Australian Tales - Setis

set me laughing; the next minute I was locked in my mother's arms,
which set me crying. Then I embraced Nanny — very gently, of
course — which set me — but I cannot explain all my emotions on that
blessed morning, you must imagine them, sir — and I must shorten my
story.
* * * * *
“Ten days afterwards, the bell in old St. Philip's round tower rang out
like fire, and almost all the bunting in the colony was fluttering in the
breeze to celebrate my marriage with Nanny Roseley. Good old
Archdeacon Cowper united us, and after a sumptuous dejeuner at my
house (which was partaken of by numerous guests, including thirty-five
of my relatives and friends, who had just arrived in the Dolphin), we
drove off to Parramatta to spend our honeymoon, and a bright moon it
was too.
* * * * *
“Now tell me what you think of that for a tale of true love,” said Mr.
Dovecott, who was evidently well pleased with it himself. “Is there not
more honest wholesome material in it — though badly dressed — than in
those insipid hashed-up love stories of the age, full of broken hearts and
hobgoblins, and all that sort of calf's head stuffing, which, I am sorry to
believe, sell as readily as ripe gooseberries! What do you think of it, sir?”
“In brief, sir, I think your career has been singularly marked by
Providential circumstances, and that it is highly suggestive,” I replied.
“But pray tell me what became of your friends who came out in the
Dolphin; I should like to hear a little more about them.”
“I will tell you in a few words, sir. My dear mother lived for fifteen
years with us in peace and comfort; and Nanny will certify that her
experience belies the cynical report, that mothers-in-law are always very
troublesome in a household. My mother was a help and a blessing to my
wife, and I can testify that I never heard a note of discord from either of
them; on the contrary, thanksgiving and the voice of melody filled my
home from morning till night. She is now in her home above. Her tomb
is on the Sand-hills, and the memory of her many virtues is embalmed in
my heart. Poor Mr. Roseley is gone to heaven too. He lived to a good old
age in a nice little cottage on the Rocks, and his time was spent in doing
good to every one around him. He often blessed the hour when his house
and barns were burnt, as it was that Providential circumstance which had
led him to Sydney. He had the happiness of seeing his family all
flourishing in temporal things — but best of all, of knowing that they
were living in preparation for the better life beyond the grave. His son