Cast on the streets.

Tut; rain had Won pouring in a disquieting tray all day, mid was still falling in a col<i drizzle. The roads were all muddy, the cabs wore splashed up to thoir windows, the air was murky with damp. It was nine o'clock in the evening, as a poor girl, soaked through, and with her teeth chat tering from cold, stood at the door of a Louse in street, Bloomsbury. She hesitated twice before knocking. She seemed not to dare to do it; at last she rang the bell timidly. ' • The door was opened, and in the lighted passage a tidy housemaid appeared with a ■white cap and apron : " What do you want, please?" , , ~ "Is Mr Rougntou at home ?" asked the shivering girl. ~ . "He docs not receive visitors at tins °"I only want to speak a few words to him—please »nk him . • • lf l mlS ht

The door of a study was thrown open and a tall grey-headed man, with hard features, strode out, holding an evening newspaper. . . " ft's you it it ?" he saad to the unhappy eirl. "'l heard your voice. I wonder you have the effrontery^ to show your face. Bfgono this instant." "Oli, father, forgive me! mid the gsrl burst out sobbing. "is'ever again? \ou have played on that string before, miss. I have told you tliat 1 would hold no more intercourse with you, and I shall keep my word." " Lot me see my mother—-just for a minute—please." i "Your mother nud your brothers and sinters shall not he contaminated by your presence in this house for a moment. You Live chosen your fate ; keep to it." "Father, 1 am starving," faltered tho girl; but the door had already closed upon her ; and Mi Koughton walked back to liis study, while the terrified housemaid slunk downstairs.

Mr Roughton was alono in bis study. He poked his fire, sat down to continue the perusal of his newspaper, but stared instead at the Maze for about one minute; then lie moved towards thedoor, paused and turned- Lack. After another miuute he went into the passage, put on his hat, took up his umbrella, and walked out of the house. He glanced u|> and down the street, saw a female figuro in the distance, and marched after it. There was a public house at the corner, and the woman came within thn glare of its light, Mr. Roughton quickened his steps and called out s " Charlotte !" The woman turned, and Mr. lloughton saw that it was not his daughter. "I bey pardon," he said; "I took you for someone else." And he turned towards his house. If he had not hesitated for that one minute in his study, he would have overtaken the outcast who had knocked at his door. A.s it was, he walked the whole length of the street in the opposite direction •without seeing her. It was still raining hard, and the street!) were almost deserted. Several times Mr. Roughton started in pursuit nf women walking fast and alone, lmt none of them proved to be Charlotte. It wan nearly eleven o'clock before he re turned home"; he had been out nearly two hours, and the lire in his study was extinct. Mr. liooghton nevertheless stood for several minutes passing into the black grate and rubbed his hands, feeling cold. ' " I'm wet through,1' he muttered at length, lingering bin clothes. " I wonder whore she can have gone ? How thin she looked !"

Lottie Roughton had wandered away ■without knowing where who should go. She had not eaten that day : she had not a penny in her pockets. The only roof to coyer her was that of the streets, where it rained so pitilessly. The wretched girl cliosc the streets that yore darkest in her aimless trudge. She had nobody to fear, for there was not an article of 'her attire worth robbing. But she could not ro far, being utterly exhaust ed. Presently she tottered to a lamp-post and leaned against it, the water trickling along the cold iron down her sleeve. A young man came along smoking a cigar under his umbrella. He had just left a iioigiibourinfr public-house, and was jolly. He laughed : " Hullo, been swigging ?" lie s.iid to Charlotte.

