A KNAVE UNMASKED.

The Kcv. Philip Worthiman, M.A., of Oxon, was in love. How it began was in -this wise, .lust opposite the pulpit in the middle aislo, on tlfe ri^'ht hand side as you entered, was tho family pow of Samuel Blandford, Esq., and at the corner of the pew, next the dour, sat Ellen Blandford, with her tender eyes attentively fixed on the young and handsome preacher. Mr Worthiman observed her; he was pleased with her constant attendance, her patient attention, her approbation ami sympathy. She seemed to inspire him with fresh ardour each Sabbath; for when anything occurred to prevent her attendance in the morning or afternoon service, there seemed some thing gone from his heart, and he was less eloquent ttmn usual. Mr Worthiman felt tha,t this was wrong: and it was in ana lysing his feelings that ho made the dis covery that ha was—in love ! Then, form ing a more intimate acquaintance with the Blaudfords, and roidnig Ellen's heart through tho pure transparency of her con versation, Mr Worthiman loved her more deeply than before, and to his alarm he found that his heart was irretrievably hers.

Some panon* may blame the clergyman for falling in love from tlic pulpit. Let them rellect that the best clergymen aro human. Others, more charitable, may only ha sur prised that he, being a single man, and Ellen a worthy trill, did not proposo t» marry her tttouce. Lot mv explain. Mr Worthiman had not foolishly resolved never to many, hu had long since ma le up his mind to select for hs wife some poor girl, who had nothing but a whole heart to bring her hus band. A minister, he thought, of all men, should avoid the imputation of marrying for uny worldly advantage, and when he Was lold that by the death of a rich uncle, whose favourite she was, Ellen had o mie into a for tune of live thousand pounds, ho said tn himself—'She can never be my wife!' So two years pnaed, and he dill preached from his pulpit to the fair maiden, who listened with melting upturned eyes, and who never mispeotcd hisscerot love. Itut an unexpected oceuroncfitroubled the serenity of thcyoung ••li'r-jyman's heart. A stranger, named Britton, took up his residence in Sprintley, and became a constant attendant at churcfi. Hj was for a long time a subject of much gossiping conversation, and everybody ap peared to like him except the clergyman. And tbe'elergyman might be prejudiced ; for anybody might sen that the stranger was very attentive to Ellen Blandford,and that .she seemed pleased with his addresses. He and the clergyman had met on several occa sions, and the latter, whose perception of human character was certainly keen,became wore lirmly impressed,at each meeting, with the convicion that Mr Britton was un worthy of Ellen. Yet ho accused himself of selfishness and endeavoured to thinkbetter of his rival. It was to no purpose : and now, seeing Ellen's happiness at Htake, ho was plunged into despair. It was very natural, then, that the clergyman should regret his resolution not to marry Ellen because she happened to possess live thousand pounds, and that he should think seriously of re trieving his error. 'I may yet "Main hci hand,' raid he to himself, 'for she cannot love him.'

It was ono evening in the month nf June —a warm soft, cjtiict evening, and the dim twilight ilung its sweet, melancholy in- Huetice over the yonni; preacher's heart. He took his hat, and sauntered slowly in the direction of Mr Ulandford's house. He i Kissed the garden, and through Ihe luxuriant irancliLM of the trees which fringed the road lloatcd sounds of human voices, and fell gently upon Inn ear. (Jentle and low were the words that were spoken, but they sent a sharp pang into the clergyman's heart, for he recognised the llute-lihe tones of Ellen, who was not alone. The other voice was Uritton's. He turned hastily away ; but inadvertantly he had heard enough — this man was seeking the hand of Ellen—and Ellen had be-towed it on him ! On the following morning Mr Worthiman was paler than usual, and there was a sadness in his smilo which his friends couldnotunderstand. That day's meditation was father to his dis course the next Sabbath, which had for its subject " Resignation," and which was so full of the touching eloqucuce for which he was distinguished — so warm in the out pourings of a suffering hut patient spirit— that the tender, upturned eyes of Ellen Blanfdord' were dim with glistening tears, and whcn,at the close of his sermon,he said, in a deep, agitated tone, ' Let sorrowing souls pray God for resignation,'and lifted up his voice in earnest prayer, the sympathis ing girl bowed down her face and sobbed. Some threo months after Mr Worthiman was sitting in his study when a visitor was unnoiiuccd. It was Mr John lirittou.

