Selected Poetry.

A DREAM.

[Tho following poem is from tho .unpublished poems of the lato William KOBEI.TSOX, who died it short, time since at Kyber I a"* and whose early doath was noticed »' ''^ "Evening Star," The poem illustrate? v ll* ■ sweetly the recollectioiiß of years si*"""I'J Scottish village by ono who wti3 i) '~"„'" nature and the " burnies" and " |."oeu„ , of the land of his elder brothc'-"" song.l My dream was that I. was a oip'tlve no longer, I stood once again in the »mks of ijemo. The pulse of my bosom bo.* faster and stronger, As liberty Wafted her sweet breath ocr mo. I wandered again, 'mid ihe scenes of my cmiv Where wimpled tlw burnic among its green I hoariUhe swot*! notes of the birds iv the When chantUS. their song through the long Buumiti r *l^ys« And there stood tho homo of my youth's ea_dy When .Wo and its prospects were pleasing and i»r. . . j^d ,ed und wliito roses Us porch were adorn t.'hi'o the Bwoet honeysuckle scented the air. ft glad was tlio smile of my dear sainted mother. And sweet was her kiss as she welcomed me home. , While round clustered father, and sisters, and brother, Entreating the wand'rer no longer to roam, Q, sweet was the dream that nij" fond fancy chcrish'd, . ..... .. And bright were tho visions that with it arose, „ But now has that dream with its visions all perish'd, , , , And left mo to drink tho dark cup of in. I will not repine, though the waters so bitter llavo passed o'er my soul, aud my hopes have laid low, Hut trust, like the ore, to grow purer nnd whiter, Tho stronger the llrcs of affliction may glow. The path 1 have trodden through lifo has boon dreary, ... , _ A ... i And oft hast my spirit been burdened with care: But there's rest at the last for thoso who are weary. , , ~ " There's balm for tbe wounded, why should I despair I William ItOBER-CSOtf.

TRISTAN'S SUNG.

(In "King Rents Daughter." Translated from the Vanish by J. A'., Auckland.) WriiiKE reigned within my father's homo; 1 left it, through the hills to roam. And found thick darkness everywhere around me; Until there burst upon my sight This beauteous vale, with flowers bediglit. And by the side of this fair houao 1 found me. Hut all was still: no chorus clear Of woodland warblers smoto my oar: No sounds of busy labour wcro upswclhng, No sign of motion or of speech As far as eye or ear could reach- All silent as in God's most sacred dwelling. I oped the door, and, lo! my eyes Were startled with a sweet surprise: As though some fairy's powerful spoil had bound theo, ltose-like, and lapped in slumber deep, 1 saw thee lie: while in thy sleep Seemed spell-bound every living thing around thee. Upon thy cheeks the zephyr slept: Upon thy arms the warm (lame crept; Tho palm-ireo dreamt, his stately head low bending; Of eacli tiling's life thou wort a part; In every bosom beat thy heart; All in their sleep were on thy sleep attending, Thy waking sounded " Lot thero be!" And Nature all awoke, with thee. As though tho morning sun their sleep were breaking. Oh. thornless Rose! my feeble lyro Felt tipped with light and touched with fil'O. Accept tho song that wakened with thy waking! IIEKItIK Ut-ltZ. . September, 1881.

ONE MORE UNFORTUNATE.

