HOW THE POOR LIVE.

A GREAT sensation has been created by the ro-publication in a cheap form of George R. Sims's remarkable papers on "How the Poor Live." I have collected a fow tit-bits from it which may serve to show how pain fully interesting tho brochure is. ~ , . Tho Little Sentinel. What do you think of this description of an attic in one of the rookeries of hlth and vice near tho Mint? .. . We have reached the attic, and in that attic wo see a picture whioh will be engraven on our memory for many a month to come.

The attic is almost bare ; in a broken fire place are some smouldering embers, a log of wood lies in front like a fondor. Thore is a broken chair trying to steady itself against a wall black with the dirt of ages. In one corner, on a shelf, is a battered saucepan and a piece of dry bread. On tho scrap of mantel still remaining embedded in tho wall is a rag; on & bit of cord hung across tho room aro more rags, garments of some sort, possibly ; a broken flower-pot props open a crazy window-frame, possibly to lot the smoko out, or in—looking at tho chimney pots below, it is difficult to say which ; and at one side of the room is a sack of Heaven knows what—it is a dirty, filthy sack, greasy and black and evil-looking. I can not guess what was in it if I tried, but what was on it was a little child—a noglected, ragged, .grimed, and bare-legged little baby girl of four. Tlicro sho eat, in the bare .squalid room, perched on the sack, erect, motionless, expressionless, on duty.

She was "a little sentinel," left to guard a baby that lay asleep on tho bare boards behind her, its head on its arm, the ragged remains of what had been a shawl flung over its legs.

That baby needed a sentinel to guard it, indeod. Had it crawled a foot or two it would have fallen head-foremost into that unprotected, yawning abyss of blackness below. In case of some such proceeding on its parts, tho child of four had been left "on guard."

Tho furniture of tho attic, whatever it was like, had been seized the week before for rent. The little sentinel's papa—this we unearthed of the "deputy" of tho house later on—was a militiaman and away ; the little sentinel's mamma was gone out on " a arrand," if it was anything like her usual " arra-ids," the deputy below informed us, would bring her homo about dark, very much the worse for it. Think of,; that little child, keeping guard on that dirty sack for six or eight hours at a stretch— think of her utter loneliness in that bare, desolate room, every childish impulse checked, left with orders " not to move or I'll kill yer," and sitting there often till night and darkness came on, hungry thirsty, and tired herself, but faithful to her trust to tho last minutoof tho drunken mother's absence. "Bless yer! I've known that young un sit there eight 'our at a stretcll. I've seen her there of a mornin" when I've come up to sec if I could git tho rint, and I've seen her there when I've come agin'at night," says tho deputy. "Lor, that, ain't nothin'—that ain't."

Nothing ! It is one of the saddest pic tures I have seen for many a day. Poor little baby-sentinel, left with a human lite in it* solo charge at four, neglected and overlooked. What will its girl life bo when it grows old enough to think ? I should liko some of the little onos whose every wish is gratiticd, who have but to whimper to have, and who live surrounded by loving, smiling face.*, and tended by gentle hands, to see the child in the bare garret sitting sentinel over the sleeping baby on the floor, and budging never an inrh throughout the weary day from the place that her mother had bidden her stay in. With our minds full of this pathetic picturo of child-life in tho "Homes of the Poor," wo descend the crazy staircase, and get out into as much light as can lind its way down these narrow alleys. A Strange Tale.

There is a licensed lodging-houPe, where you can be accommodated for 4d or Gd a night. This payment gives you during the day the privilege of using tho common kitchen, nnd it is into tho common kitchen we are going. We walk into the passage, and are stopped by a strapping yonng woman of about eight find twenty. Sha is the deputy. "What do we want?"

