that face, those eyes, looking at him so. The eagerness of desperate love came storming down upon prudence, and hurry ing words of devotion to his lips. Mastering himself by a strong effort, and clasping, or rather clenching his hands behind him, he said in what seemed to Adrienne a singu larly calm, colourless voice : "You make too much of it. I would rather not be thanked for it." " You are hard upon me to say that. It gives me such pleasure to thank you, but you deserve at my hands that I should comply with your wishes—after what you have done for me. But you cannot gues3 what a delightful feeling it is to one so lonely as 1 to suddenly discover that there is somoonc who has been not afraid to stand up for her—and to some purposes." " I should have thought you would have many friends," remarked Myles, en deavouring to change the too fascinating subject. " I -no indeed. I don't think anyone with fewer friends ever lived." " But you may have left friends behind you on the Continent!" A momentary pause while he looked at her. It was as though some sudden blow had struck the words back from her lips to her heart then she said steadily : "Some few, but chiefly benefactors rather than friends —benefactors who be friended and helped me in my loneliness and destitution, for my father and I were some times almost destitute. " Destitute ?" echoed Myles, shocked. *' Oh yes i I have not always lived in Lancashire, you know. No one seems to he poor here. I have known what it is to look at a piece of money worth six-ponce, and knew that if I spent that upon my supper I should not have a penny in the morning to buy breakfast with." " But not seriously ?" " I assure you it seemed very serious to me. I have sunk lower. I have known what it was to go supperless to bed, won dering what poor little trinket or book I could spare in order to get a breakfast next morning. Mylcs was silent, and Adrienne con tinued. " That, you know, is what is not consi dered respectable for a youug lady." "Hang rcspectibility!" was all he said. " Not at all ! I like it. After all the fever and the turmoils, and the ups and downs, and dreadful uncertainties of that life, my present one is like Paradise. Oh, rest is a very sweet thin"—rest and security -and a strong arm to help you." (Myles turned to her with parted lips.) "Your home is beautiful. That sister of yours is so calm and good. I love her already. She must be very dear to yon." . " Ah I love Mary dearly." " Yes. Both she and you, and all of you, -look as if you had had a home all your lives. Do you think I might go to see them •again ?" "They'll only be too glad. I never thought you could sympathise so much with our sort, said Myles constrain edly. " To-morrow you will come to Stonegate, will you not ? and then I will tell you my story, and you will perhaps understand, how it is that I sympathise with' your sort,' as yon call it, and why I think so much of what you have done for me." '• I will come with pleasure." "To-morrow afternoon, then, I shall ■expect you." They walked the rest of the way in silence, and Myles left her at the gate. (To be continued).

Outmeal for Food.

The appetite often craves for food which the stomach refects; but a long period of forcing enables it to receive it under pro test. Nor is it the quantity of food that is nourishing, but the quality. A pound of •choice meat at 20 cents is worth as much for nutriment as two pounds of inferior meat at 10 cents. An egg is one of the hest and most nutritious articles of diet that can be put on the table, and the less it is cooked the more valuable its digestive and assimilating properties. Since oatmeal has become a delicacy, retailing all the way from 4 to 25 cents a pound, according to localities, people ot wealth add it to their cuisine as a valuable breakfast dish. Car- Iyle said of Lord Macaulay: "Well, any •one can see that you are an honest, good sort of a fellow made out of oatmeal." 'There is a story told of a shrewd Scotch woman, who used to tell her fine healthy bairns, "The one that eats the maist parritch will get the maist meat," and when the meat came there.was no room for it. Dr. Johnson defined oats as in Scot land food for men, and in England food for horses. "And where," asked an indignant ■Scotchman, " will you meet with such men as in Scotland, or such horses as in Eng land ? " The apologist for d national dish •says: "If oatmeal can make such men as Sir Walter Scott, Dr. Chalmers, and Lord Macaulay, we may well heap high the sporridge dish and bribe our children to eat it. One thing wc do know :It is far better" for the blood and brain than cake, ■confectionery, and the score of delicacies ■on which many pale little pete are fed by ■their foolish, fond mothers.' ' A regiment of almost giants, recruited from th°e Scottish highlands, are, as Car lyle said of Macaulay, "made of oatmeal." So boys who want height, and breadth, and muscle, and girls who want rosy cheeks and physical vigour, should turn from hot •cakes and other indigestibles to this food for Scotchmen and horses. " There is still something to take into account. The air and exercise of that glorious country, "Scotland, bonnie Scot land," and the tramping tours which her ;sons take, giving thorn robust appetites for porridge and bannocks, and such plain, wholesome fare.