"No. I'm faint," was all .she could say. "Let's have a look at you," said the jolly young man, taking her by the chin, and turning up her face to the light. " Hallo ! not bad looking ; but precious drunk— quite out of the perpendicular—eh?" " I'm not drunk," faltered Charlotte. "Tor mercy's .sake lake me somewhere where 1 can get shelter—l'm starving." " Will a glass of B. and W. set you straight !" " Anything—a crust of bread only and a little warmth—please don't leave me." The jolly young nmn laughed again : " Catch hold of my arm, my dear. Here to arc—only a few stops to go," and the two disappeared into the public-house together. It needed some argument, how e\cr, before the publican .would serve Charlotte. Like the young man, he (!.ought her disgracefully drunk. Not till lie handed her a bi'Cnlt, which she ate ravenously, would he supply her with "a weak four-pctmortli, hot, with sugar," a cordiug to the jolly young man's order. Vv'uilc she was taking this refreshment, her entertainer eyed her more closely. "Down on jour luck, eh?" he asked, with a wink. A year passed after this, and. Mr Rough* ton heard no news of his daughter ; it must be added that he did not seek to ascertain her whereabouts. If he had overtaken her on that night when, after driving her away, his conscience had twinged him, he might—well, there was no knowing what he might have done. But she had gone away, and had, probably, a i p.ie home of her own to go to. In what de graded or sinful honnts, Mr.Roughton cared not to inquird He had washed his hands of Charlotte long ago. He would not allow her name to be mentioned in his presence. If he thought about her, or yearned after Lei\ or felt his mind disquieted about what might be her lot, he did not Confess as much to a soul. But at the end of a year, Mr Roughton s wife's aunt, dying, left to Charlotte, her god-daughter, five thousand pounds. No conditions wore attached to the bequest; the money was simply to bo paid to Charlotte, free of legacy duty. Mr Rough ten's aunt had. never been told that her god-daughtor had gone astray; perhaps, if she had known how sadly the girl was in •want, she would never have made her generous bequest. But she imagined that Charlotte was settled in America with a husband, and doing well there. The five thousand pounds were intended to help her to do better only from the worldly point of view.

All Mr Roughton's anger against hi* daughter revived when she inherited her godmother's bequest, lie felt no need to pity her now. She was going to be. far happier than she deserved Not knowing, however, where to discover Charlotte, Mr Eoughton got his lawyer to put advertise msuts in the newspapers. "G. 8." was in formed that if she would apply to Mr Bosusr, of Gray's (Inn, she would hear of something to her advantage; but week's

wont by, and "C.R." did not appear. Then her full names were inserted in the adver tisement, to Mr. Itoughton's great annoy ance, for ho had to give disagreeable ex planations to some of his friends. Still, Charlotte Jloughton could not be heard of. Filially, a reward was offered to anybody who could produce proofs of "Miss Char lotte Eoughton's" death. But months wont by, and no one came forward to claim the reward. One winters night, business took Mr Roughton to call upon a friend at his club in Pall Mall. Returning home by yrnfipi Waterloo Place, he saw a, crowd in which two wompn were fighting, whilst a stalwart policeman did his best to separato them. Tho bystanders wverc ieering, and the women, as they fought, shrieked foul abuse at each other.

Such sights are not uncommon in Water loo Place, so Mr Roughton walked by with a look of disgust; bui of a sudden the ring broke, and the female combatant who was getting the worst of it reeled out, caught hold of Mr. Rough ton's arm, and sheltered herself behind him, saying, " Ob, sir, don't let that woman touch mo." Her bonnet was battered, her hair was down, her tawdry clothes were splashed with mud, and there was blood on her face, nevertheless',''as he was shaking the woman oil' him with a blunt word of angry con tempt, Mr. Roughton gave a start: (IjGood Go,! ig that you ? Charlotte ? " "Father!" echoed the girl, shrinking away from him, almost sowred already, but "her next impulse was to fly straight away ; but the policeman now caught hold of her.

"You just como along o' me, young woman."

"Leave her, please, policeman," said Mr. Roughton, hoarsely." "I'll take charge of hor she's she's ."

