STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT.

AUCKLAND, N.Z., SATURDAY, JUNE 23, 1883.

RANDOM SHO TS.

XXX

[By ZAMiBIJ

rprWwalmlne^h-^.

With■.** e»eas Jjjj^, of c^y'. ll'^WriXteelli?iS"h. public sent., ment, only a* «« •" 'ft , e§ We ii, lMPlS«frf2*i though I, for on,, dOD fSvSded them greater praise 1 2fa7ly, Mead of unwillingly and *" Sv TbeSTAK from the first ad. SSK retention of the 9 e propeitiee, in rSttrltt of the various institution, £L&ttad W the bequest 5 bat I believe Mr YC Firth deserves the first and best meed ■f Se for he kept " pegging away," like Steffi $« dividedopiniopsregarding liedSßaloftheCosU.ylH.qu.Bt. x x- x There ia* good story told of a Yankee Sit the defunct had departed this lite.a few SJw prepared 10 certify; his duty was SK pl»io, and the inquest must pro- Sen The iary having duly considered the •eridence attending the finding of the body, She gravity and acumen of those pro wroia-ly sagacious bodies, recorded that "the deoeased, name unknown, was found ■toad, but bj what means he c.me by his death there was no evidence to .how." The Si pocketed his fees, and chucked weriiis own shrewdness. In stnet atten tion to bnsinesa, a New Zealand country kroner is not to be outdone by any Yankee yet born, as the. following plain unvarnished tile will prove. In a settlement not forty miles from Auckland, there reside a ■coroner and doctor to whom fees are few and Jar between, The other day, however, the »ife of » settler died suddenly. But the doctor had been attending her previously, and was in a position to certify, as he did afterwards at the inquest, tbat death had reialted from apoplexy. To have so reck lejaly.sacrificed ia* own and the coroner's slender emoluments, would have been a deliberate flying in the face of Providence. A jury was accordingly summoned, and ithe doctor suggested a post-mortem. They wouldn't, however, staud that, bo the doctor had to content himself with his ffltideat guinea, the coroner pocketed his ■two, and the jury, who pocketed nothing, jented their spite for being called together on s bootless errand by appending to their verdict'of* death from apoplexy a stigma npisn the .memory of the deceased, which, however, by virtue of that beautiful spirit •of amity so characteristic of these select' little societies seems to have been quietly aappretsed.. .;-!•■•'" ■ x XX Hii.Worship the Mayor, cautions Scot Ihouith, he is, found himself in a dreadful ■quandary ion Monday night. He had taken the, coair at the Society of Arts meeting, and was calmly and contentedly listening to tho reading of the report, when a chance-reference in it to an intended pre sentation of prizes at a laterstsge of the pro ceedings caused1 ban to start with sur prised recollection. He thrust his right hand hastily into bis breast pocket, {ambled about uneasily, and withdrew it slowly, while his face put on a concerned and agitated look. Then he searched his -waistcoat, dived his hands into his trousers pockets, returned to his coat, and finally threw an agonised glance upon the audi ence:: Despair was fast settling upon his feature;', when the aged seneschal ci the building happened to pass by, He was beckone.d to come near, and in response toa whispered communication produced a pair of antique spectacles, with a piece of cloth attached whereby to fasten them semrely to the head. The Mayor gazsd dubiously at the cloth attachment before soiling his' locks with it, but necessity knows no law, and he li.itl to submit. The gtaies, hDwever, wonld not suit. At this critical stage,' the audience generously a>shtei:Eis Worship off the horns of the dilemma that he was bestriding, All the old men with one mind ferreted out their spectacle-cases and passed them up to the chair, while the seneschal made several expeditions through the other parts of the lnildidg, coming back each lime with a fresh assortment of optical curios, From this miscellaneous collection our worthy chief magistrate was able at last to select an article that served his turn. Meanwhile the audience had been greatly entertained by tbe little interlude. .