The winds upon Die waves arc sleeping, And softly murmuroth the sou; The stare in heaven's blue canopy, With tho bright moon, their watch aro keeping. And by that light so calmly dipping Beneath the bridge, between the piers, I soo the glittering spars and spears Of sails, close-reefed, upon the shipping. 1 mark tho boatman, lato and lonely, In silence feathering his sculls, Glide slowly past the distant hulls, That look like giant shadows only. And from tho darkness of tho city, As from v weary heart, doth come Tho wail of a regretful hum, That wakes an answering sigh of pity. ' For cold with care, a child of sorrow Kneels down to meet the cruel wave; Alack! it were a peaceful grave; It wero a lovable to-morrow 1 Poor heart! to weep when nil tho heaven Is glißtcning in the joy of light; Poor heart; to sorrow most at night. When care and sorrow aro forgiven. And now a hand in anguish dashes Away a cloud of tears ihat tingo Tho fair white light of heaven, and fringe Tho drooping border of hor lashes. Anon a hand Is raised above her, And in sad melody a prayer Goes upward—up the altar stair For maiden frail and faithless lover. Tho lights bcaide the water shiver; The sails, close-reefed, shake on the mast, As slowly, slowly goeth past A sweet white faco adown the river. In tangled mass tho hair is streaming, That lately curled in pride of lovo, Tho eightloss oyes aro fixed above, Wide open, blind to moonlight beaming. And cast adrift and unforgiven, Yo say that boul will be at last; That love is lost, that hcavon will blast. Ah 1 nought know yo of love or heaven. — Chambcra'3 Journal,

OLD DREAMS.

Where arc thy footsteps I was wont to hear, 0 Spring! in pauses of tho blackbird's song? I hear thorn not; the world has hold mine ear . With harsh insistent sounds too long, too long! Tho footfall and the sweeping robes of Spring, How onco I hailed them as life's full delight! Now, little moved, I hoar tho blackbird sing. As blind men wake not at tho sudden light. Nay, not unmoved t But yester ovc I stood llcncath thee, throned queen songstress in the beech; And for ono moment heaven was that green wood. And tho old dreams went by, too deep for speech. Ono moment—it was passed- tho gusty breozo Brought laughter and rough voices from tbo lane; Night, liko a mist, clothed round the darkening trees, And I was with tho world that mocks again, So near is Eden, yet so far; it lies. No angel-guarded gate, too far for sight: We breathe, we touch it, yet our blinded cyos Still seek it every way except tho right. —The Spectator.

MAMMA'S BADDISH BOY.

Cutting steamships on tho chair, Cutting off the dolly's hair, Cutting papers on the stair, Cutting capers everywhere, That's Willie. Making doggies on the wall, Making mud pies in tho hall, Making horse lines of my shawl. Making trouble for us all, That's Willie. Hammering upon the floor, Shouting tin his throat is hoarse. Making all youth's batteries roar, All this and even more, • That's Willie. / Soiling all his finest clothes. J Stubbing out his French kid toes, I Dirty cheeks and dirty nose, / Caring little how he goes, That's Willie. Ah! my heart is sore nnd snd, Thinking of my naughty lad. Other mammas never had, Never had a boy so bad As Willie. But, when cuddled down to sleep, And his arniß around me creep, Asking God his soul to keep, Then in tender love I weep. Then I know I hold too cheap My precious Willie.

Wise Girl.

THEY were seated together side by side o^ tho sofa in the most approved lover fas', n ; oll —his arm encircling her taper waist^ e t c .

"Lizzie," he said, "you must .'have read my heart ere this; you must^ ] enow j tow dearly I love you." "Yes, Fred, you havr. cectain]y be(jn very attentive, saiti i^^ie. " But Lizzie, darl^ a „ do yol , ] ove nic , Will you be my w^ e jf> "Your wife, f^j of all things no! No indeed, nr jt any one else's,» " Lizzie.^ w hat do you mean ? " " Just, w h a t I said, Fred. I've two mar ried sixers."

_" Certainly, and Mrs Hopkins and Mrs P._dnncr have veiy good husbands, I be lieve."

"So people say, but I wouldn't like to stand in cither Nell's or May's shoes, that's all."