' I have como to engage your services,' said he, smiling. The preacher turned pale. ' Our marringo' ho coutinucd—' I moan that of dear ID lien and myself—is fixed for Thursday week, and yon will place us both under obligation if you can make it conve nient to attend that day.' ' So soon ?' murmured Mr Worthiman, making a mighty efl'ort to be calm. ' Why, since the marriage contract is made, the sooner it is fulfilled the Letter, I think,'replied Mr Britton. 'Perhaps so,1 said Mr Worthhnan, thoughtfully; 'but,' he added, fixing his searching eyes on Button's lace, 'Mi>sEllea has known you only a few months.' ' Mr Britton changed colour, and appeared ill at ease, as he replied, with a feeblo attempt at humour— ' I take advantage of that; for you know she might grow weary of me if our marriage ■was delayed too long.' After the aspiring bridegroom had gone, the young clertymau was pluDgcd in deep thought. Ho paced his room nervously then, to cool his fevered brow, sought the open aii. Long and painful was the struggle in his heart. At length he exclaimed fer vently—' I will forget self. I will do my duty. I will he strong. Shall my voice ■betroy emotion, when I pronounce the fatal -words which shall make her his wife.' But Mr "Worihiman was troubled with anxiety. Ho suspected the man's sincerity, and communicated it to Mr Blandford.

' Why, to be sure,' said Mr Blandford •it has never entered my head that there could be any deception. Mr Britton cer tainly appears respectable, and as for his property--' 'That is nothing. But is he a man of integrity ? Is he a man of principle ? We sec nothing in him to raise a doubt touching his moral character, it is true : but what has been his past career ? Do not blame me for the interest I take in your daughter's future happiness,' he added, with feeline; ♦where the welfare of the young and vir tuous is at stake, we cannot be too cau tious.'

Mr Blandford was plunged in thought. He ■was not convinced that he had anything to fear; but the reflection that there was a possibility of deception startled his natu rally peaceful iniud, Thanking Mr Worthi man for his suggestion, he asked his advice with regard to what he ought to do. 'If youlike,'replied the clergyman, 'you can say to Mr Britton it is for my Istisfac tion tint you propose referring to respect able persons in my name for testimony con

corning his character. Ah, herecomes Mr Button himself. If you would rather, I will speak to him myself.' ' Do, do,' said Mr Blandford who shrank from the disagreeable duty. Mr Britton entered, polite and smiling. Mr Blaudford received him cordially ; t.he minister was reserved and serious. With ail possible dilicacy, Mr Worthiman ad dressed Mr Britton on the subject he had opened to Mr Blandford's consideration. ' Do I understand you ?' asked Mr Britton, visibly changing countenance ' you desire reference for my character ? Ah, certainly —a mere form,' he added carelessly ;' I wonder I never thought of the thing before.'

Mr Hritton took from his pocket a card, on which ho wrote several names. This he appeared about to give to Mr Blandford, when, seeming to change his mind, lie produced another card on which he wrote in the same manner, murmuring ' 1 think I will write the names more distinctly.' He then handed the card last written upon to his intended faiher-in-law, and placed the other in his pocket book. ' Here you have six of the moat IC^pect iible men in the town of W , where I was born and brought up, and where I have li\ ed nearly all my life. You can refer to cither, or nil of them.' And with an uir of indifference, which struck the minister and Mr Blandford differently, he walked out of room.

' It is 11=11 expected,' said Mr Blandford ; lif there Ims been anything wrong in the matter he would have been less ready to give nil those rcferei ees. It will be v mere faice tn make u=e of tliem at all.' ' Jlut would it not be a satisfaction to re ceive from cither of these men assurance of your son-in-law's integrity? I can tet no tliiniT farcical in that.' 'True—true !' 'And besides, what will Mr Britton think now you do not wiite ? \\ ill he not be apt to consider me meanly suspicious, instead of honestly cautious '!' ' Yon have deceived me,' paid Mr Bland ford ;'I will write to SirJ. F. Slone to day.'

