LADIES' COLUMN.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7506, 13 September 1902, Page 3

LADIES' COLUMN.

STORIES OF BRAVE WOMEN. . Heroes of Soul-stirring Dramas. That it is not the physically strong who are alone capable of acts of bravery was proved one day in May, 1890, by the act of a Mrs Dorothy Pumphrey, who was known to her neighbours as a particularly nervous, delicate and shy little woman. One afternoon, the child of a friend was playing near a well in her mother's garden, when she accidentally fell in, Mrs Pumphrey was one of two women, who, alarmed by the child's piercing screaE"^ ran to the spot. Without a moment's hesitation she stepped into the small, crazy bucket and asked to be lowered into the hole. Thirty or forty feet down she reached the surface of the water, leaned out of the bucket, and grasped tho child. Before ehe could drag, the little one in, however, the bucket overturned, leaving her hanging horn the chain — but still clutching the rescued child. There was a moment of awful suspense alike for the plucky woman and for the agonised watchers above. Presently a boy of fifteen was lowered by a rope t and Mrs Pumphrey relieved ; of her helpless burden. Then Mrs Pumphrey placed a foot in the bucket and signalled to be drawn up. But the strain, and perhaps the foul air, had been too much for her, and halfway to the surface she fainted. » The bucket swayed to the side, Mrs Pumphrey's right foot caught in the. chain, and she fell in the water head first. Revived by the sudden shock^ she was just able once more to clamber into the bucket, and in a terribly exhausted state was this time drawn safely to the top. , A lonely spot in Dorset was the scene of a deed of remarkable bravery combined with quick wit and intelligence. The heroine was a Miss Julia Hatcher, residing at Hayes Cottage, Moorside, one of two