"A matter ot some importance," con tinued Mr Gryce. "It is not necessary for me to remind you that it is in confidence, ia it?" "No." " I .thought not. Mr Fobbs you may ■proceed." Instantly the whole appearance of the man Fobbs changed. Assuming an eXDres aion of lofty importance, he laid his large hand outspread upon his heart and com menced. •'Detailed by Mr Gryce to Watch the movements of Mis* Eleanore Leavenworth, I left this room upon her departure from it, and followed her and the two servants who condactcd her, upstairs to her own apart ment. Once there—" Mr Gryce interrupted him. " Once there? where?" "Her own room, sir." •'Where situated?" "At the head of the stairs." "That is not her room. Go on." " Not her room ? then it ««w tho fire she was after," cried he, clapping hia hand on the knee. "The fire?" " Excuse me, I am ahead of my story. (She did not appear to notice me much, though I was rigufc behind her. It was not until ehe had reached 'he door of this room —which was not her room," lie interpolated dramatically, " and turned to dismiss her servants, that she seemed conscious that she was followed. Looking at me then with an air of great dignity, quickly eclipsed, however, by an expression of patient en durance, she walked in, leaving the door open behind her in a courteous way that 1 cannot sudiciently commend." I could not h«lp frowning. Honest as the man appeared, this was evidently any thing but a sore subjqct with him. Observ ing me frown, he softened his manner. "Not seeing any other way of keeping her under my eye, and thus performing my duty creditably, except by entering the room I followed her and took a seat in a remote corner. She flashed one look at me as I did so, and. commenced pacing the room in a restless kiud of wuy I'm not altogether un used to. At last she stopped abruptly, right in the middle of the room. ' Get me a, glass of water,'she gasped; 'I'm faint again—quick ! on the stand in the corner.' Now in order to get that glass of water it was nocessiry for me to pass behind a dress ing mirror thai reached almost to the ceil ing and I naturally hesitated. But she turned and looked at mo, and—Well gen ilemon, I think either of you would have hastened to do what she asked ; or at least —" with a doubtful look at Mr Gryce— "have given your two ears for the privilege, even if you didn't succumb to the tempta tion."

"Well, well!"- exclaimed Mr Gryce Impatiently.

"I am going on," said he. "I stepped out of sight, then, for a moment, but it seemed long enough for her purpose, for when I emerged glass in hand, she was kneeling at the grate full live feet from the spot where she had been standing, and was fumblina; with the waist of her dress in a way that convinced me she had something concealed there, which she was anxious to dispose of. I eyed her pretty closely as I handed her the glass of water, but she was gazing into the grate with a look such as I don t remember ever seeing before, and didn't appear to notice. Drinkmg barely a drop, she gave it back, and in another moment was nolding out her hands over the fire. '0, I am so cold,' murmured she, so cold.' And I verily believe she was. At any rate she shivered most natu rally. But there were a few dying embers in the grate, and when I saw her thrust her hand again into the folds of her dre?a, I be came aistrusttnl of her intentions, and drawing a step nearer, looked over her shoulder, when I distinctly saw her drop something into the grate that clinked as it fell. Suspecting what it was, I was about to interfere, when she sprang to her feet, seized the scuttle of coal *hat was upon the heartli, and with pne move emptied the whole upon the dying embers. ' I want a fire,'she cried, 'afire.' 'That is hardly the way to make one,' I returned, carefully taking the coal out with my hands, piece J>y piece, and putting it back into the scuttle, till,—"

"Till what?" Tasked, seeing him and Mr Gryce exchange a hurried look. " Till I foimd this,'' opening his large hand and showing me a broken handled key.

(To he continued.)

Ludicrous Mistake.

