The Newtown bee., 1880-07-14
A MANS FRIENDSHIP.

"Your friend, MT. Cliffe, is certainly 8 model of devotion, Lawrence" re- marked pretty Claire Morrison, half jealously, as she looked little con- temp tuously after the lazy loose -jointed, but not altogether unattractive figure lounging contentedly off into the dis tance. He certainly has constituted himself your shadow, though wonder that he never discovered how exceed inglv de trop he is occasionally" Nonsense, dear," replied Captain Lawrence Stanley, smiling fondly down upon the sweet, pouting face so near his own. 'I can't have you quar- rel with dear old Gerald. for, as you say, he is devotion itself. happened, years ago. to fish his little sister out of 9 lake when she was drowning. She has since died, and Gerald seems to con- sider his debt of gratitude boundless. He seems to be almost alone in the word as regards family. He has step- father, but his mother died several years ago, and he had no brothers nor sisters excepting the one I just spoke of, and half.sister, scarcely more than an infant when she strayed away one day from her home close to the sea, and is supposed to have been drowned. l think his friendship for me would bear any test, and I verify believe he would not hesitate to give his life for me-"
 II have often heard of the strength and unselfishness of some mems attach ments," answered Claire. thoughtfully; ; but surely your friend does not be. long to this class. He is too lazy, and awkward, and stupid to be capable of self-sacrifce, or sentiment of any kind" ]"
 Yes" said Lawrence, slowly. ''he is dull, and slow, and stupid; but still"
 "But still we can find something Claire, cCaxingly, drawing 8 little closer to her lover, and he did not con- tradict her.
 The scene of our story is laid far away amid the lakes and plains of New Zealand, where, at the time we write, war was waging between the British and the copper-colored Maoris, and among all her majesty's servants fight ing for the mother country in this far away land were no braver officers than Lawrence Stanley and his stanch friend, Gerald Cliffe. They were sta- tioned at the small town of Timaru just then almost the center of thesirregu jar sort of warfare waging between civilization and barbarism-a position of some danger, not at all suitable for ladies, as Captain Stanley vainly re- presented almost daily to his mother, who had year before followed her son from England and was staying in Timaru, having with her, as guest, Claire Morrison, the daughter of a brother officer of Lawrence's, to whose Vaccinations that young man had fallen a willing victim some months before, and the wedding day was drawing very near.
 The time when our story opens a tribe of Maoris was encamped within three miles of Timaru, and for several days petty skirmishing had been car ried on between the two forces without any apparent result.
 Early in the afternoon Gerald Cliffe was alone in the small parlor belonging | to the apartments reserved for the use of Mrs. Stanley and Miss Morrison in | the only inn which Timaru afforded ' waiting the return of Lawrence, who | had been sent out some hours before in I charge of reconnoitering party. | Gerald's vigil had been long one
 and he had consulted his watch many
 times rather uneasily, when at last the
 door was thrown open, and Lawrence
 haggard. trembling, with bloodshoi
 eyes, staggered over to his amazed l friend.
 | lEduK 1Ous you dI6 alOUB! ne ejaculated, in hollow voice, as he sank | into chair. '' Gerald, old boy, it's al
 up with me. One of those accursed
 copperskins has hit me with poisoned
 arrow, and that, you know, is certain
 death-and such a death! Oh, my pool l Clairer'
 The young man broke off with some l thing that sounded like a sob, while
 Gerald, who well realized the hopeless
 ness of such a wound-against ths | poison of which the most skillful phy
 sician had never discovered an antidot,
 -as if turned to stone, stared with hor
 TOT at the unfortunate man, in who's, l veins the poison would so soon begin it
 deadly work; and neither of them heart
 the low, despairing moan from the nex {; room.
 The two men were still sitting il l blank silence. Gerald convulsivel- 1 squeezing his friends hand-fOr wha l could be said in the face of such l calamity p-when commotion wa l heard in the hall, followed by sort 0 I fumbling at the door, which was tn
 next moment opened to admit tW, I hlanketed red-skinned Maoris, .usheres sl by the landlord, who retired after ex 1 blaming that the visitors had just conn ] from the enemy's camp under dag 9