That Wonderful Boy.—lt is said that there is a boy in New Hampshire who can repeat the multiplication table backwards, and he's only nine years old. We know that boy. We were never in New Hampshire, but we know him. We lived next door to that boy •when we were a boy, and it is not so long ■ago but that we remember him distinctly. He ■always went to bed at S o'clock, and had a ■slight cough. He brushed his hair back to his ears, add carried a store handkerchief, and when he played marbles it was to win. He always got home from school before we did, and employed the time in telling his mother ' the belting the boy next door was getting.' And indeed we were getting it, but there was ■no special interest in it for other folks. He was the model boy, the boy our parents used to point to and speak of in tones of mingled admiration and regret, while unfitting us for sitting on anything harder than a poultice. He* never ran away from school, nor stole money, but he used to throw mud at old people when they were not looking, and throw the credit on us. And then to see that boy come around to our back-yard with jam on his bread—that was the last feather; that was the climax of all the sorrows of our young heart. We could willingly have forgiven everything else, but that jam upset us. It went down into our heart, and rankles there yet. It sent us into the house bawling for jam, and getting it, but not on our bread. We remember that boy with ghastly distinctness,— Banbury News.

A Kissing Party for Charitable Purposes.

HOW IT WAS BROKE UP ALL ON ACCOUNT

OF A JEALOUS WIFE,

If any one had supposed it would turn out the way it did, the scheme would not have been adopted, but the object was a chari table one, and the Committee on Invitation were very careful to avoid the presence of any disagreeable or unpopular person. The whole affair was kept very qniet, to prevent notoriety, and had not the ladies become so indignant the affair would have passed off pleasantly. Mrs spacious residence at Hyde Park was kindly tendered for the purpose, and after the company had gathered the gentleman were informed that the ladies would permit themselves to be hugged and kissed at so much per squeeze, the pro ceeds to be devoted to a prominent and deserving charity. There was some difficulty in arranging a schedule of prices, and the row would have broken out earlier if some of the ladies had been made aware of the value at which their charms were estimated. The following price lists was finally adopted : For one go as you please squeeze of one minute, and one kiss, terms cash in advance : — Girls under 16 25 cents Girls from 1G to 20 50 cents Ladies from 20 to 25 75 cents Married ladies under 30 81 Married ladies from 30 to 40 50 cents Widows under 30 75 cents Widows over 30 50 cents Maiden ladies from 30 to 40 50 cents Maiden ladies over 40 two for ... a nickel The gentlemen were all gathered in the dining room, and all the ladies in the par our. In the library was a committee of two—a lady and a gentleman, the latter being timekeeper, and they called in the gentlemen, one by one. Each was shown the schedule of prices and a list of the ladies present, and when one selected the lady ho wanted to kiss she was called in, and the transaction occurred in the presence of the committee. In cases where the squeeze was prolonged beyond the schedule time, or an additional smack taken, a fine of double the price, was imposed for every minute in excess, and in several cases the fines were heavy, but wore paid without a murmur. The whole affair was confidential, and none but the committee were to know who kissed who. There was present one young widow of superlative charms (whose name is withhold from motives of delicacy), and " Had rosy lips that would entice The f?oda to kiaa at any price." And tor whose one embrace a monk would give his relics and his ashes. Tho other ladies of the party didn't mind it much until she had been called into the library nine times in succession, without so much as a whisper for anyone else, but when her name was announced the tenth time they began to look a little uneasy. She remained in the library considerably longer than usual this time, and loud laughter was heard from that mysterious apartment. Miss , a lady who had registered her age at twenty-nine caused some tittering among the younger girls, by so doing, whispered something in the ear of Mrs , a buxom widow who sat with her on the sofa, and the latter replied in an audible tone of voice.

