STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT.

AUCKLAND, N.Z., SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1883.

RANDOM SHOTS.

[By Zamiel.]

)•-:(

Some write, a neighbour's name to lash. Some writo—vain thought I—for needful cash, Some writo to please the country clash.

And raise a'diu, For mo, an aim I never fash— I write for fun.

The fashion of this world changeth, and you and I, gentle reader, change with it. But a short week ago and the universal

question wan, "Is the Doric in ?" All Auck land, from the least unto the greatest, seemed to be turned for the nonce into a gigantic point of interrogation ; or if a dis passionate stranger's opinion could hare been got on the matter, he might hare said that all the residents of the city and neigh-

bourhood had suddenly become mono maniacs, whose " one idea " was the Doric and the probable date of her arrival. It is no doubt natural that a nation of exiles should feel an overpowering interest in the coming of another lot of expatriated brethren and sisters ; and in this case there was superadded the excitement (to an essentially maritime people) of the arrival of the largest merchant steamer that has ever been seen in our harbour. On the whole, the excitement and interest are creditable to colonists, and I trust it will be long ere the public look with coldness or unconcern on such an important event to Auckland and the colony as has just taken place. Now that the Doric has come, and has dis gorged her 000 "new chums" on our shores, the fashion lias changed, and the popular question now is, " Have you seen the Doric?" Not that any one can well miss sec-ing her. From the high-lying parts of the city she was seen on Saturday afternoon steaming majestically up Kangi toto Channel a full hour before the anxious crowds on the Queen-strest Wharf could be certain whether it was the Doric or the 'Frisco mail boat that was signalled ; she was seen by admiring thousands on Sunday afternoon, as she lay at anchorafre off the North Head, and she has been seen in similar fashion every day of the week as she lay at the Queen-street Wharf, her collossal dimensions dwarfing everything else into comparative insignificance. Hut there is seeing and seeing ; an outside view is one thing, and an inside view is another ; and as the latter, like kissing, seems to go by favour, a new social distinction has been created—society being divided into two great classes—those who have been on board the Doric, and those who have not. Of course " Zamiel " has been on board, but as he also experienced the acute agony of being refused an entrance until he had mastered the "Open Sesame " trick, he is in a posi tion to appreciate; to the full the awful gulf which separates between the two conditions. Thus it is in no boasting spirit that ho pro pounds the momentous question, IIAVK YOU SEEN THE DOItIC 1

What, don't you know the latest out? From pure "jam turt" to rabble rout. It's all the bo to veil and shout, - Oh ! have you sr-cn the Doric ?" This noblo ship ifi spick-span new— Strange captain, officers, and crow ; And twiuu three hundred "new chums,"too, Have landed from the Doric. On Monday it was high old fun To boc the bigwigs, one by one. Attempt to bluff old Neptune's son And get on board tha Doric. They'd ii|i the gangway run a-muck. Hut all wore certain to not stuck ; Though ii batch of clerics were in Luck And got on board the Doric. The jolly tars could do no less Than grant the freedom of the Press ; So gray-gooso-r|uill-inen. yon may guess, Were rife aboard the Doric. An auctioneer, not very Green, Wood, fain behold tho favoured seenc, And so two Press-men pressed between, And got on hoard tho Doric. Light up the gangway sprang the Judge : The jolly tar refused to budge. And down poor Gillies had to trudge, And curs.; the. churlish Doric. " Tho law's delay" ne'er roused his fears Like Hioae obstructive) sailors' leors, And larrikins' unfeeling joers, Of "Have you seen the Dcric?"