Once again the password is given, and tho attitude of tho lady changes. She formally conducts us into a large room, where tho strangest collection of human beings are crowded together. It is sheet washing day, and there is a great fire roaring up the chimney. Its ruddy glare gives a Tlembrandtish tone to the picture. Tables and forms run round tho room, and there is not a vacant place. Men, women, and children are lolling about, though it is mid-day, apparently with noth ing to do but make themselves comfortable. Tho company is not a pleasant one. Many of tho men and women and boys arc thieves. Almost every form of disease, almost evory kind of deformity, seems crowded into this Chamber of Horrors. The features are mostly repulsive ; an attractive face there is not among the' CO or 70 human beings in the room. Some of them are tramps ami hawkers, but most of them are pro fessional loafers, picking up in any way that presents itself the price of a night's lodging. They are a shifting population, and rarely remain in one house long. Some of them only get a night in now and then as a luxury, and look upon it as a Grand Hotel episode. Thoy sleep habitually in the open, on the staircases, or in tho casual ward. The house we are in is ono where Nancy and Sikes come often enough when they are down on their luck. Hero is a true story of this very placo, which will pevlmns illustrate sufficiently the typo of its fre quenters.

Some time last year two men left the lioupo ono morning. They were going into tho country on business. One, whom I will call John, kissed his mistress, a girl of twenty, and said "ftood-bve, ". leaving her at tho house; ho wouldn't bo away long, and he and Bill, his companion, sot out on their travols. ■ i

A clay or two after Bill returns" nlone: the girl asks him whero her sweetheart is. " Ho's lagged," says Bill. But tho girl has a bit of newspaper, and in it who roads that "tho body of a man has boon found in some woods near London ;" and sho has an idea, it may be John. " Oh, nonsense," says Bill I quote tho evidence—"he then lit his candle, and they retired to rest." John, as a matter of fact, had been murdered by his companion, they having quarrelled ovor tho division of the proceeds of the burglary ; and eventually this young woman, who so readily transferred her affections from ono lord to another, appeared in the witness-box and deposed to pawning boots and other things for Bill, which were undoubtedly the proceeds of a robbery at a house close to whero the body was found.

This is the house in which we stand where the burglary was planned—whence the murderer and the murdered set out together on their fatal journey. It was at ono of theso tables that the young girl dis cussed hor absent lover's fate with her new lord, his murderer.and it was hero that the police came to search for him and found the girl whose evidence helped to hang him.

Mrs O'Flannigan.

Hero is the home of tho most notorious " drunkardess"—if I may coin a word—in the neighbourhood. Mrs O'Flannigan's room is easily entered, for it is on the street level, and one step brings us into the presence of the lady herself. She is in bed; a dirty red flannel rag is wrapped about her shoulders, |and her one arm is in a sling. She Bits up.-in bed at the sight of visitors, and greets us in a gin and fog voice slightly mellowed -witk the Irish brogue.. Biddy has. been charged at the police courte seventy-five times with being drunk, -ana she is therefore* a celebrated character. She is.* hardly sober now, though she lias evidently had a shaking which would have sobered most people fora month. Her face is v jnjiHs of bruises and cuts, and every • now and then a groan and a cry to certain H saints in her calendar tell of aches and pains in the limbs concealed under under the dirty blanket that covers the bod.

"I'm a pretty sight no w,ain'tl,gintlcmen dear ?" she says, with a foolish laugh. "Shure and I got blind drunk again last Saturday, and. they. run. me in. The in spector let me out o' Sunday: God blese him for a rale gintleman. They carried me on a stretcher, bless yer hearts, and I kicked. Ha !ha!ha !" The hag posi tively yelled with laughter as she thought of the scene she caused and the trouble she gave the police.

Suddenly ehe looks round as if in search of something. " Molly, ye young varmint, where are ye ? " she. shouts, and presently, from under the bed, -where it lay crouching in fear, she drags a child, a wretched little girl of seven or eight, with, its face and head covered with sores, that make one shudder to look at them.

" There, Molly, ye young varmint, show yourself to their honours, will ye 1" The child begins to snivel. One of our number is the Board School officer of the district, and Molly has not been to school lately. - ■ ■ •»

Mrs O'Flannigan explains. " Ye see, I can't use my limbs just yet, yer honour, and Molly—Lord love her ! — ■ she's just tho only thing I got to lookafther me. I might be burned in my blessed bed, yer honour, and not able to move."

" You should give up getting drunk," I ventured to suggest, "then you wouldn't want a nurse."