" I'm his daughter," said Charlotte, suddenly recovering her composure, and broke into a bitter laugh:—''Why dou't you say that I'm your child, father, whom you drove away to starve ? You recollect that night when you turned me away from your door, don't you ? I've not forgotten it —not I." Ba^j*--**.-.-.« <&y "Come away, unhappy girl," implored Mr. Roughton, but Charlotte, receding a few paces, folded her arms and once more laughed. Then the devil rose in her, and she poured out upon her father's head such a volley of hideous oaths and maledictions as it sickened him to hear. The bystanders grinned broader than ever, and Charlotte's late antagonist, reeling and ensanguined, laughed|outright, forgetiingherrccent feud, and hiccoughed :—" Give it him, Lottie." "You'd better let me take her, sir," sug gested the policeman. "She's a regular bad 'un—- we've trouble with her on this beat almost every night." ".All right, Charlie, I'll go with you," drawled Mr Roughton's daughter, surren dering herself to the policeman ; but she clenched her list at her father : " Don't you follow mo now, or I'll knock your hat off, Here, Charlie, help mo to walk straight, old man, and just tell that old chap to leave mo alone."

For all which the "old chap" followed his daughter to the police-station ; and here matters were explained to the inspector oa duty.

"She's got money, has she," remarked the ollieial. " Well, it'll help to get her buried decently, poor girl. This is not the first time by many that she's been here. To morrow when she's sober, you'll hear her cough-a nasty, hacking cough. But I beg pardon, sir. Did you say you was a relation of her?

"I'll call again to-morrow morning," answered Mr Roughton, hastily, as lie walki'd out.

" Very well, sp'; and we'll put the poor thing into a clean cell. Good-night, sir." —Truth.

Some Dismal Prophecies.

Another Assassination and a Ter rible Disaster uy Fire to ise Expected.

"ZADKIEL's Astrological Almanac" for ISB2 has just appeared in London. From the fact that several of the predictions mado by Zudkicl for tho year past were fulfilled, those for the coming year are attracting considerable attention. In his prefaco the author says: "The twelve months that have rolled away sinco we last addressed tho public have been prolific in tho manifestations of planetary influence. The most autocratic ruler in Europe, after having escaped the bullets of the woiild-bo assassins for many years, has at last fallen a victim to the bombs of the Nihilists in the year which wo foretold would be his last on earth." Turning to the predictions, the first in order is the sun's entrance into Capricornus, December 21st, 1881, at about 9 p.m., New York time, at tho ingress. " Venus and Mercury in the meridian will improve trade and commerce," yet, inas much as Saturn is the second house, we are told that "the revenue will be deficient." The position of Mars in tho fifth honse, in 7 degrees and SO minutes of New York's governing sign, Cancer, "is unfortunate for tlicatrcs and places of amusements, qnd the burning of one—probably in New York —is only too likely to take place about the 27th to the 29th of December, ISSI." Then, because Uranus is in the seventh house, and in square to Mercury, the lawyers are promised plenty of work, while there is a prospect of especially lively times in our divorce courts." "At the lunation, Mars is in the tenth house, which pre-signilies that taxation will press very heavily on the people," the taxation threatened most probably having reference to the advanced price of kinds of provisions. "There will ue much violence in the United States, and some great man will suiter degrada tion or meet with a violent death. " At the same time we arc assured that our railroads will bo prosperous. For January, 1882, we are reminded that no less than live largo planets—Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune are to retrograde at tho beginning of the year, while the square of Saturn to the sun, nearly coinciding with Neptune's stationary position on the 23rd, warns colliery managers to take precautions against accidents. "The Emperor of Germany will feel the effects of Saturn stationary on his mid heaven. Socialists will disturb his Em pire." In the latter part of February wo are informed that "great excitement will be witnessed in Now; York, and a great conflagration is likely to take place." The sun enters Aries on March 24th at about 9 p.m.; " Mars is just risen at the ingress ; the sun, Venus, and the Moon are in the tenth house; Sat,urn, Neptune, and Jupiter are in the eleventh; Mercury is in the ninth; Uranus is in the third. These positions pre-signify much excitement in the States, alarms of war, turbulence and bloodshed ; also, some vicissitudes, if not panics, in regard to railways." Moreover, we are informed that certain portions of Americv in March next will be visited by an epidemic of diphtheria or small-pox. About the middle of April "Mars will transmit the ascendant of the vernal ingress at Washington, producing great excite ment in the States." The President's posi tion will be an unenviable one. About tho 19th of April a plot will be discovered in Russia in which women will be greatly concerned, and which will go near revohi