As Mr Worthiman left the house, he saw Ellen and her lover standing together under the porch. He spoke to them and passed on, observing as he did so, that a slight blush suffused Ellen's cheeks, and that Britton regarded him with a triumphant smile. Almost any other man would not have en tertained a doubt touching the character of Mr Bhitulford'a son-in-law, after witnessing tin; apparently frank manner in which he offered to refer for testimony in his favour to the iirincip.il men in tho town where he was brought up. Yet the young clergyman was not satieiied. The happiness of her he loved was at stake, and he could not see her married to one of whose honour and in tegrity he hnd no certain proof. He return ed home full of perplexity and distracting doubts.

Three days after Mr Blandford and the minister met again. The former produced a letter with an air of satisfaction. It was from W , and signed hv J. F. Stone Itfirt. Wortliinianread.it. His hand trem bled, and the colour left hits cheek.

" You are satislicd now, I trust t

' This gentleman certaiuly speaks in the hiuhest terms of Mr JJritton,' replied the minister; ' certainly oiie could expect no stronger commendation.' Mr Jilandford placed the letter in his pocket, and commenced talking on another subject, in if anxious that this should not be meutioned again, a lthough Air Worthinian was conscious of having done nothing which he did uot deem it his duty to do, he was afraid that Ellen and her father might not rightly view his motives. Even now—after neeing Sir J. F. Stone's certificate—he wan not satisfied; but such was his repugnance ngain to give utterance to doubts, that he scrupulously held his peace. The reader will probably pronounce Mr Worthiman to be very unreasonable. He, himself, was afraid that such wan the case. But the style of enlogy in which Sir J. P. Stone spoke of Mr Britton did not appear to him at all characteristic of a gentleman, and now, more than ever.did he fear that some decep tion was practised. So strongly indeed was lie impressed with this idea, that he could not rest until ho had written a letter to tho postmaster of W . Two days passed. On the morning; of tbe third a letter was received by Mr Worlhinian. He was at the breakfast table when it was handed to him, and more than one of his friends observed the sudden chance of bis countenance as he tore it open. lie read as follows :—' In reply to your enquiry I have only to cay that there is no such person as Sir J. F. Stone living in W , and I never heard the name until a few days since, when a letter, superscribed with it, came to this P.O., and was taken out by another person. As for the man 1 Britton, I believe, there was formerly such a person at the \V Hotel, but I know nothing definite concerning him.—Your humble servant, THOMAS SNOW, postmaster.' Mr Worthi man arose from the table. Bis friends noticed his abrupt movement and his agitated manner. Tolling them hurriedly that he was called upon to leave town that morning.he ordered his chaise, adding that he might hot return within a day or two, Half an hour later he was driving rapidly through the village. It was Tuesday morning. Mr Worthiman had a journey of more than a hundred miles before him. All the morning he travelled in his chaise, but after dinner, leaving the horee and vehicle at an hotel, he betook himself to the railroad, and con tinued h;s journey by express. It was about sunset when the clergyman arrived in W—. Having deposited his carpet-bag at the hotel, he proceeded without delay to the post ollice—introduced himself to Mr Snow, and told him his business. ' There is no baronet iv W , I'm sure,' said Mr Snow.

'And are any of these names familiar to you ?' Mr Worthiman showed him the list of names Britton had written on tho card ho gave Mr Blnndford, ' No, sir, there are no such men in W—. But I have heard, of the names before.' • Well ?' 'The person who took the letter ad dressed to "Stone," asked for letters for all these names.'

Mr Worthiman now felt sure that he saw through the whole trick. ' And who is this person V ' His name is Hubble. He is the horse dealer or something of the sort.' ' And where is he to be found?'