" You're right, your honour. It's the drink. Yer see, I can't help it. I ain't been sober for five years—ha ! ha ! ha ! — and it's all thro' the trouble as come to me. My boy got into bad company and got lagged and put away for ten years, and I've never been the same since, and it broke my heart, and I took to tho drink. And now my old man's took to tho drink thro' aggra vation o' me, and he gets drunk every night of his bleßsed life. Ha !ha!ha !"

The woman's story is practically true. Before her trouble sho and her husband were costermongers and hawkers of fruit. The first of the evils of the foul slums where honoet workers are forced to live, fell upon them in the ruin of the boy reared in a criminal atmosphere. The vicious surroundings were too strong for him, and he became a thier and paid the penalty. The mother sees her son—idolised in her rough way—taken from her; the don of a home becomes doubly wretched, and the cursed drink-fiend is invoked to charm the sorrow away. That is the first etep "to drown sorrow." The steps after that are easy to count. The woman becomes an habitual drunkard, tho.rooms they live in get dirtier and smaller and fouler, and at lust the husband drowns his sorrow too. " Aggravation " and a constant association with a drunken woman turn the poor follow to evil ways ; himself and a whole family are wrecked, that under better cir qumstanees might have been good and useful citizens. Had these people been able to get a decent room among decent people, the first misfortune that sent them wrong might never havoJmppened. ■ Their case is the case of hundreds. A Curious Wedding. A clergyman's wife who took intense in terest in a young couplo living together in a room in the Mint determined to make them got married. Tho young fellow earned fair wages, and was sober and steady ; the girl kept her room and her two little child ren clean and decent, and was always civil spoken and pleasant. The good lady who had the entree of the place talked to the young man whenever she saw him, and he admitted at last that, perhaps, the union might as well bo made a legal one—" Not that tno and Sail 'ull g:■., on any better, you know mum, wo couldn't; but since you've been on at her she seems to have a bit o' fancy for to have the marridge lines, and if you'll toll us how, we'll get it done and over, missis."

Delighted with the promise, the lady Bet to work and prepared everything. Sho gave the bride a new gown to lie married in, and made frocks for the two little ones to come and boo their father married ; she nrrnnged with her husband to perform tho ceremony, and last, but most important, she got the young man a day's holiday without lob 3cf pay from his employers. The eventful day arrived; the good eoul beaming and elated, waited, with a few friends invited to see the interesting ceremony at the church. The clergyman stood with his book at the altar, but no young couple. Twelve o'clock struck, the clergyman went into the vestry, and put his coat on ; and bitterly disappointed at the failure of her little scheme, the good lady sat on for an hour, thinking some delay might have occurred, but after a while she gave it up us a bad job, and departed also.

That evening, in as a towering a rage as a cleryman's wife could decently be, she marched off to the Mint, and tackled tho delinquents at once. "What did thoy mean by it!"

Tho young man was very civil and very apologetic. "He didn't moan to bo rude, but tho fact was, a mate hearin' he'd got a day off offered him a job at carting as was worth iivo bob; and you know, mum, I couldn't lose fivo bob j ust for the sake- o' gottin' married." .'■..•

I am happy to say ; that the energetic lady set; to work again, got another holiday for the man a week after, and this time " pevsonally conducted" the wedding party to tho church, which they did not leave tiil the young woman was the proud possessor of that by no means common property in tho locality, a marriage certificate. 'Appy Dossers. Tho " 'appy dossers " aro the wretched people who roam about the street houseless, and creep in to sleep on the stairs, in tho passages and untenanted cellars of the lodging-houses with the doors open night and day. No policeman's lantern is ever tufned on them, and they crowd together in their rags and make a jolly night of it. Sometimes in among them creeps a starving woman, to die from want and exposure; and she dies while the foul oath and the ribald jests go on ; and the " doßsers " who are well enough to be " 'appy " make such a noise that a lodger, disturbed in hiß legi timate rest for which he has paid, comes out and lays about him vigorously at the "varmints," and kicks them down stairs, if he can.