: XX X Even Americans are pretty well tired of tearing the name of George Washington, "the Father of his Country." He has been dime to death; and the story of the little He and the cherry tree has long ceased to point a moral even to the school children. Lincoln is also nearly played out. The example of the rail-splitting conntry attor ney who became President at ,a tremen. 'tally critical time in his country's annals, w» no doubt an Illustrious' one, which his lajleas fate gave awful emphasis to; out iis name palls a little on our ear?. But wh«t must he said of Garfield? Garfield '"the Dutiful," who began life in a log «bta f and ended it at the White House; ifbo bestrode canal horses and mulei in his youth, and died President of the United Btiteß i ' A man of the Rev. Shirley Baker's owemment ought to have spared us this. The atoty has been told already in good ness knows how many different forms, till Me ia beginning to get nauseated. The proverb says: we cannot have too much of a good thing; hut- proverbs do not always tell the truth, and this one is halt a falsehood, We have had quite enough of Gartield for the present. In the interests of the fame and reputation of the man, ;whieh» I allow and admire as cheer fully aa anyone, the instructors of youth OBght to suppress the thread-bare tale for a

time, and put together another and less familiar one. The constant exhibition of even so many virtues must have but or>e effect t first fatigue, then indifference, and finally positive distase. Garfield was pos sibly a martyr, but what has the public done that they should for ever be having the fact dinned in their ears? They will turn like the worm before long, and begin to enquire whether the pretty little stories which the anecdote-mongers have been telling about Garfield are all true. Some of us think already that if the unfortunate man had not been killed either by an assassin or bad surgery, we should have heard very little about him; his fame would not have boon trumpeted all round the globe. It is quite certain that he was not the founder of, a new nation, norjthe emancipator of an oppressed one,

Upon a fair average, thirty persona in the week are convicted of drunkenness at the Police Court, and subjected to fine or im prisonment. A'cohol is no reap°«tor of per sods it levels both publican and sinner; members of all classes ot society fall be neath its blighting influence, Total ab stainers evidently are not so energetic as they once were in their ondeavours to cor rect this stale of things; the advocates of the temperance cause, in this city especi ally, are generally feeble in their utter ances — their speeches lack vigour and i roshuoss, and consequently (ail in making permanent converts among the shadows of life. Good and indifferent Templars have their petty entertainments, simple songs, and, what is worse, their childish parlour tames, uot tit, according to Dickens, for the musory. Hunting the slipper and spinning the platter may please children, but such Jturaes are ineffective in producing sober results. The wretched victims of strong driok continually make promises of amend ment, and as frequently break them. Uur legislators and temperance reformer* must look elsewhere tor the true reformation aud cure of the drunkard. It all moral pow* r has vanished, and rvery spark of mental energy fled, the on! resource seemingly left is to forcibly keep the wrecks of immunity, if possible, from further degra dation. Some might argue that this course would be an infringv. nent of the liberty of the subject, while ou the other, hand it might be argued with equal justice that physical restraint would be of benefit both to the individual.and the community, a briet imprisonment does not effect the needed reformation, for in nine cases out of ten tbe victim, on regaining his liberty, re turns to his degrading excesses. As long, however, as reason. survives, there is hope for the least hopeful, and the prospect of a redeeming future tor the most despairing, no charmed potion will ever slay tbe dragon of dipsomania; no potent talisman will ever have power to exorcise the demon of the drink crave; but wise medical measures will strengthen the hands of those who undertake the treatment of persons who have fallen through drink. It has been asserted, and perhaps rightly, that the return to sobriety must be pathological, I think, however, that while extraneous aids may be useful, the work must com mence from within; that the path which leads to the reform, or cure, of the drunkard can only be pursued by strict conformity to the laws of health under the government of enlightened reason and the assistance of a strong will.