" Yes, I know ; she always has had that reputation." When the young widow appeared again her face was very red, and her hair was a good deal mussed up, but she didn't seem to notice the indignant glances that were cast toward her from all sides. The library door opened, and the time keeper said. :-• " Mrs is wanted again !" She arose quietly, and, heaving a sigh, glanced around the room, as much as to say, '* I'm sony for you, poor things," and disappeared. The lady of twenty-nine years exclaimed, almost before the door was shut " I must say its perfectly scandalous." Before any one could reply, a shout of laughter was heard in the library and a little, black-eyed woman in the corner jumped up, looking a little wild, and in quiring. " Wasn't that my husband's voice ?" "As sure as I'm alive, it was," respon ded the buxom widow on the sofa, and turning to the lady of twenty-nine, she remarked sotto voice : " There's been a good deal of talk about them two, you know." Another shout was heard from the library, and the little black eyed woman started for the door. '■ I'm going in there !" she said. " This thing has gone far enough." " Another fine, that's three, " called out the committee time keeper, as the black eyed woman opened the door, and tho ladies all rushed in after her. There they stood the young widow clasped firmly in the arms of the black eyed woman's husband. The committee protested against the intrusion, and something wns said about the "rules," but it was of no avail. The buxom widow and the young lady of twenty nine made some observations that didn't help matters any, and hearing the row, tho gentleman rushed in through the other door. There seemed to be something amusing in the situation, and all joined in a chorus of laughter except the black-eyed woman's husband, who appeared to realise that trouble was impending. The hostess en deavoured to arrange matters, so that business could proceed, but the black-eyed woman with fire in every glance, demanded her "things.." Her husband approached her and offered some remarks in the way of explanation, but was answered only by a burst of tears. Several ladies of the party followed her upstairs to the dressing room, but the more they said in the way oi inter cession the madder she seemed to get, until by a sort of silent but mutual understanding a dozen or so began to put on their wraps, under the impression that the affair was over. Several of the gentleman attempted to twit the husband about his scrape, while others soothingly remarked that it wouldbe all right in a few moments. " Gentlemen, you don't know her was the only reply he made. The pecuniary return was large being $3750, §750 in fees, and §30 in fines, but' the black-eyed woman's husband observed confidentially to a friend a few days after, that he'd rather have paid ten times the amount than had it turn out the way it did.

After the choir in one of the churches in Ithaca, N.Y., had performed a rather heavy selection, the minister opened the Bible and began reading in Acts xx., 'And after the uproar had ceased.' A MAN is usually very deaf at six o'clock in the morning when his wife calls him to light the fire ; but when she gets up, murmurs that the poor man is tired out, and goes down stairs, he can hear the gentlest call up two pairs of stairs, 'Breakfast is ready.' An up-townyouth, just past his fifth birth day, who listened Monday to the first account of the Czar's assassination, cried out, ' That s good,'when the reader came to the sentence ' many policemen were injured.'

Theodore Hook's Joke.