tionizing the political system of that country. On May 17th the sun will be partially eclipsed in the sign of Taurus. "The ancients averred that a solai eclipse falling in this sign pre-signilies 'a scarcity of the fruits of the earth and corn,' and in the third decanate of the sit;n, ' pestilence, famine, and destruction of great cattle.'" Consequently a bad harvest is predicted for Ireland.

At tho entrance of the sun into Cancer, on June 21st, at about 6.15 in tho afternoon, " Mars is in the ascendant and Saturn is in the meridian; the moon and Uranus being in the second house. This will be a critical time for the Americans. War can scarcely; be avoided. The greatest excitement will be witnessed in the States. Panics and aj great fall in public securities are sure to; take place. Shocks of earthquake will be felt in some of the States. The weather of the quarter will be marked by intense heat and, dry ness." July promises to be a mo mentous month on the other side of the Atlantic. "Explosions and deeds of vio lence will be rite in London." In India there will be " much excitement and blood shed." Fortunately for- the United States, Jupiter is in Gemini—our ruling sign— "showering down fortunate influences ;" while the sojourn ok Mercury in Cancer will benefit the trade and commerce of New York City. In August the prospect is still pleasing and reassuring. "The United States," says the star-intorpreter, " is in a precarious condition, under the influence of Jupiter in Gemini; some important measures of re form in the direction of trade and comratrco may be expected." At the autumnal equi nox, September 3rd, at 8.30 o'clock inthe morning, \ the prospects remain mainly favourable. " Jupiter is in the ascendant, which prc-significs peace, prosperity and health of the Americans. The conjunction of Mercury and Mars falling in tho fifth house foreshadows, I fear, a panic of fire resulting in a dire catastrophe, probably about the middle of October. Uranus in the fourth housp indicates some great storm and cola snaps; but, as Jupiter is in tho nscendanr, less damage would be done than would otherwise be the case." Zadkiel predicts that the King of Spain is likely to be placed in a tight place in November, 1882. "The sun returns to his longitude iv the King's horoscope at midnight of No vember 28th, Madrid mean tune. The sun and Mars are nearly conjointal in the lower mer^ia'h; the moon is in the place of Saturn at birth, and in sesquiqundrate aspect with Mars. These positions pre sigoify a period of trouble and great danger near at hand. Assassination is to bo feared. In August and September, 1882, this young ' monarch is under evil directional influences, and, therefore, 'foreseeing the danger,' like the wise men spoken of in the book of Pro verbs, nhould ' hide himself' somewhat in the fashion of bis most illustrious sacred royal brother of ltussia."

England's Queen.

TRIBUTE TO HER CHARACTER,

The Dowse course of lectures, given under the auspices of the Cambridge city govern ment, the original fund being from a legacy of Thomas Dowse, was opened for the season last evening at Union Hall, with the first of a series of five lectures upon European themes, by Mr George M. Tovle, Ms subject last evening being "Victoria, Queen of England." Mr Towle began his lecture with a warm expression of gratitude to Queen Victoria for her course in preventing the recognition of tho Southern Confederacy by England in the darkest days of the civil war, when Palmerston, Hnrtington, and Gladstone favoured such recognition. For her kindly sympathy with the nation and the widow in the death of President Garfield, he saw also in her the woman, rathor than the monarch, who spoke. Taking up then the history of Victoria, Mr. Towle told of the romantic story of her birth, and of her importance from birth as the heiress of the English crown.