X X X

from "Rakino Island," a gentleman writes me a Jengtby letter suggested by my "shot" of Juue 2nd, on the subject of local industries. I must plead guilty to a certain amount of haaineis. *s to the exact, whereabouts of xiakino, but that does not hinder me JTom appreciating this voice from its ocean-girdled snore*. My " shot" had reference to an attempt at boiler-making in Auckland, or rather, to putting together a boiler made at Home and sent out here; in sections; and after showing that it cost £80 more than if it had been imported in a finished state, I asked if such encourage ment to local industry was a gain to the community. My friend on Kalciuo says it was a distinct gain, though he does not very clearly indicate how the gain accrued, unless it is in that clause which refers to "keeping money in the country." Now, it money were of any other value than as a' medium of exchange, there might be some end attained by " keeping it in the conn j try;" but money is not wealth, in the true sense, and it was not money but New Zea land produce that paid for the boiler in question. Money kept in the country will no more make the country prosperous than money kept in a man's pocket will give him a dinner, unless the country can give in return such wealth or wealth-producing appliances as are wanted. Say a plough costs £30 to make in New Zealand, and one as good can be brought from America for £20 ; is not new Zealand £10 the richer by sending her money out of the country ? The purchaser has got a plough worth £30 in the local market at a reduction of one-third, and is thus £10 richer than if he had "en couraged local industry." In like manner the general wealth of the community is enhanced by having added to it a £30 ar ticle for an outlay ef £20. Xo put it plainly, and leave out the medium (money) alto gether :If a farmer can get a certain imple ment by sending 20 bushels of wheat to England, would it not be extreme folly for him to give his neighbour over the street 30 bushels for the same article J So long as the colony exports, it must import articles in exchange, and freedom of ex change alone will enable the country to get the full value of its productions. XXX But I most let my correspondent speak for himself. He says :—"I think if you would study the laws of competition, you would come to the conclusion that Free Trade would compel us to work for the same pay, and be satisfied with the same profits and interest that prevail in the country we trade with ; in fact we shall have to be satisfied , with less, because money alone can pla/:e goods in our stores that will drive a colonial manufacturer out of his own market. Of course, we could carry protection too far, and protect things that will not pay to manufacture here." Tnere is consiclcrablo confusion kere, caused by the writer flying a- Free Trade like a bull at a red.blanket. Free Trade, I giant, has a levelling tendency which should make it acceptable to democrats and trades-unionists, but it could never pro duce the results named unless the countries were also equal in point of pro ductive power, taxation, laud legislation, density of population, Ac. Hf this, indeed, mv friend seems to have a glimmering, for he says, further on, Btill in the'delighttully dogmatic style of the superior person :— "If you were to study land value, and what causes it, and what misery it has caused, you would come to the conclusion that Free Trade is only a partial remedy fer poverty caused by land value- Competi

tion among ourselves will keep profits at their proper level. VVe leave one business to go into another if it promises a better return for capital or labour, but for good ness sake don't ask us to compete with badly governed countries, that sutler hard times and work for nothing."

1 will leave the subject here, satisfied with the iucidcntal admissions that Free Trade is at leant a " partial remedy " for the evils which afllict society, and Unit, it is possible to carry Protection too far. I hope my island friend will, by a mote dispas sionate study of the subject, be le<l to modify his view* still further. Political economy is colled "the dismal science," and I only fear that in dipping into it I have somewhat wearied the reader who turns to these columns for something light and airy. Let me h*ve this parting "shot" j before 1 quit the dreary theme :—Two men cast on an uninhabited island is a favourite supposititious case with political economists, and from the circnDistances of these two men tbe whole science can bo illustrated and made clear ; but I never yet heard that a desolate island was a favourable spot for pursuing the study, or otherwise rtobineou Crusoe would have taken tbe place occu pied by Adam Smith as the prince of political economists. xxx The following authentic anecdote of the late Primate of New Zealand -Bishop t-elwyn — shows that he was not above punning :—ln the year 184S or thereabouts, he had occasion to inspect certain property at t<t .lohn's College, and. proceeding with tbe R-jv. Mr L ,he crossed tho college lake aud landed on the opposito side, wish ing to examine the soil beyond the swampy margin of the lake, Mr L suggested, with crafty forethought, that a bumble pri.st should at least not go before a Bishop, and the letter, who hated anything like making another lead, risked the swampy ■ looking footing, which proved knee-deep in .places. Mr L , profiting by His Lordebip's " prospecting " the solt places, f.sreil better, and bis quiet laughter was turned into more hearty merriment by the sudden disappearance of the Bishop, save from his chest upwards, in a hole. The Bishop joined in the kugb., and on Mr L reaching a fiiciidly hand, His Lord ship said : "I think if I ever am translated, I ought to be made Bishop ot Bath and Wells,"