And many more, who went up glad. Came down as if they'd got it bad ; Some looked finite dazed, as if they'd had A dose of paregoric. But why should I prolong the lay. Since now she's been and gono away ? In Doric phrase I'll simply Bay, " Ye canna soe tiio Doric!" I had intended to give a few verses about the " gallant six hundred " who have been landed from the Doric on our shores ; but after the herculean effort necessary to produce the above, I feel quite exhausted, and must reserve consideration of the New Chum Brigade to a future occasion. XXX

My mind has boon very greatly exer cised over the football dispute, and as tho conflicting statements of the contending parties have reduced tho majority of peo ple to a helpless condition of fogginess about the real merits of the ease, and as it appeared to me that a level-headed fel low was wanted to clear the affair up, deal ing out even-handed ju.stice to both parties, I resolved, in the absence of any local Cockburn, to take the thing in hand. After wading painfully through several columns of stirring correspondence and sundry volumes of rules and precedents, the merits of tho dispute became consider ably clearer than mud, and a perusal of the facts hero set forth will, I trust, lead both parties to accept the decision without further demur, and so close this exceed ingly unpleasant and unseemly clamour. It appears, then, from the affidavits filed by Crox ton, Cotter, Henderson, and others that the entire point at issue is this—"Was the ball a dead or a live ball 1 Football, to be any sort of a game, must be played with a live ball, and live fellows. Now, it is admitted in the affidavits on both sides that if the ball was a real live ball, then the Wel lingtonians won. If, on the other hand, the ball was a dead'un, then this "try" on of Wellington's won't do. In order, therefore, to determine this vital question, three or four things have to bo considered : Did Allan kill the ball by " throwing-on," and if so what was it he threw ? Did Cotter imme diately raise his stick and "call back," if so, why so? Did Webb " touch down" or up, and why didn't he kick a goal ? It is quite clear by the evidence tendered on both sides that all this or something equally bad did happen to the ball, and everyone ■who wears boots made of colonial leather ■will heartily concur with me that no colonial ball could stand such usage and live ; ergo, the ball was a dead ball, and Auckland wine. Failing satisfaction with this ruling, I can only recommend one alternative which, in my young football «iays, provided a never-failing remedy for all disputes over settling—let the teams meet and punch each other's heads. In con clugSpn, I must remark that there is nothing

like these tours in the pursuit of a noble game for the cultivation of sentiments of amity and good-fellowship between parts of the colony long separated by childish and unworthy rivalries.

It is a pleasure to turn from the miser able and unmanly squabbling and name calling of the football fiasco to the wonder ful feat accomplished by Captain Haultain, the master of the ketch Reliance. Pitched overboard into a raging sea, encumbered with sea-boots up to his thighs and heavy wearing apparel, he succeeded in divesting himself of his clothing, and then buffetted the waves for three hours through the darkness of the night, reaching the shore safely, though in an exhausted condition. We don't need the barren honour of a referee's smile in a disputed football match to prove that our so-called enervating climate can produce good bone and muscle and pluck when a native-born Aucklander can perform a feat like that. It would'nt be at all a bad idea, in the way of novel ad vertising, were the Government to select an equally good specimen of the New Zealand bred lassies as a mate for the gallant skipper, presuming him to be single and willing to change his state, and send the pair to England in the interests of immigra tion. The Rev. Joseph Berry used to make a strong point in favour of the New Zealand climate by telling his audiences that cherry pie (heliotrope) blooms all the year round, but the exhibition of Captain Haultain'3 gigantic and well-knit physique and the story of that swim womd be very much more to the purpose.

While the Melbourne Presbyterians have been grieving over the lax Sabbatarian views of the itev. Mr Strong, a Southern contemporary lias managed to get oft' a good joke at the expense of the Rev. Jas. McKee, formerly of Masterton. According to the "Wairarapa Star," this gentleman went out for a drive on the last Sabbath in August with a young unmarried lady, and they were so deeply engaged in,their com muning* that the clerical driver failed to notice a steep embankment, over which the vehicle was suddenly capsized, badly damaging the contents. That the horee should have played the parson such a trick is proof positive that the views of that noble animal are strictly orthodox, and the good-wives of the district no doubt see a judgment in the catastrophe no less solemn than the warning of Balaam's ass. I guess the minister will have a rather unpleasant time of it for a while, his bruises contributing only a very small proportion of his sufferings.