A EUSE FOR A DINNER—HOW HOOK WON HIS BET. The following characteristic anecdote of Theodore Hook is given in Barbara's life of that extraordinary man. Of the hoax so commonly told and so generally believed as taking place at the Spanish Ambassadors, at Woolwich, on the banks of the Thames, Mr Barbara, has given a truer and more authentic account. One of the streets near Soho Square, either Dean Street or Frith street, was the real scene of action. Hook was lounging upon one of those streets in company with Terry, the actor, when they saw through the kitchen window prepara tions for a handsome dinner. •'What a feast i" said Terry. "Jolly dogs! I should like to make one of them." " I'll take any bet," returned Hook, " that I do. Call for me here at 10 o'clock, and you'll find that I shall be able to give a tolerable account of the worthy gentleman's champagne and venison." So saying, he marched up the stops, gave an authoritative rap with the burnished knocker, and was quickly lost to the sight of his astonished companions. Asa matter of course ho was immediately ushered by the servant, as an unexpected guest, into the drawing-room, where a large party had already assembled. The apartment being well nigh full, no notice was at first taken of his intru-ion, and half-a-dozen people wore laughing at his lion mots before the host discovered tho mistake. Affecting not to observe the visible embarrassment of the latter, and ingeniously avoiding any oppor tunity for explanation, Hook rattled till ho had attracted the greater part of tho company in a circle near him, and some considerable time elapsed ere tlie old gentle man was able to catch the attention of the agreeable stranger. " I beg your pardon, sir," he said, con triving at last to get in a word ; *' but your name, sir—l did not quite catch it—servants are so abominably incorrect, and I am really a little at loss " " Don't apologize, I beg," graciously replied Theodore. Smith—my name is Smith—and as you justly observe, servants arc always making sonic stupid blunder or another. I remember a remarkable in stance," etc. "But really, my dear sir," continued the host at the termination of the story illustrative of stupidity in servants, " I think the mistake on the present occasion does not originate in the source you allude to : I certainly did not expect the pleasure of Mr Smith's company at dinner to day " "No, I dare say not; you said 4 in your note, I know, and it is now, I see, a quarter past 5 - you are a little fast, by the way — but the fact ia I have been detained in the city, and I was about to explain when—" "Pray," exclaimed the othor, as soon as he could stay the volubility of his guest, "whom may I ask do you suppose you are addressing ?" "Whom? Why, Mr Thompson, of course —old friend of my father ; I have not the pleasure, indeed, "of being personally known to you, but having received your kind invitation on my arrival at Liverpool— Fifth street, 4 o'clock, family party—come in boots—you see I have taken you at your word, and I am only afraid that I have kept you waiting." "No, no, not at all. But permit me to observe, my dear sir, my name is not exactly Thompson —it is Jones, and—" "Jones!" repeated the sot ilisanl Smith, in admirably assumed consternation. " Jones ! Why, surely I cannot have—yes, I must—good gracious, I see it all. My dear sir, what an unfortunate blunder 1 Wrong house 1 What must you think of such an intrusion? lam really at a loss forwo'ds to apologize. You will permit me to retire at present, and to marrow—" "Pray don't think of retiring," exclaimed the hospitable old gentleman; your friend's table must have been cleared long ago, if as you say, 4 was the hour named, and I am only too happy to be able to offer you a scat at mine." Hook, of course, could not think of any such thing-could not think of trespassing upon the kindness of a perfect stranger; if too late for Thompson, there were plenty of chop-houses at hand. Tho unfortunate part of the business was, he had made an appointment with a gentleman to call fol ium at 10 o'clock. The good-n lturcd Jones, however, positively refuse! to allow so entertaining a visitor to withdraw dinner less. Mrs Jones joined in the solicitation ; the Misses Jones smiled bewitcliingly; and at last Mr Smith, who soon recovered from his confusion, was prevailed upon to offer his arm to one of the ladies, and take his place at the well-furnished board. Iv all probability the family of Jones never passed such an evening befmv. Hook naturally exerted himself to tho utmost, to kef-p the party in an unceasing roar of laughter, and make good the first impression. The mirth grew' fast and furious, when by way of a coup de grace, he seated himself at the piano forte and struck oil into one of those extem poraneous effusions which had filled more critical judges than the Joneses with de lightand astonishment. Ten o'clock struck, and, on Mr Terry being announced, his triumphant friend would up the perfor mance with the explanatory stanza : I am very much pleased with your fare, Your cellar's as prime as your cook ; .■ My friend's Mr Terry the player, And I'm Mr Theoeore Hook,

Amusing Scene in Court.