A Frenchman, newly arrived in London, Impatient to sec the town, but fearful of not finding his way back to his hotel, carefully copied upon a card the name on the wall at the corner of the street in which he was situated. This done, he felt himself safe, and set out for a ramble, much upon the principle vulgarly known aa " following one's nose.'' The whole daylong he strolled and stared to his heart's content; wearied at last, he jumped into a cab, and with the easy, confident air of a man who feels him self at home, he read from the card he had prudently preserved, the name of the street lie dwelt in. The cabman grinned horribly. " This English pronunciation is sadly diffi cult," said the Frenchman to himself, "he does not understand me." And he placed the card before the man's eye. Cabby grinned more than ever, gazed in his fare's astonished face and ended by sticking his hands in his pockets and roaring with laughter, Indignation on the part of the foreigner; he appealed to the passers-by, who gravely listened to him at first, but upon beholding his card, joined one and all in chorus with the coachman. The French man now got furious ; swore, stamped, gesticulated lfke a candidate for Bedlam. He went so far as to threaten the laughers ; a crowd assembled; everybody sympathised with him till they learned the circumstan ces of the case, when forthwith they joined ia the infectious hilarity. Up came the police, those guardian angels of bewildered foreigners in London's labyrinth. The aggrieved Gaul felt sure of sympathy, suc cour and revenge. He was never more mis taken. The gentlemen in blue roared with the rest, They evidently could not help it. Compunction mingled with their mirth, but they, nevertheless, guffawed exceedingly. ■To what extremities the desperate French man might have proceeded, it is impossible to say, had not a gentleman acquainted with the language appeared upon the scene. •P-e too, laughed violently on beholding the card, and when be had spoken a few words to the Frenchman, tbe Frenchman laughed likewise, which was a signal for a recom mencement of the general hilarity. -The address, so carefully copied by the foreigner ■at the corner of his street was the following : "Stick no Bills."

A life spent worthily should be measured by deeds, not years.

Dr. Franklin says that " every little frag uient of the day should be saved," Oh, yes, the moment che day break?, set yourself at once to save the pieces, >

A ■western paper has this delicate personal item :>—" Those who know nice old Mr. .aon, of this place, personally, will re t to hear thnt he was assulted in a atal manner last week, but was not Jed."

LIFE IN ENGLAND TWO CENTURIES AGO:

A Chapter in English Social History

[By J. D. Davis.]

SECTION VIII.-Concluded,

DKESS AND FASHION,

We now come to what Mr Pepys himself used to wear, and as his allusions to new clothes are so numerous we shall have to make a selection. When lie went with the fleet to Holland to bring Charles 11. from exile he bought at the Hague " linning stockings and wide canons." ("Canons" were stockings.) After the death of the Duke of Gloucester (third son of Charles I.), of smallpox, Pepys, like everybody else iv any way connected with tho Court, went into mourning, and among other things ho boiight " a pnir of short black stockiugs, to wear over a pair of silk one?." Just be fore King Charles was restored Pepys had been wearing for some time a' suit with "great skirts," the ordinary dress of the time. Not very long after-about six months—there was brought home for him a "Hue camlet cloak, with gold buttons and a silk suit," which cost him "much money," and which, by the by, was not then paid for. Pepys' income was increas ing, his position at the Admiralty appeared secure, and, besides, the reaction from tho severe mauners of the Puritans was begin ning to make itself felt. Dniiug the next autumn long cloaks " went out," and short ones became fashionable. On coronation day (22nd April, 1CC1) Pepys made himself as fine as he could, and donned his velvet coat, the first lie bad ever had on. In the autumn of ICG3 Pepys gave £55 for what was evidently a complete outfit : he enume rates the following as being the principal articles, " velvet cloak, two new cloth skirts, black, plain cloth ; a new shag gown, trimmed with gold buttons and twist, with a new hat, and silk tops for my legs." In addition there were two " pcmwigg3," l one of which cost £3 and the other 40s. He was resolved, he said, to go henceforth "like himself." A month or two later ho again favours \is with another full descrip tion of his appearance :—"29th November, 1663 (Lord's Day).—This morning I put on my best black cloth suit, trimmed with Scarlett ribbon, very neat (!), with my cloak lined with velvett, and a new beaver, which altogether U very noble, with my black silk-knit canons'; (i.e. stockings). Iv June, IGlio, he was rich enough to give above £24 for a "camelott suit," the best he had ever worn in his life. Two years later he gave £4 10s for a couple of peri wigs, a price he considered too high, but the wigmaker over-persuaded him. dentle raen at that time wore swords. Pepys gave fifty-five shillings for a belt of a colour " to match his new suit." One of his swords cost twelve shillings, but it was not his silver-hilted one which he had gilded (30th April, 1669). In one of Evelyn's pamphlets, entitled " Tyrannu?, or the Mode," he satirises the exquisites of liis time in the subjoined pas sage :—" It was a Jine silken thing which I spied walking t'other day through West minster Hall, that had as much ribbon about him as would have plundered six shops, and set up twenty country pedlars. All hi 9 body was dressed like a May-pole, or a Tom-a-Bedlam's cap. A frigate newly rigged kept not half sncli a clatter in a storm, as this puppet's streamers did when the wind was in his shrouds ; the motion was wonderful to behold, and the well chosen colours were red, orange, blue and well-gummed satfn, which argued a happy fancy ; bnt so was our gallant overcharged that whether lie did wear this garment, or as a porter bear it only, was not easily to be resolved."