There is an earnestness and sincerity about some of the Salvationists that bear down a good deal of opposition, and it is to this 'that the remarkable success of the movement is attributable. While standing at the end of the wharf on Saturday after noon looking at the Doric, my attention was attracted by four pleasant-faced young women, dressed in the neat uniform of the " Hallelujah lass." One had a bundle of the " War Cry " under her arm, and begged the passers-by to purchase a copy. A spec tator so saluted began to express his sur prise that girls like them should demean themselves in o pursuit which must provoke many disagreeable rebuffs, when the best looking of the trio, who was gazing with dreamy eyes into the infinitude of the azure horizon, remarked modestly, and without turning her head, but with unmistakable fervour : " It is by the grace of God we are what we are ; and we are not ashamed to do anything in His cause." The retort was so prompt that the critic looked rather chop-fallen and nonplussed, and withheld whatever other homilies he might have been preparing for their delectation. The success of the Army in so unpromising a field as New Zealand is the best apology that can be offered for their methods. Their latest achievement 5s the transforming of the Invercargill theatre into a bar racks. And funds are found to pay between £2,000 and £3,000 a-year in rent in New Zealand alone. To be willing to bleed in a cause is about the best proof one can give of sincerity, and this test the supporters of the movement have stood under fire from larrikin mobs, and the perhaps severer trial, to a class of people not over-burdened with wealth, of a raid upon their pockets.

So the Board of Education have actually decided to make a reform in regard to the style of dress worn by the girls of the High School. Ger-acious ! (at least ungracious). What next ? I suppose we shall soon hear that the Board intend to draw up a code of rules as to what the girls are to eat and drink, the kind of company they must keep, their hours of rest, and—worse than all— the kind of persons they must marry. To my rude and untutored intellect, tho step they have token is just a trifle bej'ond their wise and legitimate jurisdiction. It is not a question whether the present practice of tight-lacing is injurious or not, for there is a little doubt on this matter ; but it is the equally important question whether it is the Board's place to dictate to parents and children in matters of tnste, which is, in fact, interfering with the liberty of the subject. Moreover, it is desirable that there should be some line of demarcation drawn between that which is within the Board's power and that which is not; for if not, who shall say where it will stop? And after all is said and done, what is the main reason assigned for the alteration ? So far as I have Been, It is that the present style of dress will not allow that freedom of the muscles and limbs which is necessary for carrying out the semi-gymnastic performances which have been imposed on the girls. Now, nothing could be farther from my thoughts than to detract from the benefits of physical exer cises, which are, without doubt, very great. But even this sort of thirig can be carried too far; and when young people (ay, and old too) are made to go through a course of muscular drill which is humiliating to them, and which many of them detest, then it is time to halt, and review what la being done. Recommendations on the subject might have been made, so that those who saw the matter through the same glasses as the Board of Education (and which glasses are moat likely green) could have been sup ported by authority in outraging the fashions ; but to compel the whole school to change their mode of dress, and so become " objects," as one of the Board pointed out, for the sake of carrying out this scheme of physical exercise, is, to say the least of it, unwise. The exercises are suitable enough, if not overdone, tor persons of tho male" per suasion, but girls should not be expected to go quite as far as boys in these matters ; they might find all the exercise they require in stooping to domestic duties at their homes—at least to some extent. If the present fashion prevented the studies of the girls, which it is the primary object of the school to advance, thijj would place the

matter in a different light; but all that ia hindered at present is the pet quasi-gym nastic mania of the Board and the In spector's particular fad about laws of health.

Lest these remarks should bo construed into an endorsement of the abominations of fashion, let me here qualify them. One cannot help thinking that Nature has been kind to the young ladies of this colony, and especially of Auckland. It may be said of our young girls, with a slight alteration of the phraseology, "God has made woman upright, but she has sought out many devices " —notably the device of tight-lac ing, which is so ruinous to the constitution. The language of the poets in respect of wo man has been varied and extreme —gushing on her beauty or censorious on her frailties. Women of the upper classes, who are not obliged necessarily to keep themselves in condition by serviceable work, lose, after middle age, a considerable amount of their height—not by stooping, as men do, but by actual collapse, mainly attributable to the perishing of the muscles that support the frame, in consequence of habitual and con tinual pressure of tight-lacing, anJ depen dence of the body upon the artificial support of stays. Girls are assured upon the best medical authority that closely-laced stays press upon these muscles and restrict tlie free development of the fibres that form them, relieving them from their natural duties of supporting the spine—indeed, in capacitating them from so doing. It is pitiable to see prepossessing young girls in Queen-street afflicting themselves by tight lacing, in obedience to the promptings of simple pride. Failure ofhealth amongwomen when the vigour of youth passes away is but too patent, and but too frequently caused by the habit of tight-lacing. Our young girls are very obstinate in respect of this habit, despite its inevitable and often fatal consequences. A reason, if not a necessity, for some sort of corset may be found when the form is very redundant. This, how ever, cannot be with slight young ladies, but all that necessity could demand, and that practical good sense and fitness would concede, could be found in a strong elastic kind of jersey, sufficiently strong, and even stiff, under the bust to support it, and sufficiently elastic at the sides and back to injure no organs and impede no functions. Will the young ladies of Auckland accept this gentle shot in favour of health and happiness ?