The court and jury, as well as the spectators, generally enjoy the scene when a lawyer, in an attempt to badger or browbeat a witness, comes off second best in the encounter. An amusing instance of this sort happened a few years ago in an Albany courtroom. The plaintiff, who was a lady, was called to testify. She got on very well, and made a favourable impression upon the iury under the guidance of her coun sel, Hon.'Lyman Tremaine, until the opposing counsel, Hon. Henry Smith, subjected her to a sharp cross-examination. This so confused her that she became faint, and fell to the floor in a swoon. Of course this excited general sym pathy in the audience, and Mr Smith saw that his case looked badly. An expedient suggested itself by which to make the swooning appear like a piece of stage trickery, and thus destroy sympathy for her. The lady's face in swooning, had turned purple red, and this fact suggested the new lino of attack. The next witness was a middled-aged lady. The counsel asked: " Did you see the plaintiff faint a short time a<*o?" "Yes sir." "People turn palo when Hiey faint, don't they ?" A great sensation in the court, and an evident confusion of witness. But in a moment she answered "No, not always." "Did you ever bear of a case of faint ing where the party did not turn palei?" " Yes, sir." "Did you ever see such a case ?' Yes, sir." "When?" "About a year ago." Where was it?" "In this city." "Who was it?" By this time the excitement was so intense that everybody listened anxiously for the reply. It came promptly, with a twinkle in tho witness s eve, and a quaver on her lip, as if from sup pressed humour. " "Twas a negro, sir. Peal after peal of laughter shook the courtroom, m which the venerable judge joined. Mr Smith lost his case, not to say his temper.

FOR THE LADIES.

COMPLICATED TRAINING FOR TENDER MAIDENS. THE SEQUEL TO AN ENGLISH ELOPEMENT. Although American girlhood, says tho Phil adelphia " Times," has none of the chaperoning which curbs and confines tho ovcr-expansive ness of youth, there aro beginning to manifest themselves in "high life," as the French are fond of calling it, signs and tokens that the future young woman is to bo reared on a more exotic system than heretofore. Indeed, that superior caste of American society enabled to enjoy the benefit of foreign travel has already come to a tacit understanding that the ways of our grandfathers and grandmothers aro " very bad form." It is, therefore, the rule to bring young people of tho superior conditions of life together by regular approaches. The artificial system begins at the school. The fashionable female of the academy of tho day, in further ance of this new departure among the social elitcprcsonts a curriculum of manners and forms that would rather suprise the noblesse of our Revolutionary epoch. First a season is ah en to the carriage of the young person. Sho is labored with this season to master tho various tricks of expression which when in its consum mate flower, ravishes tho golden youth, gra duated from an almost identical system of men tal, physical and moral procrusteanism. Months aro spent in training those cumbersome members tho arms, that they may hang in limp equability. The training of this piece de resistance is long and severe. The young person is compelled to walk hours at a time with the arms hanging at full length, partly elapsed behind the body, the theory being that tho chest is expanded and the limbs inducted into tho mysteries of easy and graceful action. On the other sido of tho wafer this attitude is assumed by the feminine schools as they pro menade in battalions in quiet streets, park 3 and public gardens, under the wary guard of a dozen chaperons. Next in importance comes the voice. The management of this in American subjects forcing teachers groan over. The scream and the nose notes aro tho marked traits ot the American organs. No European young person ever raises her voice. This is the utmost aggravation of " bad form," and the vocal organs of our fair young barbarians are at once keyed to a sepulchral diapason, in which the stomach does tho heaviest duty. After months of this practice, the society of well-bred young women is liko tho eehoings of a whispering gal lery. Instead of measuring tho mother tongue in the old-fashioned, monotonous way, the young girl of tho period ends every interrogation in a sort of musical cadence, tho pianissimo of the rising inflection finally ending with tho last word. The bewitching effect of this it is impos sible to describe—a sort of vocal languor dimily suggestive of summer skies, flowery isles and the tender ripple of the sunset sea. Tho com plete young person graduated from the swell academy is not a creature to bo lightly ap proached, and no wouder tho marriage market is reported year after year lighter and lighter, with " tone rising.