The following'description of the habits of the Duke of Newcastle in the reign of Charles 1., though referring to a period earlier than the one we are concerned with, probably has application to the days when Cromwell or his son reigned. "He ac coutres his person according to the fashion, if it be one that is not troublesome and UDeasy for men of heroic exercises and actions. He is neat and cleanly, which makes him to be somewhat long iv dress ing, though not so long as many effemi nate persons are. He shifts ordinarily once a day, and'every time when he uses exercise, or his temper is more hot than ordinary." The fashions in beards before the Resto ration were absurdly extravagant. A con temporary poet—John Taylor—satirically describes some of them in his " Superbice Flagellum" :—

'.' Some are reap'd most substantial like a brush, Which makes a natural wit known by the bush. Some seem as they were starched stiffand fine, Like to the bristles of some angry swine ; Some like a spade, some like a fork, some square, Some round, some mow'd like stubble, some stark bare: Some sharp, stilottq-foshion, dagger-like, That may with whispering a man's eyes out pike : Some with the hammer cut, or Roman T,

Their beards extravagant reform'd must be." The stiletto beard, just mentioned, is thus noticed in aa old ballad :—

" The stiletto beard; O, it makes me afeard. It is so sharp beneath; For ho that doth place A dagger in his face, ■\V hat must ho wear in his sheath 3" Some of the gallants are said to have been so nice and particular about their beards as to put pasteboard cases over them at night, lest they should rumple and dis arrange them iv their sleep. As one of the citations from Pepys given above proves, wigs were introduced into England soon after the Restoration. Many Puritans were scandalised at the novel fashion, considering it worse than long hair such as the Cavaliers had worrj, because quite unnatural; and numerous preachers were found to inveigh most fiercely against the innovation, nnd to cut their short hair even shorter, to impress their denunciations by example. But not all the divines dis liked wigs, for Dr Nathaniel Vincent, Chaplain in Ordinary to the King, once preached before his Majesty at Newmarket, attired in a long periwig and Holland sleeves, the then fashion for gentlemen. The king was offended, and directed the Duke of Monmouth, Chancellor of the University of Cambridge, to see the statutes concerning decency of apparel put in execu tion, which was done accordingly. A couple of anecdotes about one John Mul lincr, a wigmaker of Northampton, may not be out of place here. He-early became one of the members of the Society of Friends, whereupon he came to the con clusion that his calling was an ungodly one, and he manfully gave it up. " His great delight was music, and he was wont to play upon the ' cittern or treble viol,' but be dis covered that such pleasure was an unlawful indulgence, and at once burned his instru ments, 'and had great peace of mind in doing it.' His exclamation when he made this, to him, great sacrifice is_ very touch ing :—' It is true I love thi3 music, but what good can these sounds do me when my soul wants peace with God.'"— {" Athenaeum," No. 2841.)

SECTION IX

TRAVELLING.