XXX A rather amusing incident came under my observation on Monday night, the beginning and end of which are still shrouded in mystery. Sauntering quietly up Franklin Road, my attention was attracted by the movements of two men marching solemnly down the centre of the street, one leading a horse with full harness on, the other walking by his side carrying a pair of buggy shafts. " I shouldn't care so much," exclaimed No. 2 to No. 1, "if we only knew where the body was." The tone in which this sentiment was delivered was irresistibly ludicrous. It would appear that the men had set out for a drive, and had somehow lost the body of the buggy, and were now returning home with the remnants. This is the sort of story one reads about in the comic papers, but the above may be accepted as a bare narrative of facts, and I leave my readers to make the best of it.

XXX The reader has, of course, heard that saying which affirms of any person who is thought rather slow that " he will never set the Thames on fire !" Well it looks very much as if the rapid rate at which the Province of Auckland is going ahead has caused too much friction, for this week, as reported, the Thames is really on fire—at least the Thames gold-mines are, which is the same thing, for Thames without gold would be like the world without the sun. Very appropriately, the fire is in the Cale donian mine, the scene of so many "burning" incidents in the earlier history of the goldfield. A good deal of the gold found in it burned holes in the pockets of the finders ; more of it caused heart-burning and jealousy ; while the fever-heat engendered by the operations there extended over the whole colony. By a sort of retributive turn of the .scale, the mine is now having its share of burning, and the phenomenon is sorely puzzling the hardy miners of Quarfeopolis. I will not bother myself with vain speculations as to the cause of the conflagration, nor offer suggestions (however valuable these might be) for its extinction, but will draw attention to a curious effect of the fumes arising from "the smoke of its burning." According to one of the ac counts I read, a miner was found in a state of semi-drunkenness, the result of a con tinued inhalation of the vapours, while thice others were rendered completely "in capable " from the same cause.

Now, this suggests that tho guileless miner is not such a well-eea-soned soul as most people imagine Not many weeks ago, the popular delusion on the subject was shaken by the statement in the papers that a Thames miner, after drinking a single glass of spirits, wns rendered helplessly drunk : a day or two since another blow was dealt at the lingering belief by the dis covery that the "brandy" upon which the heroes of tho pick and shovel had been get ting hilariously " fou" for months was nothing but tho diluted essence of a hunk of diseased beef ; and now this latest revelation that these horny handed sons of toil can get drunk on smoke will dissipate the illusion for ever—in deed, it may be said to be dissolved in smoke. Henceforth, instead of saying that a man is "fresh" or "elevated," or "obfuscated," our friends at the Thames must fall back on the Scottish phrase " smeekit," which being interpreted signifies smoked. To close this somewhat discursive note on "setting tho Thames on fire," is the reader aware that this saying is an instance of the ease with which popular phrase lends itself to corrup tion ? To set the river Thames on fire, it will be seen, is an absurdity quite out of keeping with " proverbial wisdom," hence the saying must have a different origin. That origin has been traced to the old grain mills of Britain, which hnd a sifting apparatus known in old English speech as the temse. This, it appears, was apt to go in blaze from friction when the mill was smartly worked, but when a lazy fellow was in attendance, it got to be said of him, " He'll never set the temsc on fire !" But let me leave the dry field of etymology for a more inviting theme.

