A GRAVE STORY. OR A NIGHT WITH SPIRITS.

A TAME OF OLD AUCKLAND. Jt ' ■ By Mistletoe,

VERY one in Auckland knows the old windmill between the s City road and Symonds-street, surrounded by pretty villas with their trim gardens, from whence comes the odour of the modest violet, ; and the sweet-scented J mignonette; but not many now remember iit,*s it was f<brty years ago this Christmas, i when wooden shanties, conspicuous by the "'absence of paint, few and far between, raised their dipinished heads, while close , by .was Lawry'a brickyard with its muddy waterholes, and banks of white clay puddle. , gymonds-street! was then little better than o track, flanked tat either side by graves and wooden tombstomes, where those who were faking their last i^est were not then disturbed by the whirr of tramcars, the rumble of carriages, or the \ shouts of the Star boys selling the evening paper. .It was Christmas Eve, in the year of grace J847, and in a woodlen building near where ibe Caledonia Hotel, now stands. A happy • party had assembled, who had only a year before landed in Nep Zealand to seek their

fortunes in the' sunny clime of Auckland. Nifcaii leaves graced the wooden walls, ', while branches of the pohutukawa with '""i their glowing berries took the place of the mistletoe, in honour of "Old Father Cnrisfc mas. The party consisted of Mr Lawrence ' Green, an old, Irish gentleman from the county Tipperary, whose " a view-halloa " wonld be sorely missed by lovers of the hunting field from" the " Town o' Clo'mel to th.c Rock of Ca9hel;" his wife, Mary, once a Dublin belleand beauty; twostalwartyouths, .George and Charley, his sons ; his two j daughters, Ellen and Hannah—the former • who was at that moment seated in a rocking chair nursing a favourite cat, and the latter 'ona low stool patting an immense Newfound land dog. The hazel eyes of the one and the brown eyes of the other beamed with fun asd mischief, but showing at the same time a depth of feeling and deep womanly tender ness. A Mr and Mrs Dangan, with their two boys Jim and Jack, and their little Girty, a bright little child of three years or thereabouts, completed the party. From the .adjoining kitchen came an appetising ;'odour of a supper prepared by ould Biddy. McLaughlin, who, with her husband Mick, bad came out to " look afther the masther, an' mistress, an' the pigs, an'- the childer', Goi.bless 'em !" She was croning an old Irish!'ditty, occasionally interupted by a characteristic soliloquy, 'when? anything < went wrong " — , ■ - ' " An* ould Oirelan' shall be free, I - , Sez the Shan Van Vocht; ' ; An' O'Connell will be clAn? is wishin'ye bad manners I am for . a cat, for shure there's Miss Ellen, the crathur, -has used eight eaucers to-day to feed ye; an' the dickina a clane saucer I have, at all, at all, for the tay ! . , "An, O'Connell will be king . i ' Sez the Shan Van Vocht. ' An' thin— " Musba, but my heart is Tjroke entoirely "wid Miss Harisah, who is alway3 up to_her thricljs, the darlint; for here's a plate of hot ashesahe gi'J the dog jist now instead of its mate to make it sniff ; an' faith, an.troth itu something .else they ought to be thinkin' ay, 4ot isn't Maether John comin'all the way back from Sydney to marry Miss Ellen the gairl, an' Miss Hannah is brakjn' her heart, bekaae her ould sweetheart is in the ould , country, and nofc by her side here this night —on the other side of the wather." 3nt leaving aiild Biddy to her_ croning, and the party in the parlour enjoying .them jj ; selves, let us tell of a little episode that was 'beingenacted elsewhere." John Flynn who ' wasengaged to Ellen, had gone to Sydney to fill a lucrative situation, and had deter mined to return to Auckland to claim his bride. He had also, from having posted several letters from Hannah to her sweet heart, learned his address, and had written to Him,th6ugli they were quite strangers,to .Veome; out to Auckland, if possible, that 1 Christmas, and meet him, but neither were to let" the Green family know of their arrival until' they both met,; and then ; would Burprise them By an unexpected visit. .By ■a coincidence: one arrived from home the daybefore Christmas Eve, and the other by the . " William Denny " on the morning of.the day our story opens. It happened that a.fellow passenger of O'Connors, to whom he had got- very ranch attached on the voyage, had died just; as the vessel was rounding the North Head, and he offered to make arrangements for his funeral; also offering the old eexton of the Protestant ■cemetery to dig the grave, to which the old man gladly consented, as it would enable him .to spend his Christma3 Eve more genially. O'Connor had a double object in :this-to perform the last offices for his dead friend, and also enable him. to keep out ot the sight of the Greens until the arrival ot Flynn, as he knew they would net beL llkely ■ "to see him at work in a graveyard. 1 lynn, on arrival, hunted up O'Connor, whom he dedirldtbputup at Davy Sheehans Tra falgar Hotel, in Queen-stteefc, »and, finding out.wherg he was, bought a bottle of brandy for the " good of the house;" and after a . Mttle search found him acting as amatetir grkve-^igger, a little way down the hill ; from the centre gat© of the cemetery, in troducing himself, and after a hearty shake hands, they sat down on the edge ot tne pave, and exchanged mutual confidences; and were so interested in each other s con versation, that when night fell the grave ■: was not finished. They borrowed a lantern and another shovel from the sexton, in order that they might complete the jod before morning. And here we will leave them, and return to the Christmas party at the Greens. We will suppose the. sapper o'er, the table cleared to make room for tne "matharials," and all sitting in .easy attitudes, laughing at the racy anecdotes JOltiie genial host, and indulging in remi afeceiwes of old times and past Christmases, »d bright anticipations fo? the future.

Hannah was helping old Biddy to clear away the supper things, and Ellen was again in her rocking chair, humming to herself the plaintive air of " Eillen Aroon;" and just as she got to the end of the line—

"O sad was the day when my love and I parted," In rushed Biddy, who had gone for the " hot wather," exclaiming— " Oh, Masther ! Oh, Misthress ! some one is murdhered up there, yondher, beyant " "Murdered!" all exclaimed, "Mur dered !"

" Faix, the dickens the less. Don't you hear him, the unfortunate cratnur," said the old woman.

And sure enough a faint cooey was heard, but no one could tell the direction.

"Cooy, coo—o —ey," wes heard again, but still more faint.

"By Jove, its a cooey!" said George. " Someone has lost himself i"

"Nothing of the kind," said his father, "It strikes me its only the sentry at the barracks singing out, «All's well.'" "It is only the soughin' of the wind through the kahikateas at the other side of the cemetery," said Charley. "Or Major Greenwood's donkey braying in Stan ley-street," said Dangan. " Well," said Mrs Green, who was nothing if she wasn't practical, " why don't you go see, and not waste your time conjecturing. One of you boys get the lantern, and you father "

She didn't finish her sentence, being interrupted by Biddy who having opened the front door, staggered in, and throwing

herself in a chair, began stamping her feet on the floor, wringing her hands, and rock ing herself to and fro.

"Oh ! Ullagone ! Och, wirrasthrue ! It is a lone widow I am this night. Och! Mick ! Mick ! May the heavens be his bed this Christmas Eve, the blagnrd." "What is the matter, Biddy?" said Hannah, who with the others had gathered round the grief-stricken womani ' " Oh, Miss Hannah, allana ! that I should have lived.to see this day! There's my Mick, kilt entoirely, lying up in the tay tree, quite spachless, an' shoutin' out millia murdher at the tap ay his voice." " Don't be silly, Biddy;" said Mrs Green, "it is only someone that has lost himself coming up from town." .... _" Faix, it is himself that's in it. Shure, didn't he go down to Somerville's corner wid a message from the masther, an' he's losthimself comin'home, an'gofc murdhered. Arrah, Mick ! Mick ! I'll niver see ye agin, an' to go an' be afther dyin' on Christmas Eve. Oh, why didn't ye wait till afther the New Year; but, arrah, bad luck to ye, ye wur always conthrairy !" During this lamentation of Biddy's the whole party turned out, not even excepting the old lady, and the rest of the women folk. The night was dark and heavy clouds obscured the stars, there being no moon. So feeling their way through the ti-tree they proceeded up Symonds-street, guided by the sound of groaning as of one in pain; and after a little trouble they came upon Mick lying prostrate, and by the light of the lantern could see great beads of pers piration rolling down his face, and his eyes staring evidently in terror.

" Mick, Mick," said Mr Greeni shaking him, " rouse yourself, and ,tell us what is the matter." r •

" It's the spir—, its the spirits," said Mick trembling with fear. ," Didn't I know it,"said Biddy, who had joined the party. "It's the spirits shure enough. Ye'ye bin lookin' at somebody dhrihkin', ye spalpeen. But, aisy, mavour neen ; jist shpake up an' tell yer own Biddy. Ye arn't doad all out."

."Hold your tongue, Biddy," said her master; "he's only frightened. Compose yourself, Mick, and say what has alarmed you." "It's the spirits—the ghosts—in the cemetery." "Ghosts in the cemetery ! Nonsense, man ; it's all imagination." , ."There! there!" exclaimed Biddy. "Sbureit's thrue for him.' I hear some thing moighty quare." ' "Oh, father," said Ellen, "I can hear hollow groans in unearthly cadence. .There is something uncanny, on foot. Let us rouse up Mick, and hasten home." " Not until we have a look anyway," said Charley. "Come"on, George; come on, Father. -You, mother, and the; girls, take Mick home ■nrith you, and " i '. " Take me home, is it," said Mick, sud denly sprfngingj up, his courage reviving when he found he was among friends; " Not if I know &> I> rye think J'd depart the masther. Go on first ivery mother's son ov ye, an' I'll precede ye." . They accordingly moved up the road, and, with, stealthy step 3, went a little way info the cemetery, and plainly heard, voices among the graves! They were, certainly not human voices,'for they had that sepul chral sound which could only- proceed from troubled spirits who couldn't rest in their graves. In the direction of the voices they saw a halo of light shining on the over hanging foliage. They saw, with wondering and fear, anda sinkingfeelingintheirhearts; which they couldn't analyse, that it was sepulchral and unearthly—a weird-looking flame that was caused by no earthly means. They stood awestruck, when a demoniacal " Ha-ha ha," as if the deyil. and, his imps were holding high jinks over a disembodied spirit, reached their ears, and caused them to turn tail, and run. _ " Run, ye sowls," said Mick, setting the example, " Shure it's some sowl and body quarrelin' over the Repale ov the Union. "- They did run as they never ran before, and overtaking the women, they made the best of their way to the cottage. After consultation they resolved to rouse the neighbours, the nearest being at Dinnin's store in Barrack-street, and hastened to the police barracks in Wyndham-streefe; one or two, in their haste, falling into the Liear Canal on their way. They called at Father Walter's, but as they were Protes tant ghosts, and being out of his depart ment? he refused to have anything to.do with them. Macready, the watchmaker, in Queen-street, who was up to the^time of day • Reardon, the tobacconist, who would see that the efforts of the ghost would end in smoke ; several hotel-keepers, who, from the nature of their business, were supposed to know something about spirits; the police, and many others, swelled the ranks of the flkrmiatß. Having seized the first weapon

that came to hand (one man being found to have a hen under his arm, under some coh fused impression that it would lay the ghosts), they hastened to the cemetery. There they saw the' unholy light still shining. But all was still. There was no sound—nothing— to break the stillness save the cry of the lonely mopoke in the native bush on the Graf ton Road. Cautiously, with bated breath, they approached the light, when an unearthly fiendish yell reached their ears, and yet another, more demoniacal than the first, accompanied by the sudden extinguishing of the light.

■ i ■ . ■ ™ With one accord they turned-tail, and ran as if old Nick was in chase and had ordered his myrmidons to take the hindmost ; nor did they consider them selves safe until they reached Fort Brito mart. When the morning broke their courage revived. They aeain proceeded to the scene of the last, night's wonders, and found—a newly made grave, and two young men sleeping peacefully at the bottom of it, amid the debris of a broken bottle and a smashed lantern. , ,- : ,

It is needless to explain that the unearthly light and the sepulchral voices were both due" to the lantern in the first place, and the young men in the second, being both at the bottom of the grave. As our space is limited we must leave it to the imagination of the reader the chaff ings that were given the frightened indi viduals of the night's adventure, and" the happy reunion of the lovers. All was joy, peace, and gladness, arid the merry chimes from Parnell found an echo in every heart, proclaiming, as they did, " Peace on earth, and goodwill to men."

SOMETHING FOR THE LITTLE FOLKS.

Mastek Meddlesome" Now watch me scare the pigs."

i■' The pigs seemed to enjoy the-' " scare " immensely.

A GOOD BEGINNING FOR THE'NEW; YEAR.

UPSETTING - HIS ?, CALCULAtIONSL

RISTMASSCRAPS FOR LITTLE FOLKS.

iKCOkTHOVEBTiBiE—".And how old JU* you, my little man ?"-" I'm not old at all. I'm nearly new .'" . ; The Child of the PEKiOD.-"And did you have good dinners at Laburnum Villa, Margaret?" "Oh, very indeed, mother. But, only fancy ! , Aunt Matilda has got a woman for a cook !"

BEFORE AND AFTER.

Dat was leedle Jakey's shtomack Yen de Krismas day begun: O Und dat was Jacket's shtomach , Yen dat Krismas day vas done. - o A very raßh boy — one who haa the measles. . Why is the barber's trade easy for men to learn ? Because every man was once a little shaver." > A bootblack at a railway station has the sign conspicuously posted on his chair: "Pedal leguments artistically illuminated and lubricated -for the infinitesimal je muneration of one penny per operation. Younger sister to her elder, " What a large family the spinsters must be. I hear in'church every Sunday that some of them are going to be married:" Elder sister (scornfully), " Oh, you little stupid. Don"t you know what spinsters are? Bachelor ladies, of course."

NEOPOLITIAN FISHERMAN.

Mary had a little doll, ..... (There's nothing strange in that), It's wool was white, lite other dolls, It's little nose was flat. Its checks were red as roses are, ■ Its dress pinned on—lt seemed in snort, A common dolly— '," , ' < ; '' . '■'■ But— '■ .* When round its d ainty waist she felt, And touched a hidden spring, It warbled, underneath its belt: " Tm saw-dust when I sing."

THE LITTLE FLY.

A tabby kitten sat one day | t Upon a window-seat, And tried oust in a kitten's way To catena fly to eat.:: "' • '■■'■' The little fly ran down the pane. And kitty whisked her tail; The little fly crawled up again As slowly as a snail, Then dark and bright grew kitty's eye, And with a bounding spring, She fell upon the little fly ,:,.,. And ate the tiny thing. / ■ "Charlie," said a Spartan mother, "you have disobeyed me twice to-day, and I musb punish you." "Oh, mamma, please don't whip me." "No; TUnot whip you;" waiS the calm reply; "I'll'punish -you by making you remain in the-parlour while your sister1 is taking her music lesson." At this awful sentence the boy fell insensible to the floor. The coronerVinquesb revealed that death was caused by fright.

A SONG* FOR THE GIRL I LOVE. A song for the girl I love-- i .. ;it n •■ God love her! # ~ /. A song for the, eyes that tender shine ■■.. j / And the. fragrant mouth that meltson mine, The shimmering tresses uncontrolled \/ That eliisp her neck; with tpndrilspf gold, / rAnd th<> blossom, mouth atidtha dainty chfji— „ >,-. '~5.,:: ~ Theipirl I love— ;' '.'"' ? . God love her!

"The eyes that Vender shine." A song tot the girl.l loved— Clod loved her! A song for the eyes of fa-iied light, And the cheek whose red rose washed to white, And the quiet brow with its shadow and gleam, And the dark lashes t'irooped in a. long, deep dream. And the small hand 3 crossed for their church .. yard rest, And the lilies dead in her sweet dead breast— The gill 1 loved - GrDd loved her!

A CHRISTMAS BOX.

Old Captain Christmas again has arrived With a cargo of taifles for me, Andtheprettiestsamplsof allhe has brought X send, with good wishes, to thee. 1 Piko.

JUVENILE COMPETITION.

Open to Boys or Girls under J6 years of age, for the best Descriptive Sketch of New Zealand Travel or Scenery ; and for the best narrative of New Zealand Life and Adventure (true or fictitious):-— Descriptive Sketch. Ist Prize, Isabella Minnie Por ter, Auckland Girl's High School, Handsome Book on Maori War (illustrated), value.. ... £2 2nd Prize, Handsome Book, Chas. ■ H. Skodder, Surrey Crescent, value 10s Narrative. , : Ist prize, Clara C. Firth, Clifton, Mount Eden, Handsome Book on Maori War (illustrated), value... £2 2nd Prize, Ethel Bull, Mount , Eden ... ... 10s

Descriptive Sketches.

AUCKL AND SCENERY

FIRST. PRIZE DESCRIPTIVE SKETCH.

(Br Isabel Minkie Porter, Auckland Girls High School.)

LTHOUGH I am a native of New Zea-

land, have never had the opportunity to travel or explore much of the baauti ful scenery of these* pic turesque isles. I think Auckland a charming place. The most densely

populated portion lies, as ib were, in a valley surrounded by green hills and mountain ranges; while here and there rises up a bold hoary old mountain rearing its head to the sky. Beneath lie soft green valleyslook ing bright and gay in the summer months. Towards the north of the city extends the harbour, marked by many bays and in dentations. In its midst are a few lonely islands, the favourite haunts of picnic parties. On these the dear little daisies love to peep from their grassy beds in the spring. Over their hills, and intermixed with the overgrown grass, live other wild flowers, which, though common, are beauti ful. Here sometimes are found a few trees of lovely foliage. Then there is the river winding around the town, making the, picture even more striking, as its waters blend with the blue of the sky. Another scene which adds to the beauty is the sun set. It is a magnificent sight to see the "great king Sol" descending in the west and illuminating the sky around with its radiant colours and delicate tints. At times it sinks down over the horizon like a ball of fire, at others it sends forth its golden spurs and casts its reflec tion on the then peaceful and calm waters of the silvery river. Another beautiful scene is the twilight in the summer, when the stars peep from*their blue surroundings and the moon comes up, casting her beauti ful but melancholy shade over the town ; every bird is hushed, the busy bees are resting, and all is oalm and serene. During the last Christmas holidays, while on a visit to Heiensville, I was invited to go with a party of friends to the West Coast. I eagerly accepted, and when the eventful day arrived we mounted our horses and started at an early hour in the afternoon. After riding through Avoca, and through a; great deal of shrub and titree, ploughed fields, and uncultivated ground, and Over hill and dale for seven miles, we at length reached the summit of a rather high hill. In front lay a beautiful sight. All around were hills covered in soft green verdure and small shrubs. The tall grass waved to and

:ro in the wind fresh from the ocean,

front, and stretching as far as the eye could reach, were the grave-looking sandhills, forming a very pretty picture in their coat pf grey, and contrasting .with ..their" green background. Beyond extended the snow-white beach, covered with large white shells that glistenod in the sunlignt. Over this rolled the gigantic crested billows, making a tremendous noise as they dashed on to the beach, forming snowy foam. Next was the beautiful blue but restless waters of,the ocean, sparkling as a flower laden with dewdrops in the morning surishine. Thiy reached to the horizon, where it seemed to join the more delicate tints of the heavens. In the centre of this was the sun, one great globe of fire, sending forth its last rays before it departed with th 6 closing day. We cantered on 4>ver the sandhills and gained the beach, where we gathered many shells and curiosities. Along the shores we saw many peculiar species of water-bird, one of which, were the gulls, giving the picture a lively appearance as they flew over the blue waters or stalked on the beach. Sometimes their fleecy white bodies seemed to rest for a moment on the restless waves, then again they would take flight, flying around in circles, and making the air resound with their discordant cries. Then after a long rest we rode homeward. Gaining once more the same summifc,' we reined in, and looked back. The view was completely altered; the sky was a deeper blue, only dotted here and there by white, fleecy clouds. The tide" advanced higher and higher over the shells,,and th,e wind vra& blowing stronger. I had never before seen' such a beautiful yfew" as I witnessed that day. At another time I.Weiit to a picnic in the Helensville bush. The place was beautiful with trees—all natives, of New Zealand—and ferns of delicate brown and. green colours. It is here the grass grows so high and the sweet wild flowers spring up on its velvety surface, opening in the first morning sunbeams, and closing as the evening advances. The trunks of the trees are covered in dark brown coats, and over their rugged barks climbs the lovely clematis, looking very pretty, as its pure white blossoms mingle with the varying greens of the ferns and trees* Overhead, through the thick foliage, is here and there a spot of azure sky. Through the bush winds a small stream, whose clear waters mirror back the magnificent scenery around. It is hidden from the sun's rays by the overhanging ferns, and trees.' On its margin grow rushes, dipping now and then into the calm and silent brook. A stillness reigns around, which is only broken by the song from the tiny, soft throat of a bird, as it sends forth its joyous notes on the balmy air. Then again you hear, the musical tinkle, tinkle of the cow-bell as that

animal moves in the distant fields. Next, a busy bee buzzes by on its homeward flight*, a few bright • coloured butter flies flit over the stream rand rest on the rushes. In the interior lie the trunks of fallen trees, forming a picturesque scene as the bush lawyer clings to their,barks. Close by, the stream widens, and makes no small noise as it falls over a pretty water fall, forming at its base a pool of foam^ i then it proceeds oh in the same way, mur muring as it ripples over pebbles and Btones, and carrying with it leaves which have fallen from above. Here the sun's rays rest on the stream and its waters

gleam like many diamonds clasped in a magnificent setting. Many of the trees around are in blossom and bud, and the air is filled with a delicate perfume even more delicious and refreshing than that from a hothouse: The tender ferns thrive as they do nowhere else. Through one part of the bush was a rough track, and toiling along it was a team of stolid> yet docile-looking bullocks, bearing their heavy yokes so patiently. Their cruel driver kept urging the poor creatures on, in harsh, loud tones, accompanied by the constant cracking of his long whip. These spenes are as beautiful, I imagine, as some m the

Southern regions. fi, I remember of once, seeing a magnm cent evening picture of Mitre Peak, in Milford Sound. In the centre of the picture was a large extent, of water — the sound — its silent waters washing quietly, against the shores. On its calm surface was reflected the grandeur of the scene above. On one side the ground v»| low, and on its shores lay the, rugged stumps of old rotten trees. A few shrubs grew by, which were intermingled with long, green grass. Further on tfie land jutted out into the sound. This small peninsula was thickly studded with bush, the colours of green varying, but,.as nature willed it, always blending, On the oppo site bank the ground rose higher, and risino- as it were, right out of the waters, were two lofty peaks ; one—Mitre—eleva ting its grand and haughty head up to the skies. Its' summit could not be seen as a dark cloud hung over it.'<, On sonic of the highest/idges visible were seen the traces of silve*y white snow. The sky at the back, was cloudy and black, but everything else seeded placid. On the peaceful waters of the sound was reflected the shadow of the lofty peaks. It was a grand and beautiful picture, more beautiful than I have talent codescribe. Motto, '.'lmp."

The Giant Kauri-pine At Tararu Creek.

SECOND PRIZE.

(ByC. H. Skpdder, Surrey Crescent.)

"Probably nearly everyone round about Auckland knows that a kauri-pine about 35 feet in circumference stands on. the left bank of Tararu Creek, five miles distant (via the Waiotahi Road) from Shortland, Thames. But Ido not suppose that more than one-third of those who have heard about it have seen it except oh photographs and other pictures. Early in the. Christ mas holidays, January 1884, I in company with my cousin went to see what it was like. We started at about half past nine in the morning, before the sun had its full power. This was an advantage to us, as it gave us a good chance to get out of the dusty roads before the sun got very hot. We walked briskly enough till wo came to the starting point of the Waiqtahi Rodd, but as the sun began to get oppressively hot we only sauntered along slowly. > '

There is another way, by far the pleasantest, but the longer, and one where anybody by themselves are more Jikely to get lost. It goes along by the beach at Tararu, and thou by the creek and through the bush to tjhe kauri tree. Itgoes through the bush neafcly all the way, which shuts out the sun's rays and keeps it cool and pleasant iii .'the hottest weather. Along the track feitns and native-plants amd trees of every description grow in abundance. The Waiotahi Road is.known by that jdarae because of.a, very small-creek of that nnine which runs, along it for about two, milss. It is so small that you can easily jump across it at any part of its course. The\ road in some places is cut through a sort of shallow goitge between hills, and other places runs/ along the side of a hill in the form of a l<&ge. It is so irregular because it winds graduallvupthe Coromandel ranges which are at the highest elevation about; 11000 feet. <above sea level. iWhen you get about. 600 feet above the aea you can look down on. the Thames, the seaj and the riv.ers Thtames, Piako, and Kauaeranga, as ■vvell as many small creeks, etc. We Baurtei«d slowly; along, as the heat was terrible,' but slow as we were walking,! we were obliged to sit down every few minutes" and re?.t; thus it. took us about an hour to < go a mile.' Xboiit a milOi up the road we passed the Moanatairi Mine, which to gether with a few houses is perched up^ i a cliff about forty feet Jiigh., ; Lately, a man at this •.m.ine "was hauling something from the road beneath ;on to ttie' iramway. which runs along the cjiff,"when h!e missed; his footinjg, going headlong dqwin the cliff on to the rpad. , ; He was not" fef.y> severely injured, but as he was old, and gotoA severe shaking, he was B|ot expected ±o live.. Just as we got out of . sight of the ■ m me, i we saw a man coming alorig' some' short distance behind' us;so.we sab on;af stone and waited .till; he, came up. , My' cousin got up and asked him the-w^ty to she "kauri ti-eei"- .He replie^,, "Keep to the road as far as ibgoes, but at thajbirate; it will r tak'e you all night to .get, thetre!"' But' as the .grade of -the.; rpad ,was,stjeep, and the sun's heat was very, greatJ we could. not hurry any faster; jwe,{ thoitight that if we did; not, see, itj, would.! be able to see tvhat the .Coromandel Ranlges were like. When abbu'i a mile and a . aalf from where we met the man ihe road turns suddenly up from the' channel of she. Waiotahi Creek, up a small spur of ranges onto a small ledge cat fpr it *»fediat forty feet up the side. A little way past this is a heap of small quaxtz rubbish,'etc;, which has been shot , out from -ah old drive r by, the side, ,Qf the road. Just at this po|nt we were talking tojgether, so; that #c did hot notice, the sudden ascent of the road, but Jcept oh a small track till we came to 'the heap tot jquartz where the little yalley stopped. . The^e were, some little boys playing'about,' and. as we wiere shut; in on three'sides, my cousin asked them the way. They pointed; up the quartz embankment, which' was, the, shortest cut.. We could see that it was like scoria, but we walked up tiie front. When nearthe , top my foot ; slipped,, ana I rolled rigblt down the embankment,. while my dinnei', which was rolled up in acloiJb, bounded to the bottom. I madeaclutch at a tuft of grass, which stopped me. , My cousin got my dinner, and we went on. We now entered the bush, whicK sheltereii us nicely from the sun. We, walked for, about an hour in the shade before w,e could see something like the kauri tree through the trees. We cut straight across a, little track and soon found ourselvesin front-of it. Its dimensions are about 35 feet circumfer ence, height to branches: 40 feet. It must be ove a century old. It escaped fij;e in the last drought, January 1887, by the borough council clearing' tibe^jash' away 40 feet on each side. ' '"

CHRISTMAS JOYS.

We greet tbee again, sweet ChriStmaWiide, When loved ones gather from far and wide. To spend once more, at thefold fireside, '"•■■•'; A truly happy Christmas. ; All nature conspiring the season to greet, The wild flowers blossom beneath our feet, n While aoft winds are laden with fragrance ,/' ; ; BWeet,.,v,, ;: . ' :'■'■< ix ~- ■« ' ... •/! ] :..,i;; To uaher in our Christmas. .

NARRATIVE.

LIFE AND A»VBNTU^IN NEW -2EAIiAN|^ .; ;'j ;

FIRST PRIZB-

By Claka a/^iRTH.

' fifffF V am an <$ man now, butm.my " A y rf dav^have seen some curious '1 " Ir things and been through fl 8:^ jiiany hairbreadth escapes. kte' '' ' tf/sy°u would liketo hear a / / few of my adventures I would. £K§itp§| ansTsuch, I will undeceive them, if they will but listen to me. t Kw ._, My name is John Pratt and I live m Auckland. Many years ago I came toWew Zealand to try my fortune as an «Pj c°«PJJ settler. My wife, my patient Polly, who that there were no locomotives. »*«».| days in ornearfcew Zealand. We joarneyed ; on; till at last we came^in sight of .the.; beautiful Waikato river. Before this,JMhad thought the Thames in old England the mosb beautiful river in the world, but when I saw ; the Waikato with its islands .^.9 ear r waters, I was conquered. We still travelled; on, up hill arid down dale I will; nob stop to describe the sublime scenery or the beautifnl bush we passed through I must hurry on. I could ha™,.? o joyed these scenes, but for a Jiorttlbe haunting fear. It was the fear of the Maoris. The Maori war had; not; begun-ifc was in the year '57,--but still rumouratof discontent and treachery had reachedwthe European ear. Several times i on the journey we had met Maoris, and, once an old chief ha 4 tried to ascend the. waggon, but when ho was stopped he stiooK •; his fist at us angrily crying " Kakmo. In that man's evil wrinkled face, I saw #1 the passion and cruelty that afterwards^roke out in 1863. After a few more miles of J wearisome jolting, we reached a little settle ment, consisting of four houses and a store. Here I saw a man who promised for a small sum to help me to reduce my little farm to something like order. He Was a cousin of the waggoner and he told me, it would be best to leave my wife and'children with ins , family until.l had prepared a tempdrary home for them. Taking his advice, I bid them good-bye, promising to fetch them in j a day or two; my little property was but a ; mile further oni so we soon reached it- The day was calm and bright, and the first glimpse I saw of our future home was a beautiful one ; tall trees towered above us, their tops just caught by the noonday- sun, j The gay flowers of therata formed a pleasing | contrast to the different greens. This plant): is a creeper, and-it climbs up the trunk ■ of the re.warewa; at first it is only'sup ported by this tree, but in course of time it) •takes possession of it, kills the rewarewa, and becomes a tree many times as large. I'lobks of bright wdod-pigeonst were climb ing along the waving branches, or feeding on tawa-berries, and little fantails -were

twittering over our heads. - .. A small pebblycreek ran through' this enchanting. spot, dashing merrily along: I have cause to remember its; music' Bob; Dawsoh, my new friendj said we had better make a clearing at once, 'so without 'more ado we began, and soon the ring of axes sounded'tbroughtlie balmy ah\ putting to flight the peaceful birds. Before evening jf closed itt> t?(V. had made a snieH clearing, I and then we boiled a billy over a wood fire, wrapped ourselves in our blankets, and slept soundly. J ~ Nexfc'morriihg,' wh'eii I woke, the sun was just rising,, arid I never before heard such a sweet concert. Talk about the song of the nightingale after that, why it; did not bear' comparison. The notes I heard, Bob told:me, were those of the wood- ' pigeon, the bellbird.and the tui. ; The note of the bellbird is never heard &cept in the early morning, and then only in the depths of the'forest. The tut is the mocking bird of New' Zealand ; X have heard it imitate birds so well as to be undecided'whether it w"as the real bird "or tohlyj this mocking tiii; ' We worked hard* tbab day, and by <jhe next evening wer had a little house built and a patch of ground fenced. I then fetched mjr wife and child-.•: ren in the waggon wffch rriy bags of maize and potatoes,' arid seveM farm implements. I dug, the ground betwUpi' the tree stumps and sowed corn arid planted potatoes, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the ten- fp der, greehshoots above the ground. "At the t>ame time my wife4?ad sowfed flower fseeds, /' an*l put,rpots in the garden, if Injayfso call it, "^arid -there sobti:;flourished: around our hun\bledbor many English flowers. - In sfchis-manner we continued to cultivate our gi'barid,'and.l'sobn had a fine-cVop oj corn aY& "ttiany ba^ -of jpotatoes. fSome times yr)>\ went witjplbur friends, i tho Daw sons; into .the bush and ' gathered fetfns. I have of ten" /noticed 1 -the beautiful New Zea land ferns, 1 which :!almo«t-make upi for the absence of''wild flowers", i On the: outskirts of the busii we discovered at number of peach trees load«ed with uiifipe fruit.' . One day we wcre\ surprised to see a' handsome Maori - -woman 1: with a large kit' ■ ofespletid id peaches"r: entepVou*-garden. These she Qfferetis for ; sale rat ithesmaM charge of a couple" vof sticks of tobacco • we willingly exchanged, you maybe sure. Thusiiwe cbntinuedt.Tto live for several

years. \Ve were often visited by the natives, but lwe torere neVer frightened by them ; indeed, n)y ,wife used to visit their settle ment. Thle Maori womanMyho first visited us was very'^feetibnatc^ i*ather too much so I tMnk,|plshe would s^uutther whole day on. oixrMtehenfloor,sojtnct"inies bringing; all! her friends' as well. Slab «Sid cause to [bfe greiatfulto my Pollys 'befci'ias©^ °!MBfe j when her baby was very ill,-she ha/i dqctorea | it up and.cured it, and •Ngahinc i ,l'*hat -was, i her name7,.;was.nofc. uiigVate,fuj, as >\\«s alter- < | wards-found puft.! :AU; the natives w'eve nob si) T good -nasfcu red [ as she, howeV^rJ you will seei'.. } ; '-'v , ) Kl ,'. .;,v [■.' '[■- \ ,- *■■ "^ ;» Most of the men Jhad;several iJbgs each, ugly savage curs who; snapped and snarled ! all day long.; ©ne-dog in particalarJ I liad a special dislike: for, a blatic;-and} white mongrel j; he belonged to. ; a -.man called Kawau, whom I disliked aboqt'-is much as his doff. ThLd fellow r s had a skulking look, which11.did not like,,and I soon, had cause to like it less. I had a littlp,cat th&b I had brought all the way from homei aVck 1 I w»3 very fond of it. ( One day she wa? walking ' along a fence, when Kawau cajtne*! utf, his cur as usual at his. heels. The instants-the dog saw pussy, he bounded at hep, and | doubtlessshewould>hayobeen killed*^ubat that moment I sprang at the cur, and with one blow; okmy axe .nearly served hji head from his body. I saved poor pusslllbut I nearly had my own head broken. JS^wau, snatching,^ &piece,ofwoodi Pushed at me with uplifted arm, and would bave dashed • my ; grains out, but Ngahine. who *was Btanding^near, knocked the wea\Don out of his^hand, 1 ,. was saved." Kawau, muttering Maori maledictions, t slouched off. 4 Ngahme told me to be on my, gward, us be meant to take vtv, t or revenge,. , , , After this I was always trembled more of ' less by the nattves^ifferhaps.they;were 1 givmga gentle^int !hat they wanted no white faces in the.ir dominions. Sooni after settling I had bought a few sheep, but they weresoworried by Maori dogs that I saw that I should have, none left if I:did not do something. Every night they came so<i. ". after datk; they were led by ajtarge spoiitei mongreL which; belonged -to. adishonest looking Maori I determine* to get nd of it by.fw^means dtfoal I asked -Pawson, »nd a lad : t ih^ apmetimw' worked for me to come en© night and'

THE AUCKLAND -EVENING StAB, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1887,

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