Pepys notes in his Diary tbat a genera tion beforo his day country gentlemen used to make their wills before setting out tor London. Tho conditions of travelling had not much, improved in Pepys' own time, however, for the dangers and inconveniences attending those who made long jour neys from home had not been markedly diminished. If they escaped the highway man, they wore very likely to lose their way, or to get bogged on some road more than ordinarily miry. Failing such serious troubles, they were almost sure to bo an noyed by ill-kept taverns, inferior or insuf ficient food, and "lousy beds" (see Pepys under date 12th June, 16G8). The well-to do journeyed in coaches drawn by four or six horses, the whole of whose draaging powers were in winter time hourly dc mauded to get the vehicle out of the nume rous soft places in the road*. Tho travel lers wore likely to bo stopped at any moment by highwaymen, many of whom were bold enough to carry ou their lucrative if risky trade within a few miles of tho metropolis. Mr Evelyn was stopped in June, 1G52, by two cut-throats armed with staves and pistols, at Bromley (distant from London about ten mile?); and they qnickly relieved him of bis money (which was not consider able), a silver-hilted sword, two rings, and a valuable pair of buckles set with rubies and diamonds. Attcr robbing him they bound him hand and foot. Evelyn after a while was able to free himself, aud then took lmiucdiatcsteps to recover his property, and secure the robber?. The former with the exception of his sword, ho was able to do, but it seems that the rogues went unap prehondoil. Ono of the most famous heroes of the road contemporary with Pepys and Evelyn was Claude Duvol. The scene of his explotis was Holloway, between Isling ton aud Highgato, which were then mere villages separated ftom London by a wide stretch of open country. Duval's career was short, for he was hanged at Tyburn in January, IGG9, when only 27 years of ago It is significant tliat his body lav in sate at the Tangiers Tavern,St.Giles's, thathis fune ral was attended by a numerous company, and that " the grief of the women at his un timely fate was excessive."* James Whit ney " flourished" later than Duval. He was captured iv 1692, and in the following February was hanged in Smithlield. He had offered to reveal the names of his ac complice? on condition of a free pardon, but the Government believing he had nothing important to disclose, would not interfere between him and the gallows. It would be eiisy to niult'ply tales of highwaymen, for they were a numerous class, and were imprisoned by the score together in New gate alone; but the latest exploits of one Payne must suffice. Ho killed live or six persons in a short time (1G91), .and at Tyburn kicked tho Ordinary (chaplain) out of the cart, " and pulled off his snoes, say ing he would cnnira'iict the old proverb, and not die in them." It is a trifling con sol&ttOD to know tbat the Newgate Ordinary of the day was not much better than his charge, and henco the insult was not so gross and outrageous as might be supposed. In London lumbering hackney coaches were to be lured, and it would seem that tho unfortunate fare, if any accident hap pened to the vehicle, had lo pay the cost of repairs. Pepys, before he set np his own carriage, constantly employed hackney coaches During and after the plague time he was afraid to tide iv them owing to the risk of infection (Juno 17,1GG5). Hackney coaches were liable to be stopped a f. night by watchmen, who sometimes were hard to be satisfied as to the morals and character of the occupants inside. (Pepys, 26th March, IGGS.) Wneu Pepys became a man of meaus ho was proud to possess a cnach of his own, the horses for which cost him £50. The rate of travel for coaches was not more than 30 to 40 miles per day. Pepys in one day was able only to reach from London the town of Bishop's Stortford, about 30 miles distant. A good idea at the ra'c at which equestrians travelled may be gathered from the journal of Mr Edward Browne, fon of the famous Sir Tbomas Browne, who in February, IGG4, set out from Norwich on his road to London. At the end of the first day he reached Cam bridge, having accomplished 4G miles. The second day hs made only 27 miles, the dis tance between Cambridge and Hodsdun. The third day he rode from the latter town to his destination, 17 miles. Ihe next month Mr Browne returned from London to Norwich in three days, making journeys of 25, 45, and 19 miles respectively. Evelyn describes a "chariot" invented co as not to overturn no matter how uneven the road travelled over. It could cany but one pas senger, however, it was ready to take fire every.ten miles, and the noise made by it " almost intolerable." A number of curious stories of rapid journeying are on record. One of the most extraordinary is told by Stow, the chronicler and antiquary. A man named Bernard Calvert took horse from St. George's Church, Southwark, at 3 one morning, arrived at Dover at 7, there stepped on board an eight-oared barge which conveyed him to Calais and back, then by the aid of swift horses and guides who knew the country, he made his way back to St. George's Church, where he dis mounted a little after 8 p.m., "fresh and lusty." He had accomplished a journey of 186 miles, 42 of it by vrater, in seventeen hours. Those who could not afford to travel in their own or hired carriages made use of the public coacb. These vehicles improved greatly after the Restoration, when "Hying" coaches began to compete with each other. Their rate of speed was about fifty miles a day in summer, and often les3 than thirty in winter. The fare charged was abouttwo pence-halfpenny per mile in summer, and a littlemore the otherpartot the year: fourteen pounds of luggage were allowed to each passenger. In the spring of 1669 a diligence made the whole journey from Oxford to London, 55 miles, in a single day. The sister University was not to be outdone, and soon a coach was set up to run in a day from Cambridge to the metropolis. The coaches from York, Chester, and Exeter were four days on the road to London when the roads were in fair condi'ion, but at Christmas time travellers spent more than five days on the journey. The poorer classes', when they had oc casion to travel, went on foot. "Mr" Richard Hooker, during his college days, walked with one enmpanion from Oxford to Exeter to visit bis mother. The two took Salisbury on their way, and wnrc en tertained hospitably by the good Bishop who lent Richard a "horse/ (as be fa cetiously termed a stout staff), and gave him bis benediction and 20 groats, ten for himself and ten for his mother, promising him 10 groats more if he brought back the " horse" safe. Pedestrians at night in the city were attended by link bearers, whoso feeble lights, costing two or three pence a piece, were barely sufficient to keep the belated ones out of the dirty kennels. The danger of such an accident was by no