1 Ho stops at the W— Hotel.' Having put a few more questions con cerning Britton and Hubble, Ihe horse dealer, Mr Worthiman returned to the hotel. Hubble was not in; nor did lie make his appearance until late in the evening.' But such was the clergyman's anxiety to see him that ho sat up to await his return. It was past midnight when a showily-dressed man was introduced to him as Mr Hubble. That he had been toofreely indulging in strong drink was evident enough from his incoherent and excited manner, but this circumstance so far favoured the clergyman's purpose, as to render it a perfectly easy matter to ascer tain every particular of Britton's former life. TJiese particulars showed the fellow to be a thorough knave. The letters res pecting his character were also forged by Hubble ; but what was of most importance was the fact that Brittou was a married man, He had married, and afterwards

deserted, the daughter of a Dr Martin of L—, whoso address Worthiman imme diately procured, Little did th« clergyman sleep that night. The important secrets which the incbri itod horse-dealer had divclosed to him occupied his mind ; and he formed his plans for the following day. Mr Worthiman arose at dawn, took un early breakfasr, and set out for L in the first morning train. He was immediately on his arrival directed to the house he sought, and learned, from, the injured man himself, allthe particulars of Britton's desertion of his wife.

In the meanwhile, nobody in Springley suspected the object of the clergyman's journey, and no one knew whither he had

gone. Mr Britton, rejoicing in the fancied success of his deception, waited anxiously for the arrival of his wedding day. The preparations for the wedding were made, the guests were invited, and as the time drew near, the bride was dressed for the occasion. The bridal procession *t*rted and arrived at the church, but the clergy man was absent. He was expected every moment, so the party waited, .somewhat im patiently, in the ves'ry. But Ellen ex prcsHcd no regrets. The truth is, she had long suspected that the minister loved her, ami there was a tumult in her heart which I will not attempt to describe. I need only add—she hoped the minister would not come ! Her father withdrew, but in a few moments he returned, saying that >.s Mr Worthiman wasstill absent, it was thought best tbe ceremony should be performed by an old clergyman, a friend of the minister's who was one of the guests, and v magis trate. Ellen trembled violently; but she could not object. ' At leatt, thought she, 'Mr Worthiman will not marry us-I am ready!'

The bridegroom and bride, accompanied by the bridesmaids and grooras-men, entered tl'ia church, where the guesta were as sembled, and took their places. Ellen was pa'c and agitated. She appeared to shrink from the man whose wife she was to become. Britton, meanwhile, his lips compressed with an expression of deter mination and triumph, looked intently at the clergyman. The latter hesitating to begin the ceremony, Britton manifested his impatience, and before the reverend g< ntle man had read a sentence, two vehicles rolled up to the door, and Mr Worthiman made his appearance. Britton frowned at the interruption; he dreaded another lecture on wedlock. Ellen turned very pale. Mr Worthiman advanced towards the clergyman. ' Have you married them ?' he asked in a husky voice* ' If you had come two minutes later, I should have answered yes.' ' Then I have arrived in time. You wiil allow me, sir, to lake your place.' Every eye was fixed on the haggard face and strangely gleaming eyes of the young minister.

' John Britton,' said he, in a deep, earnest voice, 'is it your intention to make this woman your wife.' Britton bowed his head.

'Then it is your intention to perjure yourself before Cod and man.' There was a movement of surprise and wonder amongst the guests. Britton be came livid with rage aud apprehension. The bride clasped her hands, fixed her eyes intently on the clergyman, and stood white and motionless as a marble statue.

' Sir,' Baid Mr Bland ford, anxiously, 'do you know what you say ?' ' I know I speak the truth. Here are my witnesses.' Dr. Martin stepped fonvard. Britton re coiled with a look of rage and coiißtema tion.

' Do you know me, villain?' demanded the doctor; 'lam Samuel Martin—the father of your injured wife !' ' It is false !' muttered Britton. hoarsely ; ' take the madman away.'

The doctor sneered, raised his hand, and a stout man advanced through the crowd of disconcerted and amazed guests. ' Mr Britton,' said he, ' we know each other, and you ./ill not doubi my authority. It is my duty to arrest you.'

'Sir,' muttered Britton, 'of what ara I accused ?'

' Forgery !' replied the officer. Britton's countenance fell j he .nade no resistance. And while the .company broke up in confusion, and the bride was fainting in the hands of her maids, the oflicer and his assistant conveyed their prisoner to the nearest public-house, to keep him until morning.. This exciting event made quite a stir in Springier. Britton was suddenly remem bered to have been a knayuh-looking fellow, Ellen BlandLrd waS pitied, and the clergy man lionised.