Eureka ! I have found it out at last-. My doubts are resolved, my fears allayed, and my mind tranquilised ! Let me explain the why and wherefore of this ecstatic jubilation. For several weeks past, gentle and unsophisticated reader, I have been labouring under an accesa of ht. Jacob's oil, and metaphorically have had it on the brain. Look where I would, and go whither I listed, the accursed subject was continually being forced upon roe. I seemed to live in an atmosphere pervaded by the unctuous nostrum, to inhale it with every breatb, to scent it at evsry corner, and to see in every stranger whom I met a bloodthirsty agent frantically pushing its sale. Wherever I turned my eyes in passing along the streets they were euro to be encountered by garish-colonred cartoons, illustrating in one way or another the miraculous properties and extraordinary effects of the saintly Hebrew panacea; at home in the evenings when I unfolded the STAR in placid contentment, and prepared to discuss its budget of news over the accompanying solace of a pipe, my atten. tion was certain to be first arrested by a sensationally headed paragraph which opened with one or two sentences of start ling import, and then abrnptly dropped me I upon the unspeakable Jacobian oil; at 1 the Upera Uon.ee I was presented with an elegant four-leaved programme full of mar ginal references to the übiquitous com pound, and backed with a full page of flattering recommendations from public men; and, to complete my disgust, the per formers " gagged " on the same tantnlisiog theme to an alarming extent. i>eed 1 add that in sheer desperation I grabbed ray hat, "girded up my lions," "and fled the scene. X x x Having survived these experiences, I becsrae devoured with an insatiable curiosity to probe the mystery to the bottom, and ascertain how this tremendous influx of oil had been brought about. Diligent enquiry soon placed me in posses sion of the facts that the patriarchal lubri cant was an American specific for aches and pains, that it waß manufactured by a firm who were spending large, sums in advertising it, that at the time of tho Melbourne Exhibition they despatched a host of agents to overrun tho colonies ; nnd that Mrs Dr. Potts is responsible for its introduction here. I also learnt that the cartoons are distributed broadcast, and that ono especial feature in the scheme of advertising is to ofter to supply operatic and -dramatic companies with their nightly programmes gratuitously, provided the agents are allowed to fill up the back page as they plense. The professionals, of [ course, take very kindly to the idea, and hope it may prosper. There is one point upon which lam still unenlightened. Who is St. Jacob, and how comes he to bo asso ciated with, a healing oil ? la his name to be found amongst the catalogue of saints, or has the Israelitlsh patriarch b >en recently canonised ia the United States ? _ At any rate, a son of Levi has been appointed the local agent. Indulgent reader, one more word. Dispel, if you have it, the base suspicion that this is a cheap advertise ment, and lan agent in disguise. I pro teat my innocence. xxx Matrimonial advertisements from young ladle 3in search of beanx have appeared so frequently in the newspapers lately t that I had actually arrived at the conclu sion that the recent importations of females had placed marriageable bachelors at a discount, a discovery which has been revealed to me places the matter in quite a different light. It would appear that there is, in one of the suburbs, a " maiden fair to see," who ha 3 amassed a large collection of gentlemen's photos, by the simple process of expending a shilling occasionally in a matrimouiul advertise ment. The enunciation of imaginary charms, and a quiet hint of possible worldly wealth, brought scores of letters from anxious and sighing swains, many of them containing photos.,, to her letter box. The maiden is not satisfied with the little swindle which she has been in the habit of perpetrating, but the portmits of those of the "soft ones " with whom she is acquainted are occasionally sub mitted for the criticism of her female friends. The game has, however, been played out, and some of the would-be lovers, are threatening the pains and penalties of the law to recover their " art treasures."

CHOICE EXTRACTS.

Soft words, warm friends; bitter words, lasting enemies. There's a wide ditch between saying and doing; and people do not always get over it. Make life a ministry of love, and it will always be worth living. If the ages of human beings were to be reckoned only by hours and days well spent, most of us would be in our infancy. Cast your nets in the right water, and they may take fish while you are sleeping. It Is absolutely needful for one to be humbled and prostrated and thrown among the pots from time to time, Life ia a ichool; we are perverse scholars to the last, and require the rod. There isonly nowand then an opportunity of displaying great courage, or even great wisdom ; but every hour in the day offer* a' chance to show our good nature. A vain man in high station is like a man in a balloon—everybody appears little to him, and he appears little to everybody. Do not despise the opinion of the world; you might as well Bay that you care not for tbe light of the sun because you can use a candle. As the sail, however rich it may be, can not be productive without culture, so the mind without cultivation, can never pio duce a good fruit. Write your name by kindness, love, and mercy in the hearts of thousands you come in contact with year by year, and you will never be forgotten. He alone is wise who can accommodate himself to all the contingencies of life ; but the fool contends, and is struggling like a swimmer against the stream. Learn to win a woman's fallh. Nobly, as tho thing is high ; Bravely, as for life and death. With a loyal gravity. — Mrs Browning.

' It has been well said that no man ever sank under the burden of the day, It is whoa to-morrow's burden ia added to the burden of to-day that the weight it more than men can bear.

Nature seems to ex'st for the excellent, The world is upheld by the veracity of good men. They make tbe earth wholesome. Life is sweet and tolerable in our belief in such society, and, actually or ideally, we manage to live without superiors.