HEROINES IN RUSSIA,

Sophie Bardin was tho first and Sophie Pe rotl'ski the tho 'hird of the popular heroines of tho Russian revolution. The second place was occupied by Vera Sassulitch, whose name is perhaps even more familiar in the West than either of the others. Vera, who achieved no toriety by the shot sho fired at General Tropoft' to avengo the chastisement inflicted on a pri soner. Boglaioubolt', who was personally un known to her, was four years older than Sophie Bardin at the time of her trial. Her troubles, howovor, began oven earlier. When only 17 years old she was flung into goal as the friend of the sister of Netchaiett", the well-known con spirator. She lay there two years without trial, and after her release she spent three years in exilo, being passed on by the police from town to town as a suspect. Oppression drives oven the wisest man mad, and no one can be surprised that such treatment drove the victim into the ranks of the active conspirators, and at last led her to shoot General Tropoll'. She made no attempt to escape, and justified her deed in court as being necessary to call attention to the cruelty which was practiced undor his control. All other means of publicity being denied her, she resorted to the revolver. Her plea found favor in tho eyes of a Russian jury, and her ac quittal; which was applauded by almost every newspaper in St. Petersburg, startled Europe. Immediately after her acquittal amid a scene of riotous enthusiasm, she disappeared. It was said she had bced arrested by "administrative order" and banished to Siberia. After a short time it was discovered that sho had only been in sate hiding, and soon afterwards she was feted as a heroine by the revolutionary refugees of Geneva and Paris, among whom she con tinues to eke out a livelihood to this day. Sophie IJordin is in Siberia ; Vcrra Sassulitch is an exilo; Sophie Pcroft'ski is dead. But al though the three leading actors in the tragic drama are thus accounted for, there are many others whose names appear and reappear in tho blood-stained annals of Russian sedition. Olga RassoiTski, who sent a bullet through tho head of a police sergeant: Anno Makharevna, who fled witli a passport forged by two other revolu tionary women from tho punishment due for her share in the vitriolization of the spy Gorono vitch, and Achristoff, the seventeen-year-old priest's daughter, who made love to the detective Davrott'ski, in order to betray him into the Nihilists, who cut off his ears and sliced off his no.??, are among those who, ruthless as destroy ing angels, keep up the red terror in Russia. The case of Sulla Krakoffski, the daughter of a university otlicial of Kieif. who was remotely implicated in the affair of Tchigirinski in 1877, was brought to memory tho other day by the confirmation of her sentence of banishment to Siberia for the heinous offence of having des troyed compromising papers instead of handing them over to the police, and of being in posses sion of the forbidden "Story of a Peasant, by MM. Erckmann-Chatrain. " Sho was only 20 years old, hut all Ivieff," says an admirer, who predicts that ere long her statue will rise upon the site of the fortress of her native city, ' know her charming smile and tho imnicnso treasure of her charity towards the poor."

A Dancing Procession.

From the Times' Berlin Correspondent.