means inconsiderable, especially in wet weather. John Greonhiil, a painter of some note, one of Sir Peter Lely's pupils, was coming home one night from the Vine Tavern, and tumbled into a kennel in Long Acre. He was t.tken to his lodgings in Lin coln's Inn, aud died there the same night, May 19;h, 1676.—(Walpole's "Anecdotes of Paiuting.") Travelling by sea waa most uncertain. Wind and weather were the travellers' un dcviablo tyrants. Under favourable con ditions passages then considered rapid were made. Evelyn, in 1640, embarked at Rochester on board a Dutch frigate ono day, and landed by noon of the next nt Flushing. In the summer of 1650 he passed from Calais to Dover iv seven hours. Pirates were then not unkuown in the Straits of Dover, and a month later when Evelyn was making the return journey to Calais, the packet was chased by two of them. In February, 1652, Evelyn was over 12 hours crossing the Straits, the wind being light. Mr Kdward Browne made the passage from Dovor to Calais in IGG4 in four hours. The faro charged was five shillings each traveller, three ponce being demnmied as a sort of poll-tax for each on landing in France. [This serfes of papers will be completed in three morel Sections, viz.:—No. X., " State of tho Fine Arts;" Xo. XL, •' Know ledge of the Healing Art;" and No. XII. " Methods of Punishment.I']

CONFESSION OF THE TOOWFOOMBA MURDER.

The following is the confession of Margaret Spillanc, after her removal from the Police Court at Toowooniba, on tho 12th June luet, whore with her husband she was charged with tho murder of Michael Irwia : —"My had munleriog hands did it; no one hut God witnessed it; my child was iv bed ; my child was asleep. Lord have mercy ou his soul ! ] did it. Oh, God have mercy ! I did it. I did it and lie did not speak. I took him short. I thought it was v Chinaman. Oh, God have mercy ou his soul. I did if, aud there was uo witness but the great God ; my child was fast asleep. I did it, and dragged him iv tho morning by the legs; he was dead. Oh, God have mercy on his soul! And no ouo but the great Uod seen mo ; it's a great deal on my conscience. Lord nave rnorcy ou his eoul ! I did it, and the great God seen mo doing that; and I thought I had a Chinamen, and did It. Wednesday morning I heard Michael Irwin was missing. I did it. I drow that man by the legs. My murdering hands 1 1 thought 1 was dragging a Cuinainau. I did it at 11 o'clock nt night, aud dragged him beforo the day. Oh, Lord, have mercy on his soul !No witness but the great God saw me do that, aud let my body suffer, 1 thought I had a Chinatnau all the time. I did not think Michael Irwin was coming to ruy fowluouse. Lord have mercy on him ! 1 would not think, Michael, that you wore coming Into my fowlhouso, I thought it a Chinaman. Mo witness but the great God, my dear boy being asleep. He threw him self down on the spot 1 murdered him, and I hit him five blows with a stick, and murdered him. With a round stick I murdered him ; and I did it, ] did it. Oh, Michael, 1 didn't think you so mean as to go to my fowlhouso for the sake of a few fowl". My child was asleep. And the great Gi d have mercy on your soul, poor Michaul ? 