" Lizzie, you astonish me." " Look here, Fred, I've had over twenty five sleigh rides this winter, thanks to you and my other gentlemen friends." Fred winced a little here, whether at the remembrance of that unpaid livery bill or the idea of Lizzie sleighing with her other gentlemen friends I cannot answer. "How many do you think my sisters have had ? Not a sign of one, cither of them. Such pretty girls as May and Nellie were, too, and so much attention as they used to have ! "

" Now, Lizzie —— " " I am tond of going to the theatre occa sionally, as well as a lecture or concert sometimes, and I shouldn't like it if I pro posed attending any such entertainment to be invariably told that times were hard, any my husband couldn't afford it, aud then to have him sneak oil' alone."

"Lizzie, Lizzie " "And then, if once in a dog's age he did condescend to go with mc anywhere in the evening I .shouldn't like to be left to pick my way along the slippery places at the risk of breaking my neck, he walking along unconsciously by my side. I'm of a dependent, clinging nature, and I need the protection of a strong arm." "Lizzie, this is all nonsense."

" I'm tho youngest of our family, and porhaps I've been spoiled. At all events, I know it would ureal, my heart to have my husband vent all the ill temper which ho conceals from the world on my defenceless head."

"But, Lizzie, I promise you that I " "Oil, yes, Fred, I kuow what you are going to say—that you will he different; but May and Nell have told me time ami again that no hotter husbands than theirs ever lived. No, Fred; as a lover you aro just perfect, und I shall hate awfully to give you up. Still, if you are bent on marrying there are plenty of girls who have not married .sisters, or who are not wise enough to profit by their example if they have. And don't fret about me, for I've no doubt I can find some one to fill your place " But before Lizzie had concluded Fred made for the door, muttering something " unmentionable to ears polite." "There!" exclaimed Lizzie as the.door closed with a hang, "I knew he was no better than the rest. That's the way John and Aleck swear and Blam doors when things don't go just right. He'd make a bear of a husband; but I'm sorry he came to tho point so soon, for he was just a splendid beau."

Hygiene of the Teeth.

A HARD crust is the best possible dentifrice, 1 never could fjet myself to believe in the natural necessity of a tooth brush. The African nations, the Hindoos, the natives of Southern Europe, the South Sea Islanders, the Arabs, the South American vegetarians, in short three-fourths of our fellow-iiicii, besides our next relatives, the frugiveious animals, have splendid toeth without sozodont. I really believe that ours decay through sheer disuse; the boarding house homo lives chieily on pap—wants all his meat soft boiled, and growls at cold biscuit or an underdone potato; in other words, he delegates to the cook the proper f mictions of his teeth. We hear occasionally of old men getting a second, set of teeth. I met one them in northern Guatemala, and ascertained that ho had become toothless during a twelve years' sojourn in a seaport town, and that he got his new set upon his return to his native village, whore circum stances obliged him to resume tho hard corncakc diet of his boyhood years. His teeth had reappeared as soon as their ser vices were called for, and would probably uever have absented themselves if a pap diet had not made them superfluous. An artificial dentifrice will certainly keep the teeth white, but that does not prevent their premature decay ; disuse gradually softens their substance, till one line day the hash eater snaps his best incisor upon an unex pected niece of bone. Every old dentist knows hundreds of city customers whom the daily use of a toothbrush did not save from, the necessity of applying, before the cad of the fortieth year, for a complete celluloid set. Ido not say that a soft toothbrush and such dcntrifices as oatmeal or burnod arrowroot can do any harm, but for sanitary purposes such precautions must be .supplemented by dental exercise. Let a child invigorate its teeth by chewing a hard crust, or better yet, a handful of St. John's bread or carob beans, the edible pod of the Mimosa sinqua.

