Mr Jenkins; and, whereas 1 was all anxiety to be alone with her, Mr Jenkins, with a great flourish of politeness, walked all ths way home with us. Before I could untie the strings of my bonnet he told me that Fanny had promised to marry him ! I was thunderstruck, having in the annoyance of his presence forgotton my forebodings of half an hour before, I had read with much attention,in various highly lauded books, of the great and imperative duty of bringing up a girl to be athelp meet for a noble man—this dapper*little manikin! He seemed amiable, but so utterly insignificant. He had uninterest ing parents, and weak, plain sisters, all of whom made a perpetual amusement of tho engagement. My parlor was given up to them entirely —that is, to him and his sisters. I seemed always 'do trop' when I entered, by tho sudden silence which followed tho animated talk. My coining; was an interruption. 1 began to sit up stairs. I always walked alone. Having avoided all society and all acquaintance ship when my childern were young, that 1 might devote my whole time to them, I found myself now friendless and desolate. Friends, like plants, must be cultivated. I found no congeniality in either of tho two families with whom my children were connecting themselves.

After two years they were married, arid after a year of boarding, aspired to the dignity of keeping house. After looking at many dwellings, one was selected, one which required a great many repairs, and now my services were in very grtat request; I attended to all the directions Mr Jenkins wished given to the workmen ; I stayed in the cold empty rooms all day, when there was nothing to sit on but an empty caudle-box. I did the necessary quarreling with plumbers, and bore the snubbing of the upholsterers ; and I put the furniture in the places I thought best, by degrees changing it all to suit his tastes. I washod all the china and glass : and sometimes fancied, when I got dirty doing all this, that I was happy. I hnd been so long accustomed to work for those I loved that it was hard to learn that there might be any reproach connected with it, I must do Fanny the justice to say that she was very kind and grateful to me. On the last day, after having some cold tea out of a pitcher on the corner of a tnantel*pieco, I overheard Mr Jenkins, who had brought a friend in to admire his new dwelling, say: 'WeJ the carpets are down, the furniture is all here, and I think now when we get our servants, and engage a baker and milis

man, and are entirely rid of the mother in-law, we shall be ready to move in.'

Both my children married, I had my solitary little house to myself, and very solitary it was. I tried to get up some spasmodic friendships with my neighbors, but, being hollow, these forced intimacies soon fell though. But I ought not to complain ; it is tho way of the world. I only wonder if, considering the love we have for our children, young or old, the world is not apt to be a little hard upon the mother-in-law.

Chased by a Pirate.

All who have crossed the equator in a sailing vessel cannot fail to recall with pleasure the first symptoms of tho coming north-east trade winds. In the belt of variable winds and cat's-paws known as the 'doldrums,' or 'horse latitudes,' where a ship often lies becalmed for days, the ocean swell causing the sails to flap against tho masts, the patience of the anx ious caphan is often sorely tried, the mates lose their temper, and Jack himself becomes demoralized by reason of much bracing round of yards, much hauling up of courses, and much rigging in and rigging out of booms. It is then that all hands rejoice at the first symptoms of the coming trade-wind ; the cat's-paws, befoie uncer tain and variable, now seem to be coming in earnest, and the sails begin to fill, and cease flapping against tho masts. It is about eight o'clock in tho morning, the hands have scarcely finished breakfast, when the Captain, taking a good look over the port quarter and into the binnaclo, ex claims;

'Here it comes at; last; as soon as the men have finished breakfast, turn to and board fore and main tacts, get out the port booms and prepare to give her all the muslin.' Tho hands, tired of what they call hum bugging, turn to with alacrity, and make sail. The gallant little bark begins to move ahead at tho rate of a couple of knots, but before the studding-sails are bent on, she heads off about south-south-west. The Captain says: 'Hold on the booms, Mr. Smith; the wind is far to the east, and she won't lay her course.'

But the wind seems to be a settled fact, and the ripples under the bow indicate three or four knots. Every sail is critic ally trimmed for ' a good full and nothing off,' and tho forenoon watch allowed to turn in. The spunyard muck is rigged; the sail-maker gets to work on a new sail; the carpenter rigs his grindstone and puts his tools in order ; the Captain gets a sight for a time, and goes down to work out his position, and once inure look at Maury's chart, and try to make up his mind as to a ' good full' or ' close at it,' when he hears the cry of:

4 Sail ho !'

The mate responds : ' Where-a way ?' Jack, who is making up the gaskets on the main topgallant yard, says : ' A point before the Ice beam ; a schooner, hull down, standing the same way—'

She is not visible from the deck

By this time we are going along nearly six knots, the sails are all asleep, and avery man aboard feels exhilarated at getting the so-called north-east trade, even though it hangs dead at east. The Cap tain, and a passenger equally interested in making a good passage, as ho is the charterer of iho bark, are walking the quarterdeck, and discussing the opon question as to the best longitude to cross the line. The Captain thinks 20 to 28 the right place at this time of the year, say July ; while the more experienced pas senger, an old China Captain, advocates a good full and let her hit the line where she may—let her slide, though she may cross to leeward of St. Paul rocks.