It was several weeks before Ellen again appeared in her accustomed placu on the Sabbath, for a lingering fever had hem the result of the suffering blic had undergone. At length she entered the church with her father—thin and pnlc, but no less beautiful than formerly. As Mr Worthiman, having ascended the pulpit, cast his eye in the direction of Mr Blandford's pew, and saw Ellen's sad.sweet face turned towards him, he felt a thrill of pleasure strangely mixed with paio. Many were the sentiments in his sermon addressed to her that day ; words of advice and consolation,which none could understand as Well as she, and for which she felt truly grateful. Mr "Worthiman was now a constant visitor at the house of Mrßlandford, where he was ever a welcome guest. He had taken it upou himself to console Ellen; and had you seen the bloom returning to her cheek, and the light-of happiness to her eye, you would have said he succeeeded well.

One afternoon Mr AVorthiman received a copy of the L ' Gazette,1 from which he learned that Button had been convicted of, forgery,and sentenced to seven years' trans portation, and his injured wife had ended her earthly sorrows within half an hour after he had been condemned. Such was ■the sad intelligence the clergyman had to convey that evening to Ellen Blandford. A few months after the clergyman was wedded to one every way worthy to become a clergyman's wife ; and if ever a person suspected that he married Ellen for her money,that person must have been speedily convinced to the contrary, by the use Mr Worthiman made of it in doing good.

The Temple of Solomon.

The most striking feature of tbo Temple, in a physical sense, was its extraordinary splendour. The walls were faced within with cedar, richly carved ; the ceiling was of finvood; Imt every part was overlaid with gold, each ten c\ibi s high, with outstretched wings spreading from wall to wall, and meeting in the centre. A miignificer.t veil, of blue, and purple, and crimson, and fine linen, with cherubim] worked upon it, divi. ded the Holy of Holies from the Holy Place, and this was suspended from golden chains. Cherubim, and pnlin trees, and open flowers, blaziug with gold, to be seen in all parts of the building ; the altar, the table of show bread, the lamps, the ten candlesticks, the hundred basins, and the various sacrificial vessels were fashioned out of the solid metal; and in many places the walls were garnished with precious stones.

THE LAY OF THE PAMPERED MENIAL

(WRITTEN BY JOHN JKAMES.)

Matilder Harm! Matilder Harm! My 'art is hall thy hone; But love himpares tho happytitei And I'm but skin and bone. I seed yer in tho servingt's 'all; When jiat about to dine ; Both 'cart and stomig then did wow Ono da to kori thee mine.

But 'orty Tomas sort thy 'and Whoso perkisits was i; And you've gone hin tho " public " line And left me ear to si! Ho! Yen thou servest hin the bar,

Hin helegant hooray, Thou littel nose ow sleeplis nitca

And greet as tumd me gra 1 But yen thy 'usban (Tomas) servs; And asks me wot I'll 'aye; I glairs, and sez a pint of here, Hut should precfurr the grave. My carves is nowniglikted quite, I ham a halter'd maun ; Ho 1 hlf you new this ' buzzttn's bangs', Youd veep, Matilder Harm.

Better Thoughts for Quiet Moments.

A TERRIBLE TEST.

Separate upon the folded page Of myth or marvel, sad or glad; The rest that gave the Lord to thee, And thee to us, O Galahad! "Found pure in deed and word and thought," The creature of our dream and guess, The vision of the brain thou art, The eidolon of holiness. Man with the power of the God, Man with the weaknesses of men. Whose lip the Sangrcal leaned to feed, " Whose strength was as the strength of ten."

Wo read—and smile ; no manthou wast; No human pulses thine can be; With downcast eyeß we read—and sigh; So terrible is purity !

0 fairest legend of the years, With folded wings, bo. silently 1 0 flower of knighthood, yield your place To one who comes from Galilee!

To wounded feet that shrink and bleed, But press and climb the narrow way— The same old way our own must Step, Forever, yesterday, to-day. For soul can be what soul hath been. And feet can tread where feet have trod Enough to know that once the clay Hath worn the features of the God.