Excavations in Switzerland,

FURTHER excavations made in the ancient glacier bed near Solothum have, a Geneva correspondent telegraphs to the Times, pro duced Borne very interesting results, and the spot is being daily visited by geologists and sightseers. Tho debris removed consisted of 4J mdtres of drift mixed up with bould ers and crystalline erratic blocks. The rock bared measured 20 metres long by seven wide. It is highly polished by the action of the ice, and traversed by channejg... through which the glacier-water found it's" way into the so-called "giant's pots," or " kettles." These, so far its has yet been ascertained, are three ,iv number. The largest measures eight mdtres from tvest to east, 3°7 from north to south, and is 3£ me tres deep. The second is 54 mdtres across, and still contains the great boulder or mill stone by which it was hollowed out. The third is smaller and oval shaped, and there is reason to suppose that, if.tlie excavations were continued, several more would be brought to light. This interesting relic of the great ice ago, or rather of the last glacial epoch, is at pi esent private property, but a pro'ect is on foot for its acquisition by the cauton and preservation as 0 glacier garden in the manner of that at Lucerne. Another lake village, assigned by experts to the age of bronze, has been discovered at Auvernier, near Neuchatel. Several mill stones, quite new, others half-made, have been brought to light, from which it is in ferred that the place may have been the seat of a manufactory of these articles. 1 Another conclusion drawn from this find is that Swiss pile buildings served as actual dwellings for the primeval inhabitants of the laud, and were not, as has been sup posed, used merely as storehouses.

Facts for Working Men.