1 thought I had a Chinaman. My body must suffer. And you never spoke to me—never spoke to me at all. lie died at two o'clock, and I sat up by the fireplace, and I heard the man moan till two o'clock, and I thought of going over fjr the wards man ; aud I got up aud dragged him by tho leg, and the devil helped ma to drag him, aud I thought I had a Chinaman because he was all bloody. The body was all black. The man laj from eleven till two. 1 could hear him moan till he died. Oh, God, have mercy on your poor soul! And 1 gave him five blows on the head, and murdered him with a round stick that I burnt next day. I did not think, Michael, you would be so nieau ; I chased him as far as the fence, aud he threw himself down on the fence because he did not wish me to see him ; and I thought he was a Chinaman ; and ho lay on his face and I hit him with a round stick ; gave him five blows ; I did not think he was so mean as to come to my fowlhouse ; aud my child was asleep in bed, and no one but tho great God was witness to the deed, ana . my own conscience ; and my poor man lay moaning till two o'clock, and I went out before day and bolted the door and put my hand to his mouth, and he was dead ; and 1 did not know who was there then; my temper was always violent; and I murdered you, Michael Irwia; the great God seen me murder you; I did murder you ; look at my two murdering hands ; I gave him live blows, and I gave him fire heavy blows, and I came home ; five heavy blows with a round atiok; he moaned till two o'clock, and called ' Tom,' and I thought it was for the wardsman. Oh, my great deed I did to my neighbour! Lord hare mercy on your soul! Let my body suffer. And the devil helped my hands to drag yon, Michael. I caught yda by the leg. I have nothing more to say, but I murdered Michael Irwin. My two hands murdered him, hit him five blows with a round stick, and he died before two o'clock. I heard the town clock strike all night, and he never moaned after two o'clock; and he palled out' Tom, Tom,' I believe to the wardsman, He died in agony. O, poor man, you died in great agony, you did. And my two murdering hands, with the help of the doil, dragged him, and I cried that 1 should do snch a thing. 1 knew he was a maß, but thought he was a Chinaman, and I knew that he was a Christian. I would not have thought Michael Irwin would go after a few paltry fowls. I did not think he would be so mean as to go to the fowlhouse. I did that deed and never told any one. It was heavy on my conscience. Oh, my con science ! Oh, my two nasty murdering hauds 1 Oh, oh, oh 1 I did that nasty deed with, my hands. I have murdered a man with five blows of a heavy stick, I have nothing at all to say but I murdered Michael Irwin. It i«i heavy on my conscience, and the great God saw me do it; let my body suffer. I murdered him with five heavy blows, and took him away. I inuidered Michael, I did, He did not wish me to know him, and (if he had not had a drop in him he would not have thought of doing a dirty trick. The man lay from eleven till two o'clock, and I know Tie died in agony, in agony; ho died in agony.flU He died at two o'clock. He sang out fearfully for Tom, it must "hi the wards mar), and I sat by the fire, I did, I did. I thought to go to the hospital to get help. I put a bag over him to gather the bloocf, so it wonld not show where I dragged him, I did not mean to kill him, but gave him too much. Ob, don't I always have a wild temper? But let my body suffer anything at all. Oh, that I should do that to poor Michael, the father of a family. Great God, have mercy on your soul! Oh, I hope I will repent before 1 die. I chased him in my nightgown, without my shoes. Unfortunately the sapling was beside him, Great God have