HBR EARLY DAYS Wore spent in quiet, and almost in poverty, far from the scenes of the court. She was kept throughout her childhood in absolute ignorance of her nearness to the throne. When fourteen, she was first made aware of her rfal position. She said as she read tho genealogical table placed whore she would find it, " I never saw this before; I see I am nearer the throne than I thoug!it." "So it if," replied her poverties'). "Well," said Victoria, "there is much-eplcndour, but there is much responsibility. Then, with tears, she said with childish fervour, "Baroness, I will be good." The event made a change in her bearing, and she was more snber and dignified ever aficr. Her education took a wider range. She was taught singing, German, French and draw ing. She rode and travelled much, and became acquainted with England. At the ago of seventeen came her falling in love with her German cousin, Prince Albert, and his with her. Their formal betrothal followed soon after. In the midst of this happy love -affair came the death of tho king and the , •'. ■

ELEVATION OF VICTORIA TO THE THRONE.

She was roused from sleep at the grey dawn of morning, and was told by the Archbishop of Canterbury, "Madam, we have come on a solemn errand. The King is dead. Your Majesty is now Queen of England." At this time, June 20, 1837, Victoria was only eighteen years old. At eleven of that forenoon she took the oaths of office. June 28, 1838, came the corona tion in the Abbey of Westminster. ■

A graphic and vivid description of the coronation ceremonies was given at length by Mr Towle, and then lie dwelt upon the affection with which the English people regarded their young sovereign. A quarrel with Albert, which threatened to separate thorn forever, was happily quieted, and thoir harmonious relations restored. She,

MADE THE PROPOSAL TO ALBERT HER SELF,

And they were married February 10, 1839, at St. James's Palace, the event being ac companied by the joyous ringing of the bells, the sunny smile of heaven, and the approving applause of the people. Mr Towle rapidly reviewed the public acts of the Queen, dwelling upon the length of her reign and the wonderful changes that had been made in England during the govern ment of two generations of statesmen and the ministries of Derby, Russell, Aberdeen, Gladstone, and "greatest ot all," said the lecturer, Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of Beacons- Weld. He spoke of the generation of literary men who welcomed her birth, and of the generation that had succeeded it. The wonderful progress made in the material sciences was emphasized, and the events of the Crimean war, the Indian mutiny, the triumphs in Africa, in Asia, and at the Berlin Congress were vividly sot forth. The lecturer also pointed oiu tho fact, sometimes forgotten, that though the Queen lms no legal power HElt INFLUENCE IS ALWAYS CONSULTED AND ALWAYS FELT. Victoria has always promptly yielded to the principle that in England it is the people who rule. She had iniluonced her legisla tion by her good sense, her purity, and her ardent desire for the cood of her people. Mr Towle. then alluded kindly to the

reminiscences of Victoria herself, and the happy domestic life they revealed.. How the tics that bound Prince to Queen, and husband to wife, were snapped asunder, leaving Victoria to twenty years of lonely widowhood-wa« graphically and touchingly told; and Mr Towle cloaed his lecture with the words: "God save, Ion? live the Queen!"

The Practical Wooer.

A Soraeryille young lady who was the re cipient of attentions from two youn? men •equally eligible, in point of good looks, social position and financial solidity, and entertaining similar feelings of friendship for both, was in a quandary as to which to choose should they propose. A friend to whom she confidpd her difficulty suggested that she put both to some test to provo the strength of thlir affection. She took the advice, and to the first who avowed his affection said :

" You tell me that you love me. How do I know that you are sincere ? What would you do to show your love ?'' "Anything," replica the ardent lover, who had a spice of romance ir. his dis position, "anything. I would go to the world's end for you ; I would endure any suffering for you; 1 would die for you, if necessary." Such ardent protestations brought the blushes to her cheeks and a thrill of happiness to her heart, and she thought that certainly no one could love her more fondly than he did. She asked, however, for a little delay before giviug him an answer to his suit.