He who receives a favour should never forget it; he who bestows it .should never remember it.

A just God will subject no man to any other tkan a fair trial, and a wise God wilt know how to make the trial fair for us all.

There is no stronger evidence of the divine origin and nature of the human soul than this that is found in the purity and relinement and deathlessness of human love. It is in every-day life that we find the duty of being weak when we would like to be strong, and that we find how much more strength it takes to be strong. We mint be quiet when we want to be active, and silent when we want to speak out; we must just wait, and do nothing but wait, when it seems that unless we do something more than wait we shall die.

Young Folks Column.

What vrill prevent cold feet?— Wear wooden legs. Wh»t is the moat polite profession?— Civil engineen. What waa the finest idea last season ?— Yonr eye, dear, What two letters make a county in Eng land ';-SX (Essex). What flowers would make the best piano ? —Rope would (rosewood). The- boy who waa kept after school for bad orthography said he was spellbound. A precocious* boy of six years, listenirg wearily to a long-winded tale related by. a prosy relative, took advantage of * short pause to say, shyly, "I wish that story had been brought out in cumbers." What is that which you never have and often grve up ?—A conundrum. What fault is % virtue to a sea captain ? —Recklessness { wrecklessness.) Why does a sculptor suffer a dreadful tate ?—He makes faces and busts.

Why is a aide-saddle like aquart measure ! It holds a gal on (gallon.) Reasonable Indulgence.—ln an adver tisement for a young gentleman who left his parents, it was stated, that "if Master Jacky will return to his disconsolate parents, he shall be no more pat upon by his sister, and shall be allowed to sweeten his own tea," ?

A little fellow lately asked his parents to take him to church with them. Thty eaid he must wait until he was older. " Well," was the shrewd suggestion in response, " you'd better take me now, for when I get bigger I may not want to go." Elementary Anatomy.—Curiously inno cent notions of anatomy ate peculiar to children, The following fragment comes from "Fun's" nursery: Harry to Cissy, who is nursing her doll: " Oh, Cis, l'«e dot such a pain !" Cissy sympathetically: "Poor dear! Is it where the china joiu» the saw-dust ?" Harry, illustrating: "Ho, Cis, it's where the squeak comes.!'

Dr. Lenz on the Sahara.

Is a paper which Dr Oscar Lenz contri butes to the " Zeitschrift"'of the Berlin Geographical SocietVthe gives an authentic account of the results of his journey across the Sahara, from Tanga to Timbuktu, and thence to Senegainb'a. The northern part of the Sahara is a plateau 400 metres high, consisting of horiozontal Devonian strata which contaia numerous fossils. On May 15th Dr Lenz crossed the moving sand dunes of Igidi, a wide tract, where he ob served the interesting phenomena of musi cal sand, a sound like that of a trumpet being produced by the friction of the small frain'j of quartz. But amidst these moving unes it is not uncommon to find some grazing places for camels, as well as flocks of gazelles and antelopes. At El Eglab Dr Lenz foand granite and porphyry, and was fortunate enough to have ram. Thence the character of the desert becomes more varied, the route crossing sometimes sandy and sometimes stony tracts of sand dunes, with several dry river beds running east and west between them. On May 29 he reached the salt works of Taudcni, and visited the ruins of a very ancient town, where nume rous stone implements have been (found. Here he crossed a depression in the desert only 145 to 170 metre, high, while the remainder of the desert usually reaches as much as 250 to 300 metres above the sea level; and he remarks that throughout hi ionrney he did not meet with depressions below' the sea level. The schemes fo r Hooding the Sahara are therefoic hopelesß and misleadm?.

A stuck-up thing.—A showbill. A friend in deed.—A lawyer. Polish adventurers.—Arctic explorers. The original wire-pullers.—lrish harpers. Pastime for Anthropologists.—A scull ing match. ■

Printed and Published by the ProTir'Rtor.HKNßP Bhbtt, of Symonds-street, at his General Printing Office, Wyndham-street, in the Plfl* vinceor Auckland, New Zealand. I . Saturday, April 22,1882. .\

STAR SATURDAY. SUPPLEMENT, APRIL 22, 1882.