I have read an old Arabic proverb some where, the purport of which is that woman is the origin of all evil. Wo moderns —more gallant or perhaps more -wife-fearing than the contemporaries of Haronn Alraschid— have metamorphosed the aphorism into "money is the root of all evil." This— and I cay it unreservedly, Mrs Zamiel

having gone to the Thames for a week— does more credit to our discretion than our love of the truth. However, the fault is neither yours nor mine, kind reader ; so we will let the lie pass uneontra dicted to succeeding generations. I have been led to this train of thought by a story I recently heard from a Southern gentleman of undoubted credibility, and one whose position certainly should enable him to be conversant with the doings of our upper ten thousand. Years ago, just after Julius Vogel had burst like a meteor on our political firmament, Judge Johnston and his spouse were the leaders of the Welling ton crone de la crane. The Empire City is very conservative in social matters, and the great borrower found it extremely difficult to get his plebeian nose into the ex clusive coteries of the capital, notwithstand ing the fact that " honorable " was written before his name. After a while he married a beautiful and accomplished woman; but, unfortunately, in the eyes of Wellington, she was as much a parvenu as himself, and things were made uncommonly uncomfort able for the newly-married couple. On one occasion the crowning insult was ad ministered. Julius was asked to a reception and his wife omitted. The Vogels were cut to the quick, and the blue blood of the match-box city secretly congratulated itself on having snubbed a pair of nobodies. But the whirligig of time brings its own revenges. The Chief Justiceship of the colony became vacant, and everyone ex pected that Judge Johnston, the lending puisne judge, would be elevated. Long service, integrity, and ability entitled him to the honour, but the slaughtered dignity of the Vogels required appeasing, and ho was passed over.

The general opinion as to the result of the recent polemical discussion on the sub ject of Conditional Immortality is that Mr Hutson was overmatched from the very outset. He anpeai-ed to have a more inti mate acquaintance with Greek and Hebrew than his antagonist, but he was far his inferior in dialectical skill, and, in addition to this, he lacked concentration of thought and deliniteness of purpose. He frittered away a great deal of valuable time upon merely incidental topics or side issues, and I verily believe that he consumed the larger proportion of his intervals of speech in explaining what he intended to do and in defining his ideas of Mr Brown's position, than in dealing with the question itself. Mr Brown evidently derives what know ledge of Greek and Hebrew he possesses from lexicons and writers of his own

party, and lie has, too, a close acquaintance with all the Scriptural passages bearing upon the point at issue. In tine, he is a specialist ; and, besides, years of lecturing and debating experience have taught him the value of such pro-requisites as com pression, method, lucidity, and clear au thoritative evidence. He had clearly mapped out his own course, and he adhered to it very tenaciously throughout. There could be no doubt that the audience were much impressed by him, and I should not be surprised to learn that he succeeded in making a great many converts.

In fact, I have, been assured, on excellent authority, that a gentleman of weight in the community—in something more than a metaphorical sense, gentle reader —was so captivated by Mr Brown's reasoning in favour of Conditional Immortality that lie incontinently resolved to embrace the new doctrine, abandoning for it, if necessary, the unpretensious little Bethel where he has held foith almost time out of mind. Ac cordingly, last Sunday, he imparted his change of opinion to his brethren in the sanctuary, and told them further that, if lie were debarred from preaching on the altered basis, he would have to go out from their midst. The elders of the congrega tion were grievously exercised in mind at the prospect of losing their chief, and, as a compromise, they agreed to await the pub lication of the promised verbatim report of the debate, in order to go over it with him, line by line and statement by statement, and test the arguments on either side. It may be, therefore, that the whole congrega tion will secede from orthodoxy and give in their adhesion to the evangel of which Geo. A. Brown is the well-beloved apostle.