Meantime the other proposed, and she questioned him in like manner. " Well," said he, ' I'll tell you what I would do to show my love for you : If you marry me you shall have good clothe 3to wear. I will see that you are always the owner of a handsome sealskin sacque and that your hats or bonnets are always in fashion, and I will be a faithful, loving husband to you." " But wouldn't you go to the world's end for me, or die for me, or any of that sort of thing, you know?" she asked, as she toyed with his coat buttons.

"I don't want to go the world a end," he replied; "I've got a nice, good paying business inßo3_ton;and as for dying for you, I'd rather live with yon." " Well," said she, as visions of the seal skin sacque, fashionable bonnets, etc., flashed before her mind, " I guess you can speak to pa." The practical wooer is the man for tho times.— Somerville Journal.

The Miseries of a Wet Holiday.

The domestically disposed workman liar laid his plans in a family council of man* sessions for weeks gone by, and stored hi pocket with convenient silver coin. Hi little woman has washed and mended anl trimmed till her heart quickens and her eje brightens as she thinks of the admirabe spectacle her five youngstera will forn amongst the holiday crowd. The children are awake from five o'clock, whispering p gether in bed of their schemes for donkey and sherbet, and merry-go-rounds, aid swings. They are counting over accunu lated pence and half-pence, the preniattre wisdom of some careful young woman of ten meanwhile preaching care and economy. Alas, the dash of a bitter rain laden gist against the window strikes an awful patse. What was that! Away go naked £et, under fluttering night-dresses, patte'ing towards the window. And oh 1 the disnay that bursts through the upraised bind. "Rain!" "It will soon be over. '(No, it won't; we can't go, that's all." Atthis imprudent affectation of a resigned te"per on the part of a cynic aged eight, an' epicu rean of four raises a tearful howl of protest. "They can go in a omlibus," he patheti cally argues ; "the rain can't wet thtm in a omlibus." But the jjynic, like all his tribe, -finding a consolation for bU own chagrin in rasping the sore plaices-of ethers, maintains stoutly that it is out of theques tion, and that the whole project is at si end. So high docs the argument rise tint the deputy-mother, aged ten, finds all liir arts ineffectual to quell the dispute. The laieufa are roused sooner than they intended The father mutters something like a cirse on his native climate as, after a glanceat the window, he endeavour^ to renew hi' slum bers ; and the mother quits her c<uch to soothe the clamour of the children br insin cere promises of a speedy clearig up. From that momont begins a long1 day of hope deferred, weariness, bickerug, and finally of illicit compensations wore than all ttie petty miseries they are designed to heal. Breakfast is neglected trough watching of the. clouds. In the fdlowing hour the father, pestered by beiK asked for he tfiftieth time over newspaper and pipe whether it will soon be fine, threatens to box* the next questioner's cat. Di,\ Watts's poetic aphorism as tol thi special interest shown by Satau in idli hands receives ample illustration. The dblomatic mother, in despair of any change, cpensone of her carefully stored baskets, •(tid-iwithl some of the contents sets the youigstcrs tof play at shop. But the' game has less) attractions ttian usual, and does not pre vent'furtive excursions: into the wet, from which the: wanderers are angrilf recalled only t»asseverate that "it is jni leaving oif." Incantations to the rail1 "to go away, and come again another lay," are for a time popular, but the iiifcnt hiero pliants have not the perseveranci'of Baal's priests in Elijah's time, thoughthey also cut themselves with knives mended for shop purposes—and roar when tley see the blood. Dinner is cold and crtnfortless, having been i ntended for. consumption under sunny skies and leafy lees; and after, this ineffectual diversion ha house i hold falls helplessly into chfos. The steaming _ waterspout or swolLn channel offers resistless inducements to hydraulic or embanking experiments,! and one drenched child after another is leposiicd in bed, not without slaps on the vay thither. The wornout womaa quarrel?, with her husband, rendered peevtßh by cmfinement, and he betakes himself to the J*lly Dragon hard by, leaving mother and laughter to nag at each other. Late at night he returns, with lightened purse_ and mudiled brains, to awake next morning indispised, or per haps incapacitated, for work.-Oliver M. Wavcrtrcc, in Good Words. \ ■