Not far from those places of rendezvous for all nations of tho civilised world a spectacle has been attracting the curiosity of thousands which leads us tack to tho depths of the Middlo Ages, although it is repeated year by year. lam speaking of the village of Echternach and its far-famed dancing procession. From 15,000 to 20.000 pilgrims—l could not obtain more accurato information about tho numbers—assemblo on somo meadows within Prussian territory, but close to tho confines of tho Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. The inha bitants of different villages—men and women apart—collect behind their clergymen, and a band of musicians is placed in the front. As the clock strikes Aye on Tuesday morning in Whit suntide a priest walks up the steps of a rude wooden pulpit, and thence addressos the multi tude, then already swollen to an incrediblo extent by sightseers, who come by special trains and every imaginable vehicle to be present at the performances. The community which happens to he nearest the road stands forth, preceded by their priest, who, however, does not dance. Two men or two women hop away first two steps in advance, and then one backwards, the band playing a most monotonous tune. "Abraham had seven sons, seven sons ; seven sons had Abraham." are the words to this terrible melody,- which each suc cessive set, as they join the procession, take,up with increasing vigour. Hour after hour passes away before the last people have started on their miles of way to the foot of tho Church of St. Willebrod, whence they go up fifty steps, round and round the alter, and finally descend the fifty Nothing can exceed tho excitement and ex haustion among the dancers, old and young. Great are the numbers of those who, in spite of an occasional draught, of water offered by charitablo bystanders, sink down on the grass or on the dusty road not to rise for hours.- The question is naturally a»ked- What does all this mean % The answer is: It is intended to per petuate tho remembrance of a frightful epi demic of St. Vitus' Dance, which carried oft hundreds of vicims in tho neighbourhood re ferred to somo time during the fifteenth cen tury; to offer up prayers and vows to tho patron saint; to recognise a miraculous cessation of the epidemic, and it is a fulfilment of vows then made that, in gratitude, there should be yearly dances performed-two hops forward and one back-ward, as closely resembling the visitation from whioh Heaven had delivered them as rhythm and good taste would allow. During the French occupation in 1793 tho pro cession was forbidden, but tho easy-going Dutch Government of Luxembourg have allowed it to be revived. To judge from what could bo seen this year of the drunkenness and debauchery in tho numberless public-houses frequented by the pilgrims *fter their long fasting and exertions, I am inclined to think it would have been better to have continued tho prohibition.

When little Johnnie was first learning to talk, ho took special delight in responding* Amen, after his father had asked a blessing upon the food, as the family sat at table. One day a vis itor was with them, and having performed this service, as Johnnies papa had requested him to do, he closed with saying ' Amon.' This was something that Johnnie had not been accus tomed to, and it almost broke his little heart. The tears poured down his cheeks very fast, aud he turnedh'3grieved litt'efaoe toward mamma, while Ms voice was almost ohoked with sobs, as he satd;' Q mamma! he said it hlsself T

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, SEPTEMBER 3, 1881.

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What England now wants is a second West minster Abbey, to be devoted exclusively to the remains of great muscle-men and champions, I such as Rowell, Archer, Hanlan, Jem Mace, leading Scotch kickisis, and Irish shillelah slingers. Heads have had their day and the age of legs and arms has come. Over 1,000 copies of the popular waltz " Flirtation " have been sold in the Province of Auckland. Third edition now ready at Forrest s Auckland Music Warehouse, 6S, Queen-stroet. i — Advt.



