Australian Tales - Setis

had not been early instructed in divine truth; she had not learned to know
and love the Saviour, and to flee to Him at all times for support and
guidance; she lacked, too, sound paternal counsel and protection. A
resolute sire, or brother, are as effective in scaring prowling villains from
the domestic hearth, as sharp dogs are in guarding back-yards from petty
thieves. But she had no such trusty guardians, which her deceiver well
knew; moreover, she loved him with all the warmth of her young heart's
first affections; and for that love, that self-immolation, he very soon
returned coldness, then closely followed neglect, scorn, and positive
brutality. To her impassioned appeals to him to save her reputation, to
fulfil his oft-repeated promise and make her his wife, he from time to
time returned evasive answers; and to her last pathetic appeal to him, on
her knees, for the sake of the infant which she shortly expected to bring
into the world, he spurned her from him, and coarsely applying an
epithet, at which every woman shudders, he left her tearing her hair in an
agony of grief.
* * * * *
There she lay, with an infant folded to her bosom, when I entered her
cottage, about a week after her accouchement. I shall ever remember that
dreary morning, though I wish I could forget it, for my heart aches while
picturing it, even now.
Pillowed up in an old arm chair in the front room, sat Mrs. May, with
the marks of death in her countenance. The anxiety of the last few
months had proved too severe for her impaired strength, and she had
sunk beneath the trial. Her mind, too, was as enfeebled as her body,
which was perhaps a merciful alleviation of her sufferings. At times she
seemed to forget her griefs, and to fancy her Mary was again a child
playing beside her, in the same merry mood that she used to do in happy
days gone by: and then the poor old soul would hold imaginary
conversations in the fondling style in which she used to talk to her “wee
Polly;” and repeat the nursery rhymes, which in those days delighted her
little smiling companion. Suddenly, however, the recollection of the
present forlorn condition of her still idolized daughter, would burst upon
her mind like an overwhelming flood, then her anguish and weeping
exclamations of despair were more than I could bear to witness, and I
was glad to escape from that scene of sorrow, even to one, scarcely less
painful to behold, in the adjoining room, where lay poor Mary on a clean
little stretcher bed, with her infant pressed to her agitated heart. Her
disengaged hand was held before her eyes, but tears coursed down her
face, and her sobs prevented her from articulating a word. I stood beside
her bed and gazed at her in mournful silence. My heart was too full to
speak, but she knew that I sincerely pitied her; she knew that I had not