Printed and Published by the ProF*<?J orv£«2ss Brett, of Symonds-atreet, at Ma Wg** Printing Office, Wj-naham-atreet, id the Pro vince of Auckland, New Zealandw^a H' c'~ Saturday, Febboabs i, 1882

STAR SATURDAY

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JWT 0 T I' C E. To Owners, Occupiers ok Vakehquses, Shops. Schools, Dwehjnos, 0? the City and Suburbs op Auckland. Mr George Wilson, Solo Conraotor to the City Council for Emptying Cloiots, Cesspits. Supplying Barth, Removing Rulbish,- &c, has this day mnde arrangements Aitli Thomas Slater, Lessee of City Market to Icep the Books for said Contract and receive al Monoys and Orders. AH Accounts must be paid the first week of each month (unless speiially arranged for). Any account remaining unpaid, notice will be given to the Inspector of ?fufsancea. No more work doneruntil such accomts are paid. Central Depot for receivinf Moiuy and Orders: Weighbridge Office, City Mariet, from 9 to 5. GEORC~ WILSON. Witness: A. BtoklaNd. Auckland, 2nd fanuary, 1882. NJ3.—For all Casual Boxes <ie money must accompany the order.or it will ntf be attended to.



H^ HU G E^s . lAMILY GROCER & TEA DX \JM& ' DRAPfR, HOSIKR, AND HABERDASHTTO Ju/crnoN of Union and WellingtoFy Streets. , , ~ .; GooaJ of beat quality at modorata prices. M nice assortment of China and EarthenwaK DB4.PERY, MILLINERY, 8e LAIW' AND CHILDBEN'S-UKDERCIiOTIfINfIf, H. FOUNTAIN, Pousoiray Road, M is. no* offering the above at lowest tows pbioiS pob cash, and; respectfully solicitsi i contijuanco of the patronage of hia numerous oustonera. . -,!? Fi. G. S I N G L XT OK . ELECTRO-PLATKB, .■-:•• ' cildbk, juwkllkr, and silversmith, ft Hav£g. at considerable expense, fitted uplhwe Commodious Premises, situate next the coroS of votobu and HopaoK-STRicm, Auckland, is new prepared to execute all kinds of ElectrS platpg. Gilding, and Repairing. Ladies can havt their Old Jewellery renovated arid' mads equal to new. All, kinds of Jewellery aMfl WatJhea repaired at thexowKOT batks. • V.i.S. would oall the attention of the Publk to h« Stock of New Goods, and an inspection hf his Vindow is respectfully invited. - -"r1 "1 Thingof Beauty is a Joy for Ever!"- As theFeßtivo Season is approaching, and weSS 100 l forward to meeting "Our Uncles. Onr Coisina, and Our Aunts,'' nothing at thesei*£ uniins looks nicer than a well-spread table -but if jour Cruets, Spoons, and Forks are ahabbri h wfl spoil the effect; bo if your Plate want! re. noiating or plating, F.G.S. is prepared" to dfl thctn at the following reasonable rates:— " '<" liK-PLATINU. lable and Dessert Spoons and Forks, VS/Ooz. 7ea Spoons, 8/dozen . r^-v^ m fait and Mustard Spoons, 6/dozen - r Cruets, from 5 to 12/6 each Salvers, Cake Baskets, and Side Dishes at reasonable rates, according to size* Albert Chains, 2/; Watch Cases, W Cornet Mouth-pieces, from 1/6 Brooches, V; Earrings, 1/per pair. '~ . . „ BK-OItDINO. Sbtrt fttt^ Cha^.S/6^: Brooches, from 2/ each Earrings. 