IN the course of his speech at Rochdale, Mr John Bright said :—Yon know that just lately two volumes have been issued from the press, written by Mr John Morley, an eminent writer, being " The Life and Cor rcspondcnce of Richard Cobden," a work admirably written, and, I think, of very singular iuterest. (Hear, hear.) I hope the time will come when it will suit the objects of the publishers to give it to the public in one volume at a moderats price (hear, hear), for I can conceive of hardly anything better than that that volume should enter into scores and scores of thou sandsof homes to instructseores of thousands pi families in this country. (Cheers.) I mention that just for the purpose of giving you an extract from the opening pages of the second volume of that work. It is a letter which Mr Cobden wrote in the year 1850—that is the year after the duty on corn was reduced ,to-Is. a quarter. He says, "The only newspapers which enter the parish arc two copies of Bell's Weekly. The paper is a sound old Tory Protectionist, much patronised by drowsy, farmers. The wages paid by the farmers are very low not exceeding Bs. a week. lam employing an old man nearly seventy, and his son, about twenty-two, and his nephew, about nineteen. I pay the two former about 9s. a week, and the latter Bs., and I am giving Is. a week more than anybody eke is pay ing." Then he describes the poverty of the people generally. He say? they have a quarter of an acre of garden, which the ma jority rent, and which they work, and get a little help from it, after their day's work for the farmer has been completed. That was the state of wages then. Now, I met a man in this town : he was doing some work about our premises, employed by a contractor. I thought he looked ill, and I spoke to him. He sa:d he was very ill, and'had just come back to work. I said, " Where do you come from?" and he said he came out of Buckinghamshire, and he had not been in Buckinghamshire for many years. I said, "What wages were they giving in Buckinghamshire when you left? He said his father had 7s. a week when he was a lad, but when he left he had lis., and he said he had heard since that they were 'getting 14s. That, according to his statement, was an actual doubling of the wages of the labourers in Lord Beaconfield's own county of Buckingham. Perhaps some of you may recollect a letter which was Sublished almost immediately after Lord caconsfield's death, which he wrote to a gentleman who had sent him a book about the condition of the population in the south western counties of England, and Lord Beaconsfield said he thought he underrated the improvement in the condition of the farm labourers ; that, according to his own, the rise iv the wages of farm labourers had been at least 40 per cent. That is, 10s. of wages per week had risen to 14s. per week. So far about the farm labourers. I believe that in many different parts of. the country the wages of farm labourers—taking into account the hours which they work and all particulars — that the wages of farm tabourets are doubled since Free Trade was established. (Hear,, hear, and applause.) Now tako another class of men. I walked down from the Reform Club through the park to the House of Commons during the present summer, three or four months ago, and an intelligent-looking working man joined me, and addressed me by name, I asked him if he knew me. He said he knew me because, he said, " I have been a gooddeal in Birmingham, and have attended your meetings there, and so I know you vcy well." (Laughter and cheers.) I talked to him a little about his business. He said he was then getting 7s. Od. a day as a brick setter, and, he added, "formerly I used to work for 4s. a day." There is a jump— from 4s. to 7s. Cd. is a considerable leap. Now 1 should like to tell you of something that has happened nearer home, for I sus pect there arc many persons in this meeting who have not the least idea of .the actual increase of wages that has taken place among the factory operatives in this neigh bourhood during the last fifty years. I was looking the other day at one of our wages books in 1840 aud 1841. I will tell you what I found in it, and what I find in our wages book now. The figures are taken over an average of two months' at that time and over an average of two months now, and therefore present a iair statement Of what happened then and what happens now. 'Many persons here know, of course, all about the interior of a cotton factory, and I shall speak as if we were in a rniil and looking over the people at work. I find that in 1839 the thtostle piecers—l need not explain who they are—were receiving Bs. a week, and they were working twelve hours a day. I find tbat now the same class of hands are receiving 13s. a week at ten hours a day. If they were paid for that work for twelve hours, and paid at the same rate, it would be 16s. a week, or exactly, double what they received in 1839, 1840," and 1841. (Cheers.) The young women who worked at the draiting frames at that time at 7s. Cd. a week have now 155., and that is without'reckoniug the fact that they are working two hours a day less. The rovers aud slubbers got Ss. a week, and they arc getting 14s. a week now. The doffers (laughter) are considered a class whose wits are a little too sharp (laughter), and are sometimes not very manage able ; they used to have os. fid. a week, and they now have 9s. 6d. The warpers iv those days, as far as my recollection serves me, aud I am speaking of our own, were all women; they earned, on the average of the two months, 17s, 6d. a week; the warpers now arc .all men, and they have earned iv the two months an average of 35s (id a week (cheers). Well, at that time we had a very clever man, a black smith, whom I used to like to see strike the sparks oil. His wages were 225. a week. Well now our blacksmiths have wages of .345. a week, and they only work factory time, which was then twelve hours. Now you see the enormous change in the people in these factories. They have two hours' leisure which they had not before, and their wages are nearly double. Now I know what will be said. The criticism will be—"Yes, but their throstles have more spindles, and their mules have more spindles, and their roving frames, or their drawing-frames, go faster, and a great many thing?." They are the same "class of persons. Their work does not appear to be any more burdensome at present than it was forty years ago, the machinery has been greatly improved,- and I lielieve, al though there has been this increase of wages and that shortened time, by great improvement in machinery, yams, most yarns are spun as cheaply as they were then."' Still I think it is impossible to account for this extraordinary improvement in the wages of agricultural labourers, of bricksettcrs, and gardeners, and all your factory«opeiative_, and all your mechanics, upon any other theory than this—that the new policy with regard to trade, which has made: our trades fourfold, has been the cause which has made this stupendous and unimagincd improvement in the condition of the people (cheers),

MUSICAL NOTES.