If tho "Auld Kirk" would avert this condition of things, to whicli they have indirectly contributed, why do they not put forward one of those grizzled veterans who can use the weapens of controversial strife with more dexterity and cunning than Mi- Hutson? although it is matter for serious doubt whether they possess his courage. If I should be asked to nominate the champion who might be supposed to cope with this defiant adversary, I should feel inclined to trot out the ex-member for City *\Vest—Dr. Wallis. He has been so long unkindly shut out from the arena of heady debate that I am sure he must really be ' blue mowldy fur want ova batin'," and I venture to think that Mr Brown would need all his address and skill to withstand him. The doctor is too slippery a customer to be easily pressed into a corner ; too wily a bird to be caught with chaff; sufficiently facetious in his homely Doric (no offence to the new-chums) to score a few hits off his adversary's weak points ; and quite meta physical enough to drive any opponent to despair. Let him, then, be brought forth from his retirement, clad in the panoply of his church, and sent fortli to meet the audacious foe. XXX

An excellent story is being told at the expense of a local clergyman, whose name I suppress for very potent reasons. Whether the occurrence really happened as related, I am not prepared to say, but there does ap pear to be something familiar in the inci dent as told, which inclines mo to the be lief that I have heard it before. It is said that the clergyman in question was accosted on one of his daily walks recently by an unmistakable tramp, who explained that starvation and misfortune had driven him to the last stage of desperation, and begged a donation of 5s to save him from that which his soul abhorred. Thereverend gentle man was struck with the desperate tone of the pleader, and visions of a possible suicide floated before his troubled mind. Handing over the five shillings, he fervently besought the poverty-stricken tramp never to think of destroying the life that was not his own, but observing a quizzing and cunning smile on the beggar's cou n ten ance, he stopped short and inquired—" What is it that your soul abhors?" "Work, sir," replied the cute individual as his hand closed tightly round the coins, and he struck a bee-line foB?a neighbouring pub. It is currently reported that indiscriminate charity is no longer one of that clergyman's weaknesses.

Earth's kindreds shall not always sleep ; Nations shall not always weep.

SELECTED POETRY.

MARRIED AND SETTLED.

Annie White or Annie Grey Wedding-day and wu: hin K -duy; Morning; follows staiVynishl. Grey the (lawn, then clouds of white Sueli is nature, such is life, Toiling. Imsllinir. farmer's wife ] have seen thee. Annie <;rov Jjiko a kitten full nlplav Oft have heard thy silvern voice Singing ballads of thy choice Seen thee at the Choral Hail, At the skating rink and bail; Saw.thoe, on thy we<l<li'ii;-dav SiniliiiK, weepiii-. Annie <;,vy: At St. Paul's, onyondeilui;/ht; ( liniiKiiiK nan. <■» from (in-.y to While, .Happy wort tholl, Annie tirov At the concert and the play;' Hlitaeasany Auckland lass Ere to Ilowick tliou didst pass.

Now ainouK the sheep and cows, Shaded o'er hy leafy houghs Thou an seen at mornings prime, With thy rail at .'nilkin-.time ; JJrralliiiiir health—a farmer's bride— Workiu if. working! thnm/ch the hours, \\ itli no Uuuis-iil of pleasant ilowers; Gossip at. tlio.rjarden stile, lii.the .sunset's partiiiß smile. 1" ii so early, fivsl, ami free. In fix; eve prepnriiuf ten ; Cliimiin- l.iiiu-V. skin.uiiV'-erram .HmodiiiK- o'ei- some, business scheme. Walrliim: i.-;i.-0,-ks. iiunili.-niu; siocir, Careless of the kitchen clock. While towards the. clear blue sky Snari-'.u: lav!::: s;,,u- merrilie. Suvot to some the souk and flight— Not to worried Annie White.. Xat 'ir:-'s .--iinsets on tlree slnne. In the evenings enlm decline. Then, the daity labour dune Down to llowk-k fora run ; Thru, like .sparrows to their nest, Wfai-iec] nature finds her rest • Then sweet ansel dreams of niirht Cheer thy spirit, Annie White ! Then come visions of the past, Scenes which wore too hviKht to last; Then the crpwinp; of the. cool;, Starling thee at live o'clock : Then thy husband's waking voice. Which should make tliy heart, rejoice— "Annie, it is time to rise, Annie, ope thy laushimr eyes, Annie, this is washhiK-'iay. Hirds are calling from each spray, Annie, for thy husbandV. : iike Tlio lire lifc'lit- the poi-rhh-,- make '' Ah," sighed Annie, "hni-d's the life. Of a Howk-kfarmer's wife, Cookinu-. washing, making cheese. Darning stockings, ne'er at ease ; Working, working, all day long, HiinimiiiKout some old-world song; And 'mid cares to wear a smile. Were I but from labour free, ' Happy, happy, could 1 lie; GaddiiiK through fair Auckland's streets, Buying dresses, ribbons, sweets. With no children at, my knees, Servant girls my mind'to tense."