' Jack, on his way down the rigging, keeps the stranger in his eye, and, when he gets to the futlock staff below the top, ho reports : ' Can just see the head of his mainsail; a clipper schooner, sir, and gaining fast to windward on the same bearing.'

The walkers on that quarter-deck, one owning the vessel and the other th« cargo, lookup at tho weather leeches, and see that, all the sails draw well. Nothing is said, but it is clear that they do not like fast sailing schooners in that particular latitude.

J3y 11 a. M. we are going seven knots. The strenger, keeping his bearing exactly, gains straight to windward. He is now hull up, and clearly a rakish Ealtirnore clipper, with a white ' boot-top.' Near fifty years ago such craft were not rare in that region, bound to the coast of Africa, and many of them vrere reputed to be pirates when they could make money out of honest traders At noon the stronger is about five miles under the lee beam, and although heading nearly with us is evidently making a straight course to speak to us. The Cap tain does- not appear to take in the gravity of the situation. The passenger goes up to the mizzen cross-trees, with a glass, and takes a good look at the crate. He comes down and solicits a private inter

view with the Captain, going below. He opens himself thus :

' Captain D., that's a slaver; I can see his long-boat and his pivot-gun covered by a tarpaulin, He may be a pirate. He is dogging us. I recommend preparing for him. Get your two weather guns upon the poop ; stick out to leeward two logs of wood aud black them over ; load all the arms; hoist your colors, and if he does not respond by showing the stars and stripes, make up your mind to fight. When all is ready and some sham men stuck up uudfr the bulwarks, run up your weather studding-sails, and ease her off a point-if he keeps his luff, all right; if not, he is a rascal. No time ought to be lost; call all hands and go at it.' All hands are called, one of the guns is hoisted on the half poop, three made to show leeward, fore and main topmast and topgallant studding-sails are bent oh, booms run out, upper yards slightly braced in ; the passenger takes the wheel and hoists the colors. All the others, including cook and steward, man the studding-sail halyards, and they are run man-o'-war fashion. The course is changed barely a point, and the little barque gathers fresh head way, going good eight knots.* The stranger shows Spanish colors, and keeps his course. As we draw ahead, he gradually falls into our wake, now perhaps two miles off. An immense weight is lifted from the hearts of the crew. We are safe. She's a slaver, but she is not a pirato, strictly speaking. The Captain orders the men to get dinner^but the order is scarcely out of his rawifth when it is seen that the schooner hasf'also made more sail, and is running directly for us. ' Hold on dinner, Mr. Smith; get another gun up here ; wet the sails. Be bandy, boys-; no's not honest, and we have got to sell our lives.' Whips are rigged, sails are wetted down, and we coax in the yard another point, the schooner gaining slightly. * Now, Captain,' says the passenger, what are you going to do?' 1 Fight when he gets nearer.' • I'll tell you what to do. Open hatches and pitch over bales of domestics; lighten her as fast as you can, and then perhaps we can beat her going before the wind.' It is done. Sawing off the rails abreast of the fore and after hatch, the men stripped to the waist', worked gallantly, and over went the bales; the Captain, mate, passenger, and steward standing by and watching the schooner. Still she gains very slowly, and at about two p. si. is only a mile off, getting his square sail ready to set. In the meantime he clears aways his long-Tom, and, lulling up, fires a shot under our lee quarter, falling far short. The process of luffing and bearing off again has lost him quite a pace, and we keep on" still more, getting out our lower studding sail and discharging cargo with a will. Still she gains on us, and by five p. si. is within shot; but, feeling sure of us now, he cannot afford to change his course and fire at us. 'Now, Captain,' says the anxious passenger, ' let us give him our two guns ; by good luck we may cripple some of his spars. You sight one, and I will the other ; aim for his fore-topsail.' We give him two guns, and imagine some result, as lie yaws a bit, perhaps to clear the domestics, going over at the rate of twenty bales a miiitue. Again we fire, aud down comes his foretopsaii to the cap, but in a very few miuutos the damage is mxde good, and he gains slightly. Now, at six o'clock, he is only half a mile astern, his main-boom well guyed off, and the death's head and marrow-bone flag plainly seen.

# Now, Captain,' says the anxious passenger, ' try him again. Rake him, and if anything happens, hard up our helm, and jibe him. It can do us no harm, and put him in irons if he follows us.'

We lire, and down comes liis fore-top maat —port our helm -lie follows—jibes his mainsail—we right our helm, and go on gaining rapidly, while he fires his long- Torn anil hits not.

' Keep her steady south-south-west for a time, He cannot catch us.'

In fact he hove to, and amused himself in picking up some of our goods. i!y sunset he was out of sight, and at mid night we hauled our wind and weat on, rejoicing in a fortunate escape. Our crew needed no rocking to put them to sleep, and, after fixing our course, all hands, save the Captain, the mate, and the passenger, were fast asleep. Never did a crew behave better, and on the return of the barque the underwriter gave the Captain a handsome token of approval, and paid, willingly for the heavy jecti&on of cargo.

What race of beings do eggs r semble that are laid between the months of April and June i 1 Maylays, f

I in afraid you'll Oome to want/ said an old lady to a young gentleman.-'I have come to want already,' v;as ths reply : ' I want your daughter.'