me.rc/, on y°ur B<>ul ! 1 took you short: and I do suffer, and I did make you suffer • and I did murder him cruelly, so crnel os I murdered him. No matter wli»t I cave him he would not scream, but I did not know him, know he was there. Oh, Michael, why didn't you speak to me. and I would not strike you, poor man. Yonr poor faca was disguised with blood in the morniug, no one would know it. Fifty times I rested when dragging him. I thought to let him go with tbe other China men. '—"Darling Downs Gazette."

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENTS JULY 22, 1882.

3



•Samuel Butler wrote a mock-heroic odo in memory of •' . . The brave Duval, whose name Can never bo worn out by fame." He alludes to his attractiveness with the fair 'sex, and states that to the prison where ihe highwayman was confined " , . Came Indies from all parts, To offer up close prisoners thoir hearts. Which ho received as tribute due," &&



D. F. E v A N s» ESTATE, HOUSE. AND LAND AGENT. KARANGAHAPK ROAD — Commodious Honae, containing 8 rooms; allotment, 3S foot frontage to Karanßaaapo Road; pood position. Ptioe £55". • (ggi WBLcUNGTON-BTttKKT — New and Well flnlsbed Honae; sable end, bow window, verandah, &0.. G rooms, nicely flttod up, very oonvenleat; allotment, 33 x IV), £160. <3GO SALK STREK-A very Comfortable and;Well flnlshed House. S rooms, registered grate, oven, water laid on, &o.; nice garden and OUt-housoS. £-169. (332) UPPKR QUaKN-aTRKKT-A vory Comfort ablo House of 7 room?, all well flushed off; gas laid;ln. »oullery, &c, &o. Also nice New Hanee. 5 room*, well finished, and fitted with almont ovory oonvenlonoe; Rood woll, tank. &c. To bo sola toneihor. (392) HOWK-3TRKKT—A very pretty and compact Httlo Villa ot 5 roams, pantry, &o ; nloe Harden : allotment, 30 x 100; water laid In, K.O. £380. (425) PONSONBY-Honee. 7 rooms, pantry, Btore room, &a, &0,, together with 5 uoro-i. laid out In orchard, uardon, paddock, &o; splendid noa vlow. (61) LINCOLN-STRKKT-Very Comfortable Hou-o 7 rooms, bathroom, pantry, stablo, fowl nonao. &c., &o.; about half an aore laid out Id fljwer-garden.orohur d,&c, with entrance to Uraoo-Btront; could bo subdivided to ad vantage. £50r. (180) WOOU-alKttKT—ComfortAb'o Fesidence of 7 rooms, flttod with rub and almost tivery convnnlenco; fplondld allotment, about 140 x 159, all tastefully laid oat with fiowors, fruit-trees, &o.; grand view of harbrar, ftc (275) WOUU-STRKKT—RoBMonoe. 8 rooms ana out houses; allotmont. 165 x 165J fully stockod with fruit anil forest trous ; splundld vlow- Prloo only £525. . (301) WILLIAM-STHKKT (uoar WollinKton-etroot) —A nloo Vorandah Cottage ; i rooms. £c.: balcony at baeit; gaott woll; allotment 33x39. (US) OOOK.-31'KKKT -Verandah Cottago; i rooms: good woll; situate in Kast-struei, June oil" Uookßtreet. Only £130. (129) GRKAT NORTH HOAU (oornor of Brisbane and Stanley-streets)— Two good Vorandah GottaKo9, with outbouso, wall, &o.; allot ment to each 31 x 110. Price £350 for tho lot. (451) MONTAGUK - STRKKT, NKWTON - Hood Verandah Cottago; i rooms; Rood well. &o.; allocmontment 33 x !),). Cheap, £160 (179, DUKK.BTRKKT. NEWTON-Very oomfort able House; 6 rooms; lv flMt-olaas ordor; Rood well. oven. Ran fittings. &o.; allot mont 33 xO9 Cheap, only £100 (320) OUKK-STBKKT, NKW ION-Nioe Vorandah Cottage; J rooms; Rttblo mum, ii'most now:, allotment 33x93. vory dentrablo. (521) MILFORD-9URKKF. PONBONHY—New and well • finished Honao; 0 rooms, bosldea pantry, dairy, servants' rooms, (to.: fitted with register grates, ovens, &o.; allotmont 131 i)0l; la garden . togothor with stable, bugCT-hooß3, &o. £GOO (211) ANQIiKSKA-MTKKKT-Nico House; 0 rooms; Dtaalo, wash-houso, wood-shod. &o.; splon rti'i Rarden; corner ollotment; grand virw. £650. (265) CLaKkNCK STRKKT. PONBONBY-Ver«n. dab Cottage; 4 rooms, tank, &o.; allotment 48x80, OnlyJilSO. (200) BHKKHAN-3TKKKT. PONSONBY—NIoe Cot tago ; 1 rooms, verandah In front, and very oomfortabla; noar tho Hall. £230. (300) PROal'fiOT TKRKAOK—Comloruble House; G rooms; flttod with Blduboard, cupboard, Sco. ; gas lain on; allotment 40 x 190, £300, KM) PONBONBY TKRBACK-Now HousJ; 7 rooms (not quite fluldhon); Kood woll. tank. WOOiißhed, SO.; good allotment. 80 x 100 all fnnced A"d planted. £450. (417) NKWMAHKKT-Nioa Verandah Cottage Of 5 rooms, flttod with legl&tor, oven, etc., corner ltr, for £250, JOHN STKKJCT, Ponoonby — Cheap CottaKo, i roomß and soullerr, t roehold allotmont, 40 x 80, prlO't only £120. (472) HiCKET-Bt'liEST, noar steps to boaon, foot of at. Mary's lload—Handsome Villa, Rablo ends, bow-windows, and fltteii with regtß ter grate, oven, ouobnardß, etc. ; allotment 33 x 99; prloa on I v £300. (4UII CLARKNUE-9TRKET - A New and Woll fiolßhed Vorandah Cottago, i rooms and eou'lery ; flttol with roglstor grate, oven, cupboards, tanks, eto.; price £250, easy term=i (198) PROaPKCr TffißßACT—Hnndeomo and very desirable House. G roomn, souilery, eto register grate, oven, cupboard, shelve?, gti and water laid In, ato.; allotment 83 x 100 splendid little garden, choice trees, etc. WILLIAM AND GTCORGK-STRKKTS- Cor ner lot, new and compact Verandah Cot tage, fitted with cupboards, dre»ser, cook ing ranae, etc., etc. ; pries only £2:0 (503) PROaPKOT-STUKKl.near tho Ponaonby Hall, : new and ■well-flnlphoS Home, 0 roomsl, , register, Oven, tank, oto., etc.; allotment 33 x 100, fenood, price £320. (514) MOUNT BDKN, roar Mr Kelly'B-Now and well-flnlfhed Villa, gablep, bow-«lndnw, eto,etc., 9 rooms, and wath house ; allot ment 42 x 132; prloo £400 (505) PARNKlilr— Commodious Family Rofldenoe, oontalnlng 9 rooms, etc., etc., wash-house with cooper, and other conveniences, large and valuable corner allotment; price £750. (57) OTAHUHU—NIoe Voran3ah Cottaeo, 1 rooms, etc., crood oornor allotment, for £19<l. (UG) PAPAKORA—Now Hojbo and outbutldlnitp, and 37 aores real goo i land In orobard, etc., in valuable position,) aat at railway station. ONKHUNGA—SpIondId Allotment In Selwyn street; near Congregational Chapel, 93 xlO9: price only £33. (482) TDaKAU—A very Compaot Farm of 101 acres, splendid land, nearly all fonoed and snb divlded; plenty of water, a never-falling spring through the property: eood Cottage, with workshop dairy, oowshed, onthouees, &o.: good position, and only 1} mllaa from BtaMon. Prine only £350. (4221 TURANQA OBKEK (near Howlc6)-A vety oheaD little Farm of 105 aoroa. part oulti vated, plenty ot timber and water; good HOU9P. tec. (about 17 miles from Auckland). Only £225. (138) MANQKKB—A Choice little Lot of 11 acres of nnsuroa-Bed Land, nub-divided, fenoed, ana In grass: with Uottige. onthonses, &o. RAZOR BACK—Pplenald little Varm, 82 acres, large Homeatoad, and every oonvenienoe; nbont 3 miles from Pokeno Station, (184) PAPAKURA— 4. desirable Farm of 360acros. part In oaltlvatlon. plenty of water, timber, and beantif ally sheltered; good Homestead, 7 rooms, and necessary ontbulldlngE>,t;ardon, orchard, &o , and stock at valuation, It do. Blred. (3171 TUAKAU—Splendid little tot of 50 aores, nioa piece bush, pjnnjy of water; near station. BOMBAY—NIoe little Farm of 20 aoros, good Homestead. &o. Price only £220. MOUNT KDkN.—Handsome Villa Residence containing 5 Rooms, besides Pantry, Soulifry, &o.; all in first-class order, with Stable, Bnggy-honse. Cow shed, &0., &c, together with 9 acres Volcanic Land, sub divided, and a portion planted. Terms easy if desired. 501 MOUNT KDKN.—Handsome Now and Wel' flniahed VlUa. 5 Rooms, flttod with almost every convenience. Register Grates, Range, &o,; Allotment 60 x 200; main road front* age; £100. 403 MOUNT EDEN-Verandah Cottage (4 roomB). tanks, &C. with two Aores Volcanic Land, pubdivWod Into paddooks and orchard. Prioe,£soo. (480). NORTUOOT« (Tabapuna)— Snug little pro perty of 63 acre", good land, partly mv S roved; orchard. &o. Together with New iottage(ftve rooms), stable, cowshed, &0.. &o. Price, £1000. «50l)^ NORTHCOTK—aplendld Building AUotments at from £35 each. NORTHCOTK— Bplendld lots, partly improved and fenoed, at from £24 per aero. WHARffiHINK—IBO aores of very valuable- Bush-totara, purlri, kauri. &c—ln good position, cheap. (521) PAPAROA—I6O aores good Bush Land (ohoiipi. (175) WAITAKERKI-SO noren good Land, partly Improved; plenty of water, corner lot. Only £39. (511) WAIKATO-Nioe Httle Farm of 27 aores. Im proved ; good position; nice house of five rooms and out-houses. Only £240. (231) ANH NUMEROUS OTHWR PROPERTIES— Bush Lands, Improved Farms, Building Bitn". Bufllnoss Fremlaea, &c, tor Sale, on application to D. F, EVAN S, House l»nd, ahd estate Agent, QUXKNSmSBT WIXI "BSBUO").