Murmur not, fair Annie White, By-nnd-by 'twill nil be riplit; Such the clianffiiif,' hues of life. Sheen and shadow, joy and strife : Whether White, or whether Grey, Shadows come across the way. John Blackman.

PARODY ON "JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO."

John Alcohol, my foe, John, When we were first, acquaint I'd siller in my pockets, John, Which noo yo ken. I want; I spent it, all in treating, John, Because I loved yon so; But, mark ye, how you've treated me, John Alcohol, my foe. John Alcohol, my foe, John, We've been ower lang theprither, Sac ye maun tak' ao road, John, And I will tak'anithor; For we maun tumble down, John, If hand in hand we go ; And I shall hao the bill to pay, John Alcohol, my foe. John Alcohol, my foe, John, Yu'yo bleared out. a'my can. And lighted up my nose, John, A fiery sign atween ! My hands wi' palsy shake, John, My locks are like tin-snow, Yell surely bo the di nth o' me, John Alcohol, my foe. John Alcohol, my foe, John, •Twas love to you, 1 ween. That Karl me rise sac. ear', John, And sit sac late at c'en ; The best o' frien's maun part, John, It grieves me sair, ye know ; But'" we'll nae mair to yon town ;" John Alcohol, my foe. John Alcohol, my foe, John, Yc've wrought me inuekle skailli; And yet to part wi' you, John, I own I'm unco laitli ; But I'll join the temperance ranks, John, Yo needna' say me no; It's better late than ne'er do weel, John Alcohol, my foe. C.W.M. August 20, 1883.

ENVOYAGE.

Wliiclicver way the wind doth blow Some heart is 1.-1:k1 10 have it bo ; Then blow k, east or blow it, west, The wind that blows, that wind is best. My little craft sails not alone : A thousand fleets from every zone Are out tfpon a thousand sens ; What blow;; roi-miciifiivoiiriiiKbi-cezo Minht (lush another, with tlie shock Of doom, upon some hidden rock. And so I do not, ilaro to pray For winds to waft me on my way, But leave it to a Higher Will To stay or speed me, trusting still Th.it sill is well, and fur,: i hat Tie Who launched my banme will Hail with mo Tlnwiprh storm and calm, and will not. fail, Whatever hre.zfs may prevail. To land mo, every peril past. Within His shullcWnij heaven at last. Then whatsoever wind doth blow, My heart is triad to liave it so ; And blow it east or blow it west, The wind that blows, that wind is best Caroline A. Mason.

FLOTSAM!

All the, mill horses of Europe Were plodding round i-.iul i-ouncl ; All tho mills were droning The same old sound. The drivers were dozing, tl.c millers Were deaf, as millers will be ; Who;), BtartlhiK tliem all, without warning. Came a great shout from the sea ! It startled them all: tho horses. Lazily plod.liv-nMiii'l, Started and stopped ; mid I ho mills dropped. Like a mantle, their sound. The millers looked over their shoulders, Tho drivers opened Iheii- eyes; A silence, deeper than clearness. Had fallen out of the skiea. " Halloa, there!"—this time distinctly It. rose from tin; barren sea; And Kurope. turning in wonder. Whispered, "What can it be 2" "Come down! come down to the shore here!" And Kuropo was soon on tho Band; — It was the Rrcat Columbus Dragging his prize to land. J. LOGIK KOBEUTSOX.



They arc slaves who fear to speak For the fallen and the weak ; They arc slaves who will not choose Hatred, seoniiiß, or abuse, Kathcr than in silence shrink From the truth ihey needs must think : They are slaves who will not duro AH wrongs to right, all right* to share.