JD A V E V, . FASHIONABLE TAILOR, VULCAN LANE, AUCKLAND, Has a superior stock of .the best Mosgiel, Clip ping, Boston, and other Tweeds, Fancy Coatings and West of England Broad Cloths.- Inspection and Trial invited. Fit Guaranteed. EM c X E 0 W N, , Baker, Confectioner, and Biscuit Baker, shipping grocer, etc., Imperial Bakery, Queen Street Wharf. Town and Country Orders promptly attended to. MADAME BOTTENELLI, MILLINER, DRESS, AND MANTLE MAKER, begs to inform the publio that sho is now soiling the ENTIRE STOCK at less than HALF tho original PRICE. An early call will prove tho fact. 218, QUEEN STREET.' O O X- H E R E ! Corrugated Tanks, cheap, and always on hand. R. T U D E II 0 P E, UPPER QUEEN STREET, AUCKLAND, Gasfltter, Plumber, Bellhanger, Coppersmith, and Zinc Worker. Hot, Cold, and Shower Baths. Gas Fittings in every variety. Work Done in the best style. STEVENSON, • Fashionable Tailor, Foot of Grey Street, Auckland. A well - selected Stook of Tweeds, Fancy Coatings, etc. STYLE AND FIT GUARANTEED. GIVE ME A TRIAL. rp H E STAR BAKE R "*, JAMES FERGUSON, Corner of Durham and Chapel Streets, Bread and Small Goods Baker. KST Orders promptly attended to. "ES N~. GARN IE R, , Manufacturing Jeweller, DEALER IN CURIOS, Albert Street (near Star Hotel), Auckland. All kinds of Curios—Ornamental Kauri Gum, Wholesale and Retail; Sheila of every descrip tion mounted at moderate charges. An Early Trial is Respectfully Solicited Repairs of every description. On Parle Francais. SERV I C E , (Near Mr. Lambourn's) KARANGAHAPE ROAD, 111 thanking the Wholesale Houses, Manufac turers, and Dressmakers for the patronage ho has received in Frillings and Kiltings, wishes to inform them that he now makes Fancy Boxes, Orders for which will bofrromptly attended to. 0 H N MAXWELL, SHIPPING & FAMILY BUTCHER, Drake Street, Freeman's Bay, Auckland. Poultry of all kinds dressed to order. Pickled Ox, and Sheep Tongues. Home-cured Bacon and Hams. Corned Beef on salo in kegs and tierces; quality guaranteed. Familes waited on for orders in city and suburbs. Tho best quality only kept. O YMONDS STREET MEAT DEPOT. ENOCH WOOD, Family Batcher. Meat delivered at Mount Albert, Epsom, Mount Eden, Carlton Grove, Lower Symonda Street, Newton, and Eden Terrace. First-class quality; reasonable prices. Cash'customers liberally treated. Inspection Invited. H _ " It A E T 0 N, . Basket & Perambulator Makeb, Junction of Queen and Groy Streets. Large Stock of Fancy Baskets always on Hand. Discount to Wholesalo Dealers. DRAPERY, MILLINERY, & LADIES, AND CHILDREN'S UNDERCLOTHING. H. FOUNTAIN, Ponsonby Road, is now offering'the ahovo at lowost town prices for cash, and respectfully solicits a continuanco of tho patronago of his numerous customers. RH. HUGHES, . FAMILY GROCER & TEA DEALER, DRAPER, HOSIER, AND HABERDASHER. Junction of* Union and Wellington Streets. Goods of best quality at moderate prices. A nice assortment of China and Earthenware always on hand. Families waited on for orders. Goods delivered. : H& J. B I N S T E AD, .WHOLESALE & RETAIL BUTCHERS Victoria Street West, Auckland. Families waited on for orders. Shipping sup ■ plied. Corned Beef in any Quantity. HE MEDICAL HALL, Queen-street Junction. C. HENDERSON, Proprietor. PHARMACEUTICAL CHEMIST importer of PURE DRUGS AND CHEMICALS. Homoeopathic Chemist for the People. L' A U R I S HE N R IKS EN, PRACTICAL WATCHMAKER, Victoria Street, Auckland, (Next door to the "Aurora Hotel.") Clocks, Watches and Jewellery of every descrip tion always on hand. TJ O N E S , . Watchmaker and Jeweller, KARA NGAH AP E RO A D (Next door to Mr. McPhorson's). Watches, Clocks, and Jewellery neatly repaired jTLANVILLE.. & THLLYETT, TEA DEALERS '.'•. AND FAMILY GROCERS, 111. QUEEN STREET, Opposite the Union Bankl AUCKLAND. NEW SEASON'S TEAS, Highly Recommended,