What if you fail in business? You still have life and health. Don't sit down and cry about mishaps, for that will never get you out of debt nor buy your children f roe**. Go to work, eat sparingly, dress moderately, drink nothing exciting, keep a merry heart, and youT riae again.

It is not accident that helps a man in the world so much aa purpose and persistent in dustry. To the feeble, the sluggish, and tbe purposeless, the happiest .accidents will avail nothing—they pass them by, seeing no meaning ia them.

A mother teaching her child to pray is an object at once the most sublime and tender the imagination can conceive. Elevated above earthly things, she seems like one of those guardian angels, the companions of our earthly pilgrimage, through whose ministration we are inclined to do good and turn from evil.

Every year steals something away from us ; in one we lose a relation, in the next a friend; health grows more precarious, and next alluring, till by degrees the whole mass of happiness we had been gathering drops from ns insensibly, and that grave which we had on* looked upon with so much horror becomes at last our refuge and shelter.

An Extraordinary Prediction.- It is recorded of the poet Drydcn, by Charles Wilson, in his " Life of Congreve," that having, strange to say, belief in astrology, he was careful to ascertain to the second the time at which bis son Charles was born. He then calculated the boy's nativity, and was alarmed to discover that evil influences prevailed in the heavens—Jupiter, Venus, and the sun being below the earth, and the lord of his ascendant aillicted with a baleful square of Mars and Saturn. He concluded that in his eighth year, and on the day of birth, his son's life would be seriously endangered, if not lost; and that if be lived the same danger would exist when be attained his twenty-third birthday, and agaia on his thirty-third or fourth. On the boy's eißhth birthday, despite every pre caution to keep the boy from every possible danger, he was nearly lulled by the fall of a wall. On his twenty-third birthday ho was seized with giddiness and fell from an old tower belonging to tho Vatican at Kome; and he was drowned at "Windsor while swimming across the Thames in his thirty-third year. — "The World of Wonders."

A Sermon to one Man,—Some of the moat striking instances of success in our Lord* ministry were in connection with the smallest audiences. So is it with His servants now. In the early part of bis career Dr. Ly man Beecher once engaged to preach for a brother minister, whose church was in a remote district, peopled by a sparse and scattered population, it was in mid winter ; tho day was unusually stormy and cold, and the snow lay so deep in some E laces that he could scarcely proceed. On is arrival, although ho saw uo one, he took his seat ia the pulpit. Presently one man camo in and sat down, and at the ap pointed hour the preacher began, Tho service was closed with tho benediction, when the solitary hearer departed, and left the preacher alone. Twenty yeais after, Dr. iJoecher was travelling in Ohio, when a stranger accosted him by name, and, much to his surprise, said they had once spent two hours together in a house alone in a storm. "Do you remember preaohing," said ho, " twenty yaars ago, to one man ?" " Yes, yos," said the doctor, grasping his hand, " that 1 do ; and if you arc the man, I have boen wishing to see you ever since." "I am the man," was tho reply, "and that sermon saved my soul, made a minister ot me, and yonder is my church i The con verts of that sermon, Bir, arc all over Ohio 1"

SELECTED POETRY.

GOLD.

A treasure lies In Nature's breast, Which utters forth nor sound nor voice, Which beams of comfort and of rest. And makes the heart rejoice. Deep "buried in the rifted hills— ' But not too deep for man's emprise; Among the curves of sunless rills Tbe golden treasure lies. For this the miner risks his powers, And del Yes in caverns dark and deep; . Through nights serene and pmriess hours, While others calmly sloop. X'en though Heavon'a glorious orb of light Unveila, the splendours of the day, Ho fails with all his burning might To shadow Hold's display. Men pass the sweet unvarnished flower, And rush towards tho busy mart. To pay to gold's entrancing power Tho homage of tho heart. O'er stormy oceans thousands come, As anxious thousands came before, From all the loves and joys of homo, To dig for golden ore. Gold I—There is maglo in the word,— A charm boyoud tho poet's fume, That moves the spirit's doepest chord, And gilds the passion-flame. Among the more attractive means, Whioh Heaven for human woai decrees, God draws men forth from crowded scenes,. To lands across the seas. Gold boautifics tho barren spot, When with the stream of toil it flows; Aud cheers the honest labourer's 0 >t , With blessings from above. Gold tames tho pathless wilds of dearth. Which savage mon have darkly trod; And makes the solitudes of earth Tho paradise of God, — John Blackmail, O " HOWLING NORTH-EASTER! Wind to tho front of us, Wind to tho back of us, . Wind to tho right of us, Wind to the lelt of us, Howling Northeaster I Chimney-pots (lying, Wood palings tumbling, Cold people tippling. With nose unbecoming. Right in the truth of us, Aching tho bonea ol us, Dimming tho eyes of xn, Howling North-easter! Draught though tho window is, Keyhole and crevlcos; j Driod-up the early loaf, •' - Latent the coming sheaf, Howling North-easter! Ladies' skirts taking Shapes unavailing; Neat ankles showing To bleared eyes peeping. Limbs that are stonder, liairns that are tender, Frozon the toes ot 'em Damp is tho nose of 'em, Cutting North-oaster, Howling North-easter, Blow tho North-easter 1

