by Mayne Reid
lived near the border.
"My poor wife had disposed of every thing that would sell for a penny;and had in vain endeavoured to find employment. The distance of the hutfrom any neighbour, had prevented her from receiving assistance in thelast hours of her existence: for no one had been aware of the state ofdestitution to which she had been reduced.
"During the severe storm preceding her decease, she had probablylingered too long in the hut to be able to escape from it; and hadmiserably perished, as in a prison.
"Neither she, nor the child, could have been dead for any length oftime. Their corpses were scarcely cold; and it was horrible for me tothink, that I had been walking in the greatest haste throughout all thatstormy night, and yet had arrived too late to rescue them!
"When sitting by their lifeless forms, in an agony of mind that wordscannot describe, I was disturbed by the arrival of a stranger. Itturned out to be the post carrier, who stepping inside the hut, handedme a letter. At a glance, I saw it was the letter I had sent fromAmerica--enclosing a draft for twenty-five pounds.
"Why has this letter not been delivered before?" I inquired of the man,speaking as calmly as I could.
"He apologised, by saying that the letter had only been in hispossession _four days_; and that no one could expect him to come thatdistance in a snow storm, when he had no other letter to deliver on theway!
"I took up an old chair--the only article of furniture in the house--andknocked the man senseless to the floor.
"His skull was broken by the blow; and he soon after died.
"I was tried, and convicted of manslaughter, for which I received asentence of ten years transportation.
"At the end of three years, I obtained a ticket-of-leave for goodconduct. And now, gentlemen, I have nothing more to tell you, thatwould be worth your listening to."
At the conclusion of Norton's narrative, several of the company, whoseemed to be restraining themselves with great difficulty, broke intoloud shouts of laughter. Norton did not appear to be at all displeasedat this, as I thought, unseemly exhibition!
I afterwards learnt why he had taken it in such good part. It wasgenerally known, that he had been transported for robbing a postman; andthe cause of their mirth was the contrast between the general belief,and his own special account of the crime.
For my part, I could not join in their mirth. His story had been toldwith such an air of truth, that I could not bring myself to disbelieveit. If not true, the man deserved some consideration for the talent hehad exhibited in the construction of his story: for never was truthbetter counterfeited, or fiction more cunningly concealed, under an airof ingenuous sincerity.
Volume Three, Chapter XVI.
THE "ELEPHANT'S" AUTOBIOGRAPHY.
When tranquillity had been again restored, the "Elephant" was called onfor his autobiography--which was given nearly as follows:--
"My father is a `squatter' in New South Wales--where I was myself born.
"At the age of seventeen, I was sent to England to be educated; and,being well supplied with money, the design of those who sent me was notdefeated: for I did learn a good deal--although the knowledge Iobtained, was not exactly of the kind my parents had meant me toacquire.
"I possessed the strength, and soon acquired the skill, to defeat all myfellow students in rowing or sculling a boat. I was also the best handamongst them with a bat. I became perfect in many other branches ofknowledge, of like utility. During my sojourn in Europe, I made severaltrips to Paris--where I obtained an insight into the manners and customsof that gay capital.
"My father had a sister living in London--a rich widow, who had an onlydaughter. I called on them two or three times, as I could not wellavoid doing so. I was not infatuated with my cousin, nor did my visitsbeget in my mind any great affection for my aunt.
"Her husband had been dead several years before that time. He had beenrelated to a family of title, and on his death had left a fortune to hiswidow of about fifty thousand pounds.
"My father considered his sister a person of great consequence in thekingdom; and used to keep up a regular correspondence with her.
"When I was about twenty-two, I received a letter from him, commandingme forthwith to marry my cousin!
"He had made the match with my aunt, without consulting my wishes.
"The deluded man thought the plan he had formed for me, would make me avery great personage. But I could not regard the affair in the samelight.
"Soon after receiving my father's orders, my aunt sent me a note--containing a request for me to call upon her.
"I complied; and found that she considered the thing as quite settled,that I was forthwith to marry my cousin. In fact, my aunt at thisinterview had a good deal to say about preparations for the ceremony!
"My cousin was neither personally good-looking, nor interesting in anyway. On the contrary, she had a disposition exceedingly disagreeable;and, to crown all, she was a full half-dozen years older than myself.
"Soon after that interview with my English relatives, I embarked forSydney. I had been for some time anxious to return home. As I havetold you, New South Wales is my native country; and I prefer it to anyother. I had seen enough of Europe; and longed to gallop a horse overthe broad plains of my native land.
"On my return home, and reporting that I had _not_ married my richcousin, my father flew into a great passion, and refused to haveanything farther to do with me.
"I tried to reason with him; but it was of no use. It ended by histurning me out of his house; and telling me to go and earn my ownliving. This I did for some time, by driving a hackney coach throughthe streets of Sydney.
"My father, on finding that I was man enough to take care of myself,without requiring any assistance from him, began to take a littleinterest in my affairs. In doing so, he discovered something else--thatcaused him quite as much displeasure as my refusal to marry my Englishcousin.
"He learnt that I was making serious love to a poor, but honest girl,who, with her mother, scarce earned a subsistence, by toiling fourteenhours a day with her needle.
"To think I should let slip a woman with fifty thousand pounds--and whocould claim relationship with a family of title--and then marry a poorsewing girl, was proof to my father that I was a downright idiot; and,from that hour, he refused to acknowledge me as his son.
"When gold was discovered in these diggings, I gave up my hackneybusiness, took an affectionate leave of my girl; and came out here.
"I've been lucky; and I shall start to-morrow for Sydney. I shall findthe one I love waiting for me--I hope, with some impatience; and, if Idon't miscalculate time, we shall be married, before I've been a week inSydney.
"I am young, and have health and strength. With these advantages, Ishould not consider myself a man, if, in a new world like this, Iallowed my warmest inclinations to be subdued by the selfish worldlyinfluences, that control the thoughts and actions of European people."
I believe the company were a little disappointed in the "Elephant's"story. From the remarkable character of the man, and the evidence ofsuperior polish and education--exhibited both in his bearing andconversation--all had expected a more interesting narrative--somethingmore than the tale he had told us, and which was altogether too simpleto excite their admiration. Some of them could not help expressingtheir surprise--at what they pronounced the silliness of the "Elephant,"in "sacking" a fine lady with _fifty thousand pounds_, and anaristocratic connection, for a poor Sydney sempstress. To many of them,this part of the story seemed scarce credible, though, for my part, Ibelieved every word of it.
Reasoning from what I knew of the character of the narrator, I feltconvinced that he was incapable of telling an untruth--even to amuse hisaudience; and I doubted not that he had refused his rich English cousin;and was really going to marry the poor sewing girl of Sydney.
In judging of the Elephant--to use his own words--I did not allow my"inclinations to be subdued by the selfish worldly influences, thatcontrol the thought
s and actions of European people."
Volume Three, Chapter XVII.
SAILOR BILL'S LIFE YARN.
As the autobiography of the "Elephant," had been of too common-place acharacter to create any excitement, there was but little interruption inthe proceedings; and Sailor Bill, according to the conditions, was nextcalled upon to spin the yarn of his life.
Without any formality, he at once responded to the call.
"When a very small boy," began he, "I was what is called a gutterurchin, or `mud lark,' about the streets and docks of Liverpool. It wasnot exactly the business for which I had been intended. When veryyoung, I had been bound apprentice to a trade I did not much like, andto a master I liked still less. In fact, I hated the master so much, asto run away both from him and his trade; and became a ragged wanderer inthe streets.
"The profits of this
