TAKE HER UP TENDERLY.

Auckland Star, Volume V, Issue 1489, 18 November 1874, Page 5 (Supplement)

TAKE HER UP TENDERLY.

A LONG ISLAND SOUND TRAGEDY —THE FATE OP AN ANONYMA. A combination of circumstances led tne to become a frequent passenger, in the summer of 18—, on a steamboat leaving the wharves of New York, whose destination was Boston. A person "who had been fortunate enough to make this journey in favourable weather need not be told that the trip is delightful, particularly so if it be made in one of those "floating palaces" belonging to the Pall Biver Line. •On one of these occasions, just before the boat started, a pretty gir], of perhaps seventeen or eighteen, stepped aboard, inquired for the steward, and secured a stateroom, saying she was going through to Boston. Her manner was easy and self-possessed ; yet a certain audacious sauciness in her splendid brown eyes, the jaunty way in which she wore her Tm-kish hat, her independent air, and a nameless suggestion of mischief which appeared to lurk in every movement, arrested the observer's attention, and seemed to indicate that she was proficient beyond her years in the world's knowledge; that her tutelage, to say the least, had partaken more of lenience than of prudence. Her dress was rich, and exquisitely becoming, but with no attempt at conspicuous ornament. Her hair was of the same rich brown color as her eyes, and fell down to her waist, resting as lovely on her fair young shoulders, as if each separate hair were endowed with electric life. From the moment the vessel started she was the target of universal attention. The ladies eyed her very narrowly, and criticised her dress and manner with that merciless severity known only to the gentler sex. The gentlemen cast sly glances of admiration from beneath their hats and behind their newspapers ; and the gravest of them looked more amiable at sight of her bright eyes and childish countenance. As we swept ont into the Sound she came on deck, where most of the gentlemen and several ladies were congregated, and directed a fusilade of small conversation at the captain, addressing him in a tone of reckless levity, and with a familiarity which startled the ladies and amused the gentlemen ; and otherwise conducting Jiei'self in a manner which left no doubt as to her f ocial status- In less than ten minutes every lady on board was her avowed enemy, and not at all afraid to let it be known ; tut she chattered on in her rollicking way, regardless of smiles or frowns — apparently the irredeemable devotee of thoughtlessness aud folly. The afternoon drifted slowly by, freighted with a delicious langor, as the majestic vessel swept onward through the waste of waters. The passengers lounged listlessly from deck to cabin, reading, drowsing or musing, as their various temperaments inclined them, but all yielding, to some extent, to the dreamy contentment which seemed to pervade the atmosphere. We were all on deck shortly after tea, admiring the sunset, which flooded the sea and sky with atransforming splendor. It was a gay company; not a sad face could be found amongst us all. The tooIntense heat of the day had subsided, and a soft breeze had sprung up: to "breathe the air was, In itself, an inspiration. Our irrepressible and too-confiding young-lady passenger was there, and her childish laugh rang out above the rest. She had selected the good-natured captain and one or two of his officers a3 the especial objects of her flippant, though by no means vicious raillery ; and they permitted it, partly from an acqiured habit of affability toward all passengers, and partly because they were amused by her irresistible vivacity. The lady passengers, of course, shunned and kept aloof from her as from a noxious poison, as if her very contact would breed pestilence. The gentlemen did likewise to a great extent; more, I believe, from a tender regard forfeminine opinion than from any considerable instinct of horror. Suddenly the smile died on her lips, and her face became inexpressible sad and earnest as she gazed far out across the water. Her attitude and expression, as she stood thus, formed a picture which will never fade in my memoiy; she looked so innocent, so childlike, and so intensely sorrowful. :In amement she turned to the captain, with something of her old manner. Beaching up her delicate white hands, she took hold of his abundant whiskers, on each side of his face, as the reader has seen a petted daughter caress her father, and looking up in his face, asked, with great solemnity: " Did you ever want to die, Captain ?" " "Well, no, my child," he replied,some"what surprised at her changed manner, " I can't say that I ever had a great desire to die." ** And if you had such a desire, what would you do V " Oh! in that case," said he, as he loosed her hands and turned away, " I think, as it would be the most available method, I should jump overboard and drown myself." Scarcely had he finished speaking, when she whirled,-put one hand on the railing, and leaped into the Sound. The whole movement was so instantaneous that it was impossible for any one to anticipate or prevent it. A cry of horror went up from those who saw the movement. Some stood transfixed and unable to move, while ' others hurried about in «onfused txcite-

I merit. The captain and his crew worked like the noble men they were, and had the boats lowered and manned almost . instantly. A moment after her disappearance she came to the surface. There was nothing scared in her expression, and she made no struggle to save herself. I saw her lace distinctly, as she came up, and fancied I could detect in it the same sorrowful look it had worn a few moments before ; though even that expression could not wholly deprive it of ' a certain jaunty grace which became it well. It was only a momentary glimpse which we had of her; for she disappeared just as the first boat touched the water, and wenevet saw her afterwards, though every possible effort was made to find her. I think I never saw sadder men than those rough sailors when they pulled the heavy yawl alongside and replied, to a hundred simultaneous interrogatories, "We found no trace of her at all." And those gentle ladies, who shrank with such aversion from her half an hour before, had many a tender utterance for her now, and could not voice their pity when they knew that, while she laughed the loudest, the homeless child's poor heart was breaking. And later, when, on looking through her state-room, they found a little sachel, and in it, among other trifles, a crumpled bit of note-paper, with verses written on it in a small, cramped hand, the pure, sweet tears of human sympathy, as they read, fell on the paper like benison. I preserved a copy of the verses, and will reproduce them here. lam unable to say whether they were original or no. If a quotation, I have never been so fortunate as to read them in any published book : A magdalen's death. I can no longer endure this polluting, This festering; breath ; Gladly I fly to the refuge that's left me — Merciful death. Not sadly, fearfully, But gladly, cheerfully, Go to my death. Priests may refuse to grant sanctified burial Here unto me; Father, I thank Thee ! a blessing is always held Over the sea, Aye, in its wildest foam, Aye, in its thickest gloom, Blest is the sea. Welcome, 0 sea ! with thy breakings and dashings, That never shall cease ; Down in thy angriest, stormiest waters Oh, hide me in peace. Say to the weary face, " Come to thy resting-place, Slumber in peace." This was all. No clew to tell if there were any on earth to whom she had been dear. No last word for those who might perhaps wait patiently to leai'n her fate, but wait in vain, until painful apprehension subsided into calm despair. No explanation of the motives of that rashness which thus had set its daring foot upon the laws of nature, which are the laws of God. We know the deep sea holds many secrets such as these, which never will be fathomed till the end ot time ; and knowing this is it the part of manhood or of womanhood to sit in judgment on that which the Creator has folded in mystery 1 For what power, save the far-reaching Prescience of Almighty God, can lay bare the complex motives of the human heart % Is it more than justice to demand that judgment be suspended until the sea gives up its dead, and the dead give up their awful secrets. I have no sympathy with that apotheosis of vice'which would, in any case, exalt the wanton into an heroine ; but, in* all sincerity, is it not time that she received more of charity and less of censure, more of pity and less of scorn, from those who can afford to be magnanimous ? For what, among earth's meanest creatures, receives less of charity and more of censure than she 1 And surely, nothing in heaven or earth stands more in need of pity, or less receives it.