[Written for the Star by Professor F. 0. Cah-liait.l ko. 1-why music languishes in the colonies. Art, a philosopher has said, is nature con centrated aud embellished ; and he is right. It is the precious stone freed from all foreign matter and polished by the lapidary. This, in Europe, is comprehended by the majority; but, in the colonies, there are only a select few. who are capable of per-, ceiving the difference which exists between real and fictile ait. Why do they not raise their voiaes in order to arrest our youth in the mistaken course they pursue through defective knowledge of this subject ? Find out, ye who can. Criticism, as its Greek etymology in dicates, is the art of examining, of judging, and of censuring. Does Jour nalistic criticism answer to this definition? Evidently not, and in order to be convinced of this, let us read—if we have the courage and patience — one after the -other, the reports given of musical and theatrical entertainments. Almost all of them have the faculty of wearying the readers, -without enlightening anyone. As for the trifling causes which operate to the production ot such relations of faots, we know them well enough. It is business, habit, and conde scension, when it is not love of gain (which is not the same thing as love of ait), and we venture to say that they are little favourable to the development of an art which from all time has been called upon to exercise the most propitious influence on the civilisation of mankind. In fact, the hackneyed character of the expressions which are employed, the stereo typed forms that are used, the compliments whose triviality suggests failure rather than success, prove that a large proportion of these reports do not record the sincere opinions of the writers. aud that the ground-work, over which a few withered flowers have been spread, does not bear the unmistakable impress of trutb. Every critique, whose worthlessness at bottom corresponds with the poverty of its style, tends to mislead him who is the sub ject of it, and deceives also, very prejudi cally, the public. It is a great pity that the sensations produced by the effects of music cannot be transmitted to pos terity by their reproduction at will; now much art would gain by it! But how cojuld we transmit by cold language an inflection ot the voice, a look, a gesture, a pause,—in fine, those thousand nuances of art and of beauty which characterise the style of a great virtuoso ? It would be easier to fix and determine light, or to weigh heat. If that could be done, we could also try to re vive the finest of those superb paintings whose colours have been tarnished by rime, or succeed perhaps in awakening to active play the sluggish tastes of an indifferent public. However difficult such a task may be, criticism must not spare any effort to surmount the obstacles which render it so.

The voice is the most exquisite of in struments, when by labour founded on ex perience'one becomes master of it. The art of stimulating and exciting the emotions by the inflexions of the voice is very com plex, and it demands from him who wishes to excel in it the rarest qualities. If we only knew what an amount of study and what an exercise of patience are required before a successful singer masters his vocal organ, and is able to express with fidelity by it the sentiments which he ex periences 1 The sound which issues from hia lips, fully impregnated, ii the simile may be allowed. With the essence of his soul,-ana reflecting the infinite colours of passion, has been, as the diamond, sub jected for many years to the file of the lapidary. Volumes might bo written in order to demonstrate the influence which the great singers of past centuries have had not only on art but also on the march of civilisation. To name only one, we would say that Farinelliwas all-powerful at the Conrt of the.kings of Spain, Philip V,, and Ferdinand Vl.', where, during 29 years, he wielded the influence of a Prime Minister.

Since I came to the colonies, I have per ceived that he who spouts the loudest is the one who sings the best. He.need not in any way concern himself about quality or evenness _tf tone ; provided he exerts his lungs to their utmost capacity,' he is gratified with all sorts of eulogiums, past, present, and future. If a painter were executing a painting of extraordinary size, but one ol which the de sign, the tints, and, in short, everything else was bad, should we not be eager to say to him—" Produce us a painting to thd* -.est of your ability, and do not trouble yourself about the dimensions of the canvas; but pay regard rather to choice and delineation of subject, so that everyone may comprehend and appreciate yon." Why should not the same thing hold true with respect to music? If it is only a matter of shouting, man cannot hope to rival certain animals. The ass, for example, when it has arrived at maturity, has a powerful voice, and can vocalize loud enough almost to cause the dead to start from their tombs.

No, I repeat, to shout is not to sing, and a good singer must not seek to exceed the range of Up voice without running the chance of subjecting to torture the people who listen to him, while, at the same time, he is torturing himself.

The great composers have generally written their principal operas for choice or exceptionally good voices, and they have often been reproached for it. Meyerbeer was one of those who had most' recourse to tbe notes which are beyond the compass of an ordinary voice. For 20 yeare he kept *' L'Africaine " hidden away in his drawer, not being able to find singers equal to its performance, and, if he were not dead, we should not yet have had the pleasure of seeing this gigantic work. Is it any reason because one singer makes his notes sharp that all the others should be obliged to seek to imitate him ? Cer tainly not j when one cannot fly he has to walk.