Thus not only are many of the licensed lodging-houses and homes of the poor breed ing houses in themselves for crime, disease, and filth, but they are, for lack of super

vision, receptacles for that which has al ready been bred elsewhere, and which is deposited gratis to swell the collection. A " 'appy dosser" can make himself comfortable anywhere. I heard of one who used to crawl into the dust bin, and pull the lid down ; but I know that to be an untruth, from the simple fact that none of the dust bins on this class of property have a lid. Tho contents are left, too, for months to decompose, not only under the eyes of the authorities, but under the noses of the inhabitants. The sanitary inspection of these houses is a farce, and in many cases the vestrymen, who ought to put the law in motion, are themselves the owners of the murder-traps. Sick and Starving. If you could bring yourself to imagine truthfully the condition of the sick poor without the hospitals, to go to,you would see a picture of human misery so appalling that you would cover your eyes and turn away from it with a shudder.

Yet there aro such pictures to be seen. There are cases which, from varying circum stances, do not go to the hospital. There are men and women who lie and die day by day in these wretched single rooms, sharing all the family trouble, enduring the hunger and the cold, and waiting without hope, without a single ray. of comfort, until God curtains their staring eyes with the merci ful film of death.

It was such a case we came upon once in our wanderings, and which, without unduly harrowing the reader up, I will endeavour to describe.

The room was no better and no worse than hundreds of its class. It was dirty and dilapidated, with the usual bulging blackened ceiling, and the usual crumbling greasy walls. Its furniture was a dilapi dated four-post bedstead, a chair, and a deal table. On the bed lay a woman, young, and with features that before hourly anguish had contorted them had been comely. The woman was dying slowly of heart disease. Death was "writ large" upon her face. At her breast she held her child, a poor little mite of a baby that was drawing the last drain of life from its mother's breast. The day was a bitterly cold one ; through the broken casement the wind came ever and anon in icy gusts, blowing the hanging end of the ragged coverlet upon the bod to and fro like a flag in a breeze. The wind roared in the chimney too, eddying down into the tireless grate with a low howling noise like the moan of a Banshee round a haunted hou.se. To protect the poor woman from the cold her husband had flung on it his tattered great coat —a garment that the most ancient four - wheel night cabman would have spurned as a knee protector. " He was a plumber," she whispered to us in a weak, hollow voice ; " he had been out of work for a week, and lie had gone out to try and look for a job." One shivered to think of him wearily trudging thestreets this bitter day, half clad and wholly starved. What must have been his torture as he failed at place after place, and day wore on and brought the night when he would have to return to the poor dying wife with the old sad story ?

As one realised the full meaning of this little domestic tragedy, and knew that it was only one of many daily enacted in the iichest city in the world, the scene of it lay not a mile from the full tide of all the pomps and vanities of fashion, of all the notorious luxury and extravagances which is the outward show of our magnificence and wealth, it was hard to repress a feeling of something akin to shame and anger— shame for the callous indifference which bids one half the world ignore the suffer ings of the other—anger that with all the gold annually borne along on the broad stream of charity, so little of it ever reaches the really deserving and necessitous poor. The house this poor woman lay dying in was one of a block which would have been a prize to a sanitary inspector anxious to make a sensational report. For the room in question the plumber out of work had to pay four and sixpence, and the broken pane of glass the landlord had refused to replace. The man was told "he must do it himself, or if he didn't like it as it was he could RO." A Day in the Country. I will now end with a little incident of which I was an eye-witness this week. Some poor children of the slums had " a day in the country given them" by a friend, at which I had the privilege of being pre sent. At tea, to every little one there were given two large slices of cake ; I noticed one little boy take his, break a little piece oil", eat it, and quietly secrete the remainder in "his jacket pocket. Curious, and half suspecting what his intention was, I followed the lad when tea was over, to the fields.

" Eaten your cake yet I" I said. " No, sir," he answered, colouring as though he had done something wrong. " What are you going to do witli it?" "Please sir," ho stammered, " I'm goin' to take it 'ome to mother. She's ill and can't eat nothink, and I thought as she mi^ht manage cake, sir."

In the train that brought those young sters down came one white-faced child, who looked faint and ill with the walk to the station.

The head teacher, who has the history of the child at her finger's ends, saw what was the matter.

" Had no breakfast to-day, Annie ?" " No, ma'am," was the faltering; reply. There was a crowd of poor mothers at the station come to see the children off. One went out and presently retained with a penny, which she pressed into the child's hand—to buy herself something with. The woman had pawned her shawl for a copper or two in sheer womanly sympathy. Had she had the money about her she needn't have loft tho station.

There was a good deal of pawning tlwit morning, I know, from an eyo-witness, and all to give the little children a copper or two to spend.

And what n struggle there had been to get them something decent to wear for that grand day out! If all the stories were written that could be told of the privations and sacrifices endured by mothers, that Sally and .Tane and Will might look res pectable at the treat, your "heart would ache. ' As I don't wish it to, we will not go into the matter.

" Well, to tell the truth, papa, I did not think much ofthe close of the sermon," said n fashionable young lady. "Probably you were thinking more of the clothes of the congregation," replied her father. A gentleman who is an enthusiastic be liever in the aeronautical problem being solved by individual effort, and thinks that to should be able to regulate our flight through the atmosphere by our own volition has recently (" St. Stephen's Review" says) devoted much attention to this idea, and, it is needless to add, spent a large amount of money on his " fad. " He started to ffy on Tuesday last, and his satin wings, worked by a powerful lever set in motion by a minia ture steam engine, propelled him forward, but not upward. As there was a stream of water about fifty yards in front of the path waydown which he was speeding, his friends ran alter him, stopped the engine, and pro A bably saved his life. The gentleman is out! well known in society.

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, JANUARY 19, 1884.

7



"VT O W READ y. li BRETT'S /COLONISTS' ftUIDE JJRETT'S V^OLONISTS1 \JTUIDE AND r^YCLOP^EDIA OF TTTSEFUL V/YCLOPiEDIA OK U SEFUL KNOWLEDGE » NOWLEDGE, BKINO A COMPENDIUM OF INFORMATION BY PRACTICAL COLONISTS UPON FARMING, ! HORTICULTURE, AND ALL SUBJECTS OF INTEREST TO NEW ZEALAND SETTLERS. Edited by Thomson W. Leys The above work, which contains 830 pages and is profusely illustrated with engravings comprises sections on:— THE FARM, BY Tiiomas Allen : Direction for Bush and Fern Land; Growth of vari ous Cereal and Root Crops; Managemont ol Cattle, Sheep, and Horses, with Cure oi their Diseases, etc., etc. This section, which contains 217 closely-printed pages, with many diagrams and illustrations, including specimens of tho best puro-bred horses.sheep, and cattle, together witli selections from the Stud and Pedigree Stock Company's thoroughbred stock, comprises the carefully collated experienco of somo of tho most successful Auckland and Canterbury Farmers. HORTICULTURE, by W. Goldie: In this section, which covers XXi pages, with numer ous illustrations, special attention is paid to the management of Fruit Trees, with such simple directions and diagrams for Pruning, Grafting, Budding, etc., that any settler, without-previous knowledge or skill, can manage his orchard profitably. POULTRY, by Thomas Allen : This section, comprising II pages, gives specimens of the best varieties of Poultry, with directions for their Management, Designs o£ Fowl-houses, Treatment of Diseases, etc USEFUL MECHANICAL CONTRIVANCES. 31 Pages: Under this heading have been classed a variety of contrivances, which will bo found useful to the settler; hints and helps for the bush; cheese presses, carts, fences, gates, measuring and splitting tim ber, measuring garments, erecting walls and banks, windmills, &c, &c PRESERVING AND STORING, SO Pages: Includes tho best methods of storing, drying, bottling, canning, and preserving fruit; the most approved modes of curing bacon and hams, with design for smoke-house; instruc tions for pickling, sauces, vinegar-making, Sec. &c. INSECTS AND AGRICULTURAL ENE MIES, by Capt. Broux : In this section, Captain Broun, the well-known New Zea land entomologist, supplies tho results of years of observation upon native and im- ported insects, useful and injurious, with illustrations of the same, and directions for destroying garden and erchard pests. SCIENTIFIC BEE CULTURE, by J. Hop kins This interesting department has been fully and skilfully treated by Mr Hop kins, of Matamata, whose works on tho subject are well known throughout New Zealand. WINE-GROWING AND MANUFACTURE, Practical Arboriculture. Tobacco Culture, Hop Growing and Silkworm Rearing, with Cultivation of Olives, Tea, &c., are each exhaustively treated. THE FAMILY DOCTOR, by Da. Knight and Mr. J. A. Pond, of Auckland, comprises Treatises on both Allopathic and Homoeo pathic systems, compiled with special regard to Country Settlors. To it is appended a MAORI PHARMACOPOEIA, giving tho medicinal properties of New Zealand Bush Trees and Plants. COTTAGE COOKERY AND FOODS, covering 120 pages, is a complete Treatise on Cookery, according to the best methods, and com prises some thousands of easy receipts for tasty diehes, without tho flummery of ordi nary Cookery Books. HOUSEHOLD HINTS extend the information in tho Cookery Books with many usefu. directions on Household Management. COTTAGES FOR SETTLERS: Four designs of Useful Cottages, with plans and detailed Estimates, are given, so that the settler can simply copy the specification and send to the mill and procure the complete material for tho erection of his house. ALES, WINES AND SYRUPS, PAINTING, TANNING, SOAP-MAKING, and HINTS FOR PROSPECTORS, form separate sec tions, containing a largo amount of Valuable Information. LEGAL MEMORANDA, prepared by Mr Thomas Cotter, Auckland City Solicitor, giving a digest of all the laws which it is 'imperative for a settler to know, including Fencing Act, Scab in Sheep Act, Timber Floatage, Roods, etc., etc. The abovo recapitulation only enumerates the general Heads indicating the scope of the work. It is the largest Book ever published in Austral nsin ,\ is Handsomely Bou»d in Cloth, and published at an exceedingly |Low Price for a KvENTY aSH°rLLiNGsI^f PtiOn " *""**' Henry Brett, wyndham - street, PUBLISHER. Mr. R. ARMITAGE, High-street, hns been uipoLntccl Genebat. Canvassing Agent. \\ aitakorci. Tth December. ISS3. \ UCKLAND DEUTSCHER VEKEIN. Ueselligo Zusammenkiinfte jeden Mittworh Abend S Ulir ira Vcroins Zimmer. Park Hotel. Wollesley-stveet. Deutsche Zeitungcn und Tournale. Deutsche Bibliothok. J.A. • MAX KOBER, Schriftfuhrcr. STOP THAT COUGH! DON'T DELAY. How can you stop it? Where is tho Remedy! BONNNIGTOB'S "PECTORAL OX*fflEL CARRAGEEN OR IRISH MOSS (REGISTERED). Can produce more evidence of real merit than any other article for tho purpose. , G. BONNINGTON, Sold everywhere.l Christchurch. BOYS' VELOCIPEDES, 225; PERAMBULATORS. 16s: INVALID CARRIAGES, all kinds (Wholesale and netai!) ; BABY SLEKPJNG CARRIAGES: Also, BICYCLRS (best English make), ROCK ING HORSKS, &c R . ANDERSON, PAimAMATTA-STHEET^SyjDVKV. j Aw sLitUnl i'our i'r»"~



D. F. E V A N 8, ESTATE, HOUSE, AND LAND ABKNT, mo CAPITALISTS AND OTHERS. FIRST-CLASS INVESTMENT IN THIS CITY FOR SALE. All that Valuable and Centrally Sitnated Pro. perty, consisting of FREEHOLD ALLOTMENT together with Commodious Double Shop, Store room, and 5 Rooms upstairs, built of brick on Btone foundation, in first-class position, and well adapted for Solicitor's Chambers, being situated in Shortland-strect, near those handsome and extensive new premises in course of construc tion for the Evening Stab ; and also near the Post-office, banks, and those magnificent new block of buildings (the Arcade) now about to be erected for the New Zealand Insurance Com pany. , . This is a real first-class investment, and well. worthy the attention of capitalists. It is, with out doubt, the most valuable and safest invest ment now in the Market, with undeniable pros pective value, second to none In Auckland. Full particulars from D. F. EVANS, 857 ' Estate Agent, Queen-street. AUCKLAND.—City Property- valuable busi ness premises, situate in Shortland-street, near Post-office; grand position. (875) AHIPaRA. —-Valuable Grazing Farm ; good homestead; stock at valuation: together with about 20,0110 acres leasehold, ai vary low rental. (920) ARARIMU —173 acres, part improved, part bush. Lot 93, Opaheke. (950) AVONDALE.—22 acres Bplendid lana, mostly in ' grass; a large portion in orchard, and shelter trees; good creek. (351) AVONDALE.-18J acres rich alluvial land, fenced, partly ploughed iind in grass; fresh water stream : sea frontage ; good lignite on land. Price £35 per acre; half cash, balance at 8 per cent. (901) AMY-STREET, ELLKRSLIE. — 2 Splendid Allotments, having a frontage or about 251 feet. (841) BLAKE-STREET NKWTON.-Vcry comfort table verandah Cottape of 0 rooms; 2 fire places, colonial oven, &c., good well. Allot ment 33 x 50. Price, £230. (902) BURLKIGH-STREET - Near St Pepu'chre's Church. Good and substantial-built Villa of five rooms, fitted withe%Tery convenience. Nice position ; pretty place; nice garden: allotment 10X150. Cheap. (912) COMMERCIAL ROAD, off Groat North Koad. —5J acres; 2 acres paling fencer} anil planted with 300 fruit trees. Very cheap. (838) COMMERCIAL ROAD, off Great North Road. —New Verandah Cottage of 5 Itooms, Regis tered Grate, Cupboards, &c. Allotment 94 x 150. £100. (728) DAIRY FLAT—2SS acres good Land, part vol canic, bush, nice homestead oi' i rooms. Price. 32a 6d per acre (970) DBVONPORT. — Beach Road: 4 Dwelling houses ; 3 let at £50 each, and one at £60. First-class investment and very cheap. (839) EDWIN-STREET. ROCKYNOOIC.-Very nico little Cottago of 5 rooms: good volcanic al lotment. Price, only £250. EPSOM Villa Residence and Oroands Also, bplendid Building Allotments, near resi dence of E Hesketh, Esq. ( 75) ELLERSLIE —11J acres Volcanic Soil; good road frontage, near Racecourse. (954) GREAT SOUTH ROAD —1} acres andG-roomed House and out-buildingh oa tho main road, near Ellerslio Station Price. iGI!S. (i) 63) GEORGE AND WILLIAM STREETS, PON SONBY—Brick House of four rooms and scullery, outhouse, &c.; allotment, 33 x 132; £400. GREAT NORTH ROAD-About 5 miles from Auckland —A new and well-finished House of 6 rooms, stable, &c, and 3 aorns splendid land, in cultivation: bounded by a grand stream of water; more land if required. (319) HARGRAVES-STREET. off College Road.- Comfortable Villa of 5 rooms, "workshop, Fowl-bouee, &c; grand view; near tho city, and cheap. (949) ; MANGARE.—One of tho best little Grazing Farms in the province of Auokland. (042) • MONTAGUE-STRKET, NEVVTON.-New Six roomed Verandah Cottage, fitted with | register grates, colonial oven, cupboards. &c. Price. 280. . (719) MOUNT EDEN.-Handsome ilia of (! rooms, pantry, bathroom, etubio. ana oiner con veniences ; large allotment. Price, only £525. (359) ■ NORTHCOTK.—2>acresHomcstea<li'arni,.wire ' fenced: part in grass and crop ; maimroad frontage; splondid view ofllaibour. Price, £54i|. (9J5) NORTHCOTE. —1) a:res gool Land. Price only «2l per acre ,i9C) NEW LYNN. AVONDALK. —20 acres good loam; rising district. seven in ili>s by road ■ adjoining railway station. 4 aood Grass Paddocks fenced; misht be subdivide d with great advantage. A bargain 914 WEWMARKET.—New-Btreet: New Verandah House of 5 rooms; good well, tmk. &c; nice garden; allotment 48 x 120. Price only NELSON-S REET, CITY.—A very nice and commodious Hou-e of 8 rooms, having a grand view of harbour. Price, Mil) <979) ONEHUNGA.—HotiBe 7 rooms, in good order, good well, stable, &c., and two allotments; a great bargain. Price, £200. (86S) PAPAKUR* VALLEY. - 426 acres good alluvial land; partly fenced, and a portion improved; a splendid creek, through the property; about 3 miles from Railway Station. (812) POKKNO.- 189 acres Volcanic Land, nearly all level: 2G acres cleared and in good grass and fenced Price *2 per acre; a bargain. 943 PO'CENO.-Nice Little Farm of 21 acres, in crops, grass, &c.; good five roomed Cottage and outliouses, which, with 4 cows, dairy utensils. &c., &c is now offered for £300 situate just at Pokeno Station. (803) PROSPECT TKRRACE.-Handeomo Villa of Reams and i^orch: fitted with Cupboards, Dresner, Registered Grate, Oveu. &c; good well and tank, nice garden, welt-stocked. £360. (729) PUKBKOHB. — Splendid little Farm of 105 acres: unall piece of bunli; subdivided into paddocks, «;c : Brand Hircim of water through the property : good House G rooms: oairy. stoc-yard, &c. Price unly £800; part CHBh (930) PAPaRAT- VALL-<Y.MAU"RAT -WHIRL —1.3 acres Unimproved Bush Land at £2 per acre (972) R'MaR MA. 160 acres good mixed Land a sho tdistancafromDrury. Cheap at £3 103 per Here. ( ni) RAZORBACK—IB Acres Good Land. 28 acres in glass; cottago of three rooms, cow-shed, Piggery, &c; never-failing supply of water. Price, only £250. (G73) SB* KIEL!• VTKW. Claremont-srreet.-Veran dah Villa of G rooms, in good order, fitted with cupboards, dresser, register, oven, tank, well &<■.; good irarden ClxeaD (155) ST. MARY'S KOAD covuer of Dub'.in-siivet.— House of 5 rooms and scullery ;w>. 2 rooms detached; gas, tanks, So. Puco iSGS. (73!) I'AMAKI EAST.- Compact little Farm o£ 120 acres, of which 3D acres are in srast! Gar der BAjd orchard ; good piece oi. bush, and a rl" .!ul ripply cif water Hoi:3.> of 7 rooms ("• .Die. hh<-d H nd sunniy outhnlld lntrs £ ;.-. :ii Roort orde-. ' OI') VII WHO- ■'O ANDTHK TERR AOii; MOUNT I.DKV-A KirstclnsK liesiuuniw of 7rooms compl.'tc wit], every convenience, well laid outuroufidsabaur. 1 acre ■ fruit ;incl ilower garden. MnKnilic-nt view 1 1)15 VIKW ROAD MOUNT hDF.NT.-5 mioiuesi from Railway Station — A now 0-ivomed Two-otorey HuildinK, verandab?. haihroom water laid in : f 1 nit trees and vni;orab o gHidon. volcanic mould. Price. JEUiI. 94< •VVARK.W7iRTH.-OW Kstablialied aottrdlnß hou-e Business for sale. Firal-clusa oppor tuuity loßecuie a n-ally good paying con cern. Price only £500. WHANOARKI — 12> acres Improved land: ■ small piece kuun bush; Lot 51, i'au'-<"'oa, WH • G iR' I.- Improved Farm ot 143 acres at Maogupai; ii acres in Brass, and 6in orchard; dwelling house Cheap, £X n /QfiJ| WH»NG Rf IH<CAD^.-ParuaT!ay -friaores. purr, in urass and kp-nri; homestead farm; Rood road. Pi ice. £J2 ■ (961) WII T.WH Ta. - W..i pil River->'■ acrei Improved Farm : first-ciaSK res deuce; good orchard; charming property Price. £ .100. ■VVEI.LINGTOV - STRKKT. - Comfortable V«-randae Cottage of 4 rooms, in gool con dmon. Koom und.'rri<?ath fo:: KOod work tiop. Price, only £3,0 (910) D. F. EVA NS, Pjusk, Land, and Estate oCUiT, ' Land Mart-Queenstrett. :,';':;