FATHER WILLIAM.

Tim following is one of the parodies on Southey's poem, "Father William and his Son," for which " Truth " offered a two-guinea prize. It Is scarcely necessary to oxplain that '• People's William" ia Mr Gladstone, and his interlocutor is Lord Rudolph Churchill :— "Oh, say. People's William," tho young lord cried, " Whs your ooltarsaro fashioned so high? Is it farjy or policy, virtue or pride, That flakes them thus point up to the sky 3" " My collars are high," People's William replied, " My ears from the cold to defend; Vyours were oxtended those organs to hide, Who shall say where your collars would end?' " Your eye It rolls wildly," the young lord said, " As in March rolls the oye of tho hare: Your looks in disorder stand up on your head, Your brain is affected, I swear." "My eye may woll roll," Peoplo's William replied, ■ " To sco one so futile and vain; If aught that's all'ooted in you were descried, T were assuredly not in your brain." . " Your trip to the South," said the young noble man, "Has Bavcd ua from oceans of rant; I Let us hope that the more you may see of your ! Cannes Tho less we may hoar of your cant." "Oh, list," aaid tho eago, "to tho accents o£ truth, And lay them to heart, if you can; In all the wido world you're the toolishoßt youtb, And I am the Grandest Old Man."

THE WRITER OF "HOME, SWEET HOME."

A stranger In London, all friendless, nlono. Ho walked through the city, unheoded, un known; Tho lights of tho houses Bhono forth on his faco, There were thousands of homes, but for him was no place. Aweary ana hungry, disheartened and sad, Tho lime had been long since his spirit wa3 glad. And he sat on tho steps at a nobleman's door. And (or solace ho sang tho refrain o'er and o'er, " Home, Homo, sweet, awoet Home, Be it over so humble, there's no place liko Home." Ho had not a shilling to pay for a bed. When he wroto what in luxury many have said, " "Mid pleasures and palaces though wo may roam, Be it never so humble, there's no place liko home." Tho words full of cheer from his sorrows wcro wrung, Ho sighed, what In thankfulness others haro sung, "A charm from tho skios sooms to hallow us there, Whioh sack through tho world is not met with elsewhere; Home; Homo, sweet, sweot Home, Be it ever so humble, there's no place liko Homo." Old London looked fair to Ills oyos grown dim, But the lights of tho city no welcome cave him, " An exile from home, splendour dazzloa in vain. Oh, give mo my lowly thatched cottage again." So sang tho poor stranger, and went on his way. But millions of voices have sung since that " Tho birds singing gaily that came at my call, Give those and tho pcnco of mind doaror than all, Homo, Homo, sweet, sweet Home. Bo it over so humble, there's no place like Home." Did it need that' ono heart through deep anguish should learn That others tho truth might moro swiftly dis cern? A (dump ot lovo by the singor was-won, Our homes are tho dearer for him who had none 1 We weep for tho exile that longed for a home, And yet was compelled a wanderer to roam. But ho had sonio rapture to banish his pain. As he hunrd in all lands the rainiliar retrain, "Home, Homo, sweet, sweet Home, Bo it ever so humblo, there's iv place like. Homo." Hut tho toil and tho sorrow nro over at last, And tho jourueyß and loneliness ihinys ot tho past; America finds him with honour n gravo, And Knglaud above him tho laurels would wave; lii all climes and conntrios tho man has his fame, And old men nnd children aro speaking bis name. But tho beat of all is ho no longer shall roam, The homeless, tired stranger at length is at homo. " Homo, Homo, swoet, swoot Homo, Bo It over so humblo, thero's no place liko Homo." Marianne FABKmraiiAM.