4



Gazette Notification., .| [Extract from New Zealand GazeUe,'-WsEi March, 1882.] ■•jUwPe A ITERATIONS AND ADDITimflKi J3k T«> TUB 80ALE OB" FAKES'wfflii CUARfUM IN KORCtf ON THE NKW zS! LAND EAILWAITa. A la accordance with the By-laws for tte'lßpi 55«alavd hallways, fixed by Orders in CoSaßp dated the 6th January, 1881. and the 22ndISEii' tember, 1881, thsful'owlng scale of ohargwfJV the purposes specified below is hereby flnfflD In lieu or in addition to that at present Ib fenHE and such scale uhall come into force from ijS ; after the IDth April, 1882. PART I -PASSENGERS. <.;"# ■ ' Travellers' annual Tiokim. w||| Travellers' Annual Tickets, available ovwMmH whole of the New Zealand railways tor oneiißß from date of issue, will bo charged £50. ' '|3 PART IV.-LOCAL KATES. 7|jl Auckland Bkction. . | Passenger Rates. Ist Clues 2nd CttMS'i. s. d. a. d. g. d. ;lnH Auckland .Morningslde 10 16 0 9 IwH The rat» for freight of goods, Qanes A\ MbH D, x, between Auckland and OnehtumJMßH hereby cancelled. * HEWNEVILtK TIMBKR SttPl! '!! Loading kauri loj<9 at Heloneville tlmbet gllit: 1 will be charged 4Jd par 100 superficial feet. V;| PART V.—THROUGH RATEB.I Auckland Suction. Tberates for river traffic are hereby c&nodjijraH Goodß of Clawes A, B, C, It, IS, betwuahifljlMß hun*a und Auckland, will be oharcad ttnvofl ton a» follows:— w .' Between Auckland and" 4,8,0,jj, j^" * Onehunga Town .. .. (' g ife Oneonngn. Wharf .. ..53 If ■ The rate to the wharf inclndes charm.»«.' ' whar/age and dellverr to ships in trnoSSl. k I eide the railway wharf. Ships'goods fey^JHt, {:f or meaauramont according to Bhlpß* bfilot 153^ ' The following rat G 3 will b3 charfrai itn» ton on goods, Classes A,B,O.D,B°v<Sffi ' between Auokiand and Gnehuuga iiui th? BtatioriH B'aterl below:- *»(W.B». : r &taUon. i B c d|e Ohinewai _ _ .". 33/118/8 SS'9 17* wit ««ntly 36/0 ;»/4 a^j^'ffi-1 'Vil Taupiri .. „ ..37/8 3VB 23/1/17/9 fi, 4 Nuaruawahia .. ..39/0 33/0 ]7fflX Ja Pnkete «0/U m $w wj w& si Hamilton JuncUon ■.. «/0 31/0 Sl/J bJo 1^ Ij Hamilton .. „ ..40/6 31/5 Sl/1 18,'J U/j. Kjfenhia 13/0 38/6 2fti) Jft* lj* 1 P b»uPo 48/0 38/3 »«|ffl'«&•■■■■« Lak« K<»ad _ .. 18/0 39/0 23fl Kfl Jm J ro! o 47/0 39/10 m TeAwamutn .. .. 1&0 «%8 pjp PART VII. , j Classification ok Goods. Furniture, loose in tacking, matting; straw bands, partially or wholly exposed. Rate and a quarter. Special goods. Owners' risk ... ,C3»8r.4». ltabbits, dead, at owners' risk .. ! ,; Class C. PART Vni.-WHARVBS.: Auckland Section, ONKnimai'Wharves; TVharfage Hafts. ' . ', ■ « a- Cattle and horses, per head .. «ii «. 0- «j sheep, pißa, and goats, per head .... 01" i Boucdusr, guano, and artlflolai ffitnarei " (imported), conveyoa by rail „ ' \i]ftee.- ! Other goods, olbfs X, par ton „ .. ~1 fi. ~: Timber. Class X, carried by railway, w cer 100 ft et superficial and equlwlent.. £2 Timbbr. Ule.«K. not carried by raUny.. 