It is related that some English authors wrote for the comedian Foote, who had a wooden leg, parts which those whb had the misfortune to he perfectly sound and com plete in physique could not play. It would be still easier to have one's leg cut off than to emit a npte which does not exist in onr vocal equipment. Let us remain each one in his place; it is far better to produce a good upper fa or sol, than the quarter of a bad la. In my next article I shall give the reason why there are so very few good voices in Auckland, and also a notice of the theat rical troupes which come to play here.

Printed and Published by the Proprietor, HeNß t Buktt, of Symonds-street, at his General Printing Office, Wyndham-street, in the Pro> ; * vince of Auckland, New Zealand. I .. Saturday, January 28,!____.

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, JANUARY 2s, 1882.

4



TW" 0 T I G E. To Owners, Occupiers of Warehouses, Shops, Schools, Dwellings, of the City ani>'suburbs of auckland. Mr George Wilson, Sole Contractor to the City Council for Emptying Closets, Cesspits, Supplying Earth, Removing Rubbish, &c„ has this day made arrangements with Thomas Slater, Lessee of City Market, to keep the Books for said Contract and receive all Moneys and Orders. All Accounts must bo paid the first week of each month (unless specially arranged for). Any account remaining unpaid, notice will be given to the Inspector of Nuisances. No more work done until such accounts are paid. Central DopOt for receiving Money and Orders: Weighbridge Oiilce, City Market, from I to a. GEORGE WILSON. ** Witness: A. Buckland. Auckland, 2nd January, 1882. N.B.—For all Casual Boxes tho money must accompany the orcter,or it will not be attended to.