2/pair: Rings,2/each. ■ A liberal allowance to the Trade. ' J.G.S. has a Stock of Spectacles alwara *,o Abrive, a Splendid Assortment ot the B&t I Eleotro-plated Ware, consisting of Spoons/ Forks. Crnetß, Salvers.&o.. &cT^T, IIHE NEW REMEDY FOR ASTHM^ . DIFFICULTY OFBRBATHING.&o,, "EUPHORBIA PILULIFERi;1' <A NATIVB PWNT OK QUEENSLAND), V A HOST VALUABLE REMED E D S"o' N S SYRUP OF HYPOPHOSPHITES," WITH '' EUPHORBIA PILULIFERA," ob Asthma, Chbonio Bronchitis. CbtrtiflSi HOARSEN'EBS, TIOHTOTiBS OF THE OHKffri Incipient Conscmption, &o. The advantage ot this preparation is the com bination of the expectorant qualities Of Uie Euphorbia Pilulifera with the repußttve pro perties of the Hypophosphites so nmVereally oßteemed.for their power to recoup Cio waste and loss of tone attendant upon this, class at complaints. The proprietor can, with 'm&sßU}e, recommend this chemical combinationjaltJiougli it has not been made publicly known, the sate" Is considerable and daily increasing; bother with the voluntary testimony from Unto to time to the marked benefit derived from to dsdi induces greater publicity. Theßyrupisagreeabletotlie taste, and may be taken by tho moat fastidious. In Bottles at 3s. "to.- •' ■ i J. ED SON, MEDICAL HALI,, QITEEN'gTBEKT. AgQKlAyti.* '^'j WALTER' B A TUB, . KXBEB FAB 3, ". V N D B R TAKER i Of 20 years'experience. Funerals conducted with dispatch, and, atprico3todefyoompetiaoii. ~ L-—: ——J^ 1 n LANVILLE & T7LLYETT, VI • ■" „ ■ I TEA DEALERS I , >llj ■ ■■ I AND. I FAMILY GRO ; CE,|||i;:;; I 114, QUEEN STaBiETi j \, b ') a (Oppositb the Utfios^B>wtj.., , , j ' AUCKLAND.. r '"•■•V ~;' I NEW SEASQN?S,TEAS, I .JlwhltßkcommbndkiJ, , .■....■ .'- ■ ii'—■—»-*■***— WIZARD Oth; la a dtetitoyigdaj name, given by Prank W^bWO W hia Medicine, which is compoßW ol various Vegetable Oils, Healing Gums, Bare Balsams, Boots, Barka-and Herbs, (found only on the Great JUnsr ican Continpnt,) forming the Chemioftl Compound univeraalQ' kjaoWtt #• "Weston's Wizard OiLa This Medicine was first introduced, by Prank Weston, to tho Außtralliß Public in 1864, and the wonderful ana mysterious influence it exhibited"» stopping the most excruciating Patofli Aches and Infirmities, in a few dayß after its use is well known. fl»JgaP <?' ulous power in rising the Bed*jclHen, Crippled3heumatic;WeuralffliwiJ9W- Ing the system of all suffetinjrftPlll pain, inflammation and :; wOMSJBS. curing in a few days the1 $MBG*w2 na diseases of months and jeeara gjTJ^[ instantaneous Ease imd C^iJHortmau ordinary pains and acheSi*it'iermier- n.U or external, all (SMWBipß,.:Bpaalttß, ..•9nge3tioDs,&c, is well ,knoWßt .;-j.l■,-... Weston's Wizard Oil lias thie power to distribute itself over every PftW or tao body internally as- Well aßextern ally, curing the most inveterate cases if tumors, ulcers, sorofula',:..dise46e<l Hvp'r. niles. swellings, wounds, otc.,aw.