11l Gnoasof ClasseaL, N,P, per ton _ ~ 1 lh~ '■ Kstivecoal _; »Iwe. ; Shelly undressed bnildlng Btona, or shingle, per ton .. _ 0 fi« . Wool.'sbeepskinsani rabbitsklns, in bales notovrriewt, perbale .. _ ~0 & Flax.in'ba!eanotover2owt, perbila _ 0:S" Four-wheel vehicles, each .. „ ... 5.,0 i: Two wh?el vehiolea, eaoh ~ _■" • ... t'.WP" All other goods, weight or mtuttircmontat ~ \ ;',,,) tho option of th« wharfinger, pet ton,, t ""'&■"' <00-,;n.110n iron tanis, each .. .. ,v l'o> ~ PoQlryof all kinds, per head .. ..0 1 MiDimumchatnea In all cases .. -^ 0 By Soodßiraushfpoed into other crahfordeepatoi to places outside the Munukau Hesds bom, ships lying alooßMdethe wharves will be snU* - ject t-o full wharfage charges. j Goods transhipped Into other craft for de» 1 patoh to places within the MannJnn Heads 1 trora shipß lying ftJonwide the w&ftrtiWWiUW J sabjtct to haif wharfage charge!, • ■-:' <■:■-■- 4 1< otic- 1 he, wharfage on goods, CIMMS A, B»» J C. D. aod », carried by rail between Auckland Htstlon and Onehunga Wharf, »pove»a by a»i: raUwi»y freight. . :,i - "rS j Tolls.- :s,:■■ ■>':■ t, 4to?.' ■■' Kach vofael lying at tne wharf, pet irork ing dsy or part thereof, per ton gross ! register up 10150 tons .. _ .. 0 OJ-* J For each ton above 1511 tons, per working k ;>! day or part thereof.. ... .. .. O DI I Minimum charge, per working diy or part thereof.. .. ;. ..2 6 For every wagon usingthe wharf, drawn by one horse, each time ~ .. ..10 ;'; For each additional horse — .. ..0 6^ 1 For each express cart of other vehicle, drawn by one horsa ' w .. ..0 6 | For every barrow or hand-trnok, each . I time _ .. .. .. ... . Ji, Cranage. "| Koruao of crane on wharf,per ton.. -. 0G , J (Exceptional cargoes (as may be determined by . fa the Railway Department) 10 be charged per (Jay,. I fj ; or otherwise by fpacial arrangement. Tho charge for oranaice aoe» not inolnde the cost ol <J hnu'age to the crane when the goods have been.; previously deposited at a distance therefrom. The working hours are from 8 fcttu to 5 p.in* ! on week-days. HBtENBVIHtti WHIHF. Wharfage Rates. All. goods loaded or unloaded from or into- ' '} boats or other craft into or from boats or other CMfilyinp; at tho railway wharf, will be charged. . tlio ordinary wharfage rates. Dated this 29th day of March, 1882. , ' I JOHN HAM., . I Minister acting for the Minister for ;,| Publio Workß. ■ ■



rnHE AUCKLAND GAS COMPANY,. X Limited* , PURVEYORS OF LIGHT, HEAT, & POWEB* Gas fittings, Gas Apparatus,£nd GAB BliaWßß- In Stock. FORT-STREET. AUCKLAND. fgiAKAP^A LAKE.— Coach leaver -W- Post-office, Dovonport, daily at 7.20, 10,30 > n.na., and 2.30 and 130 p.m., returning at 8 and H 15a.m., and at 3.15 ana 5.15 p.m. Sunday*,, loaves mll a in., 2.30 ana 1.30 p.m. Pares, one sliilliug each way. Special iripß when necee pmj. : vsddle horsts ana all kinds of carriaiw*. 1 for hlre.-OLiVJBiK MAYS, Llyery BtabUh. ' " Davonport. T^ ':| IfTT ALTER BAYNE, '.! * » Kyber pass, UNDERTAKER . r Of 20 years'experience, . ■ Funerals conducted -with dispatch, and I at prices to defy competition.