H^ HUGHES? , FAMILY GROCER & TEA DEALER, » DRAPER, HOSIER, AND HABERDASHER H Junction oio Union anu WismsoTosr lm STREETS. , I || Goods of best quality at moderate prices. A ■ nice assortment of China and Earthenware '■ always on hand. Families waited On tor orders* -J Goods delivered. DRAPER")-, MILLINERY,& LADii^i'il AND CHILDREN'S UNDERCLOTHDJoJ^S H. FOUNTAIN, PoNSOJnre Road, is now offering the above at lowest towji •' ■'< prices for CAS?, and respectfully solicits a': ' continuance of the patronage of his numeroir customers. ■■■■>■■ . G. S I N G L E T 0 JSLfI j ' ELECTRO-PLATER, Gilder, Jeweller, and Silversmith, '"M Having, at considerable expense, fitted up those ' Commodious Premises, situate next the corner SM Of VICTORIA AND HonSON-STItEKTS, AuCiduod is now prepared to execute all kinds of Electro-"' *S Elating, Gilding, and Repairing. Ladles caa * eve their Old Jewellery renovated and nutflirtSi equal to new. All kinds of Jewellery antfcy: Watches repaired at the lowest rates. ■• w F.G.S. would call tho attention Of the Public ;.' to his Stock of New Goods, and an inspection of his Window is respectfully invited. "A Thing of Beauty is a Joy for Ever!" As,, the Festive Season is approaching, and we iiH 1 look forward to meeting "Our Uncles, Ocr Cousins, and' Our Aunts, nothing at these re- '••'"' unions looks nicer than a well-spread table; bajv if your Cruets, Spoons, and Forks are shabby, if,, will spoil tho effect; so If your Pla_"e wants ie- ' novating or plating, F.G.S. is prepared w&m them at the following reasonable rates:— '$X , MfrPLATING. . • •; M Table and Dessert Spoons and Forks, 12/ SGtSM Tea Spoons, 8/ dozen Salt and Mustard Spoons. 6/dozen ' ■'iK| Cruets, from 5; to 12/6 each 091 Salvers, Cake Baskets, and Side Dishes at."! reasonable rates, according to size Albert Chains, 2/; Watch Cases, 2/6 m Cornet Mouth-pieces, from 1/6 'w. Brooches, 1/; Earrings, 1/ per pair. 1 EE-OILDINO. if Watch Cases, 3/6 eaoh; Long Chains, 5/6 eacjlr 'm Albert Chains, 3/6 each . m Brooches, from 2/eaoh <s3| Earrings, 2/ pair: Rings, 2/ each. , i M • A liberal allowance to the Trade. F.G.S. has a Large Stock of Spectacles alwayss-'! To Arrive, a Splendid Assortment ot the Best H Electro-plated Ware, consisting of Spoons, ' H Forks, Cruets, Salvers,&c, Sec ; yl THE NEW REMEDY POR ASTHMA, I DIFFICULTY OF BREATHING, &c„ *'i "EUPHORBIA PILULtFERA" 1 (A NATIVE PLANT OF QUEENSLAND), ■ ■■■_'\M A MOST VALUABLE RBMED :.'- Also, 'i.A B D S 0 n*S- y SYRUP OP HYPOPHOSPHITES,» : ; ; WITH :: ' "EUPHORBIA PILULIFERA," or Asthma, Chronic Bronohitis. Coughs, . Hoarseness, Tightness op the Chest, Incipient Consumption, Sic. ■ '..' "[,'■■ The advantage of this preparation is the own- > blnation of the expectorant qualities of the ' Euphorbia Pilulifcra with the reparative pro perties of the Hypophosphltes so universallyl'' esteemed for their power to recoup the waste ' and loss of tono attendant upon this class of complaints. The proprietor can. with confidence, ' recommend this chemical combination {although it has not beeU niade publicly known, the Bale is J ' considerable and daily increasing, together with the voluntary testimony from time to time to j the marked benefit derived from its use, induces ' greater publicity. Tho syrup is agreeable to .'Jin','*,' taste, and may be taken by the most fastidicr_j_*'_" In Bottles at 3s. 6d. ~ y./fj ~ J. ED SON, MEDICAL HALL, QUEEN-STREET, Auc_a__t__y,.<; [ _* WALTER BAYW^I' , Kyberpass,.,' .■•■■.' j tf NDERT AX E R I Of 20 years' experience. I. ' 1 Funerals conducted with 'dispatch, and I . at prices to defy competition, I / H LANVILLE & TILLYETT \ . TEA DEALERS 11 FAMILY GROCERS, ..'fl ' lii, QUEfiN STREET, ' '$m (Opposite the Union Bane), ' j \ H AUCKLAND. -■..-. -■ ■ '. NEW SEASON'S TEAS, ' '. Highly Recommended. ■ j||| j^hpßwmKJ mb^Jvho^ rfBF* m\ "IIJB i WIZARD OIL; is a cUßttiyruishina ''• name, given by Frank Weston to his Medicine, which is composed ol j various Vegetable Oils, Healing Gums, Bare Balsams, Boots, Barks ana m Herbs, (found only on tbe Great Amer- «j ican Continent,) forming tbe Cbemical Compound universally known m ! "Weston's Wizard Oil. This Medicine was first introduced, by Frank Weston, to tbe Australian . Public in 1804, and the wonderful and , mysterious influence it exhibited is I stopping the most excruciating Pains, 1 Aches and Infirmities, in a few days ; after its use is well known.* Ite mixao-' ;' ulous power in rising the Bed-ridden) Cri.ppledi-Rhoumatic.NeuralgiCjdiveßt"..-^ ing the uystem of all suffering from - pain, inflammation, and weakness, curing in a few days the sickness anagu diseases of months and years givinejP" instantaneous Ease and Comfort in au ordinary pains and aches, either inter nal or external, all cramps, spasms, congestions, &c, is well known. V • ■•>$ Weston's Wizard Oil has the power to distribute itself over every part of the body internally as well as extern ally, curing the most inveterate casee of tunions, ulcers, scrofula, diseased liver, pileß, swellings, wounds, &c.____*c.