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Typo: A Monthly Newspaper and Literary Review, Volume 3

[trade dispatches]

Our new exchanges this month are: Artist Printer, St. Louis, Nos 1 and 2; Pointers, a little monthly list with specimens, issued by Messrs Averill, Carpenter, & Co., St. Paul, Minn. The latter is printed in « self-spacing » type—the advantages of which the American printers quite appreciate.

Mr P. Hay, late of the Tapanui Courier, is now on the staff of the Melbourne Argus.

Mr W. Potts, the well-known lithographer in Mr A. D. Willis's establishment, is about to take a trip to the Old Country, and expects to return in time for Christmas.

Mr E. T. Gillon, editor of the Evening Post, Wellington, has been installed Deputy Provincial G. M. of the North Island. He has been 25 years a Freemason.

The Dunedin Star has now been twenty years in the hands of its present proprietor, Mr George Bell, and in celebration of the anniversary, his staff have presented him with a handsomely-framed portrait of himself.

Mr J. T. Edgar, of the Melbourne Herald, well known in this colony, was on the 2nd inst. presented by the literary staff of the paper with a handsome marble clock, suitably inscribed, on the occasion of his marriage.

The partnership hitherto existing between Messrs Bock & Cousins, printers and engravers, Wellington, was dissolved at the end of July. The business is now carried on by Mr William Rose Bock, under the style of Bock & Co.

The Wairarapa Observer says: We regret to learn that Mr J. Payton, of the Wairarapa Daily, had the misfortune to lose his eldest daughter, who succumbed to typhoid fever on Sunday night, 4th August. The deceased was a general favorite, having by her genial disposition made a great number of friends outside the home circle, so that many will lament her early death.

The finest library in New Zealand belongs to the General Assembly; but it does not seem to have benefited members much. Mr Fish, following the example of Mr Kerr, has been getting beyond his depth in his literary illustrations. The country party, he said, were like Mark Tapley, « waiting for something to turn up. » A roar of laughter led Mr Fish to believe something was wrong, and aided by a friendly prompter, Mr Fish made confusion worse confounded by explaining: « I mean the Mark Tapley who stated that Micawber was always « waiting for something to turn up. »

The following charade, by « H., Napier, » is from the « Half-way Houses department of the Wellington Press:

Where am I found? In every place
Where man has lived and left his trace:
Where'er his busy hand has wrought,
I have enshrined his loftiest thought.
In every age, in all his ways,
My presence cheered his weary days.
Old dwellers in the lakes and caves,
Wild hunters in the woods and waves,
Nations—all-powerful in their day—
Whose very name has passed away,
With those of every later age
Whose histories fill the written page,
And all the tribes on earth who dwell—
All—all, have felt my powerful spell.

Myself, yet not my own, nor thine—
Who can describe me, or define?
But dimly known or understood,
Compound of evil and of good;
And yet, howe'er imperfect deemed,
Ofttimes beyond all else esteemed.
Yet still—strange irony of fate!
Whoever would depreciate,
In any tongue, whate'er it be,
For simile makes use of me.

Ill-omened verb! thy dismal sound
By strange association found,
Of accident beyond control
Should yet in part describe my whole.
Those who in Holy Writ will read
About the sower and the seed,
Or of a marvel strange to see
Upon the shores of Galilee—
And scan the narrative with care,
Will find it plainly written there.

To find my whole, indeed, 'twould be
A weary search through kingdoms three.
Know, therefore, that which I propound
Is in the Second Kingdom found,
Its varied uses I descry
For food, for medicine, for dye,
With others still, of lesser fame
And therefore which I need not name.

In the following week's issue, a metrical reply appeared from a correspondent signing himself « Con, » who also contributed the following:

Seating himself aloft, the ground he spurns,
And as the cycles roll around, he burns
T'outdo his fellows, and inscribe his name
Above the rest, upon the scroll of fame;
Or on the verdant turf, his gallant steed
He urges to the goal, at headlong speed.
Now change we the figure, and lo! he appears,
Neuter—not neutral (arousing our fears),
Attached as a clause to our own little Bill, [skill.
Which was drawn up, we thought, with unparalleled

Deformed and ugly? nay! but pale and worn,
That faded cheek has borne the world's cold scorn.

Our thanks, O friend, we pay as tribute due
For many a pleasant hour we've spent with you,
Laying aside a while the care and strife,
The turmoil, and the drudgery of life,
To smile at thy conceits—perchance to sigh,
Because the world that smiles on thee has passed us by.

—Neither of these are very difficult, and the solution of each will appear in our next.

Melbourne has the reputation of being somewhat lax as regards the Sabbath. Yet we find that while London tolerates a seven-day newspaper, the Victorian Government have intimated to the projectors of a Sunday newspaper that legal proceedings will be instituted against them if the paper is published.

The Wellington Watchman has found it necessary to increase its price from one penny to twopence. This paper, which is printed by Messrs Brown, Thompson, & Co., is always noticeable for clean and sharp press-work. It has reduced its size, and doubled the number of pages. The margins are now rather small, and the old heading is retained. The paper would be greatly improved by adopting a neater title, and abandoning the ugly curved line.

Among the month's applications for patents recorded in the N. Z. Gazette, was that of Thomas Lewis, of Rangitata, railway officer, for the better aud more expeditious method of date stamping and printing letters, tickets, and other things, to be called « Lewis's Patent Printing Type. »

The stupid wording of a press telegram from Wellington early this month caused a very unpleasant mistake. Several cases of typhoid had occurred in the city, and a message was despatched that Mr Rous Marten, editor of the Times, was « the latest victim. » Several papers, very naturally, headed the item « Death of Mr Rous Marten, » and a Christchurch paper published an obituary notice. We are glad to say that Mr Marten's illness was not serious, and that he has recovered.

The London Spectator has just suffered a serious loss. Mr Richard Hutton, its gifted editor, who was until lately a Unitarian, has been led by his love of music to associate himself with a « high » church, and has from thence gone over to Rome and become a recluse. The loss is mutual, as Mr Hutton relinquishes the handsome salary of £2000 a year. His friends are sanguine that retire-ment and meditation will considerably modify his present views.

A recent instance of the liberality of Mr David Syme. proprietor of the Melbourne Age, is worthy of being placed on record. One of the members of the staff, Mr D. K. Bennett, died, leaving a young widow unprovided for. The staff wished to do all they could for the bereaved lady, and started a subscription list, every employé in the office putting down his name for a subscription equal to one month's salary. This would have raised a good round sum. When things had progressed thus far, the list was laid before Mr David Syme for his contribution. His reply was that he intended to settle upon Mrs Bennett a life annuity of £200 a year.

Mr F. B. Schell, whose splendid artistic work in the Picturesque Atlas has made him so well known throughout Australia, has received the appointment of art editor of Harper's Magazine. Mr W. E. Abbey chose Mr Schell for the post while he was passing through London. Mr Schell was therefore able to step into the appointment on his return from Australia, (Though we can't understand why he didn't step into « chokee » and Mr Abbey into a $1000 fine under the imported labor law!) The position is one much coveted in art circles, as it carries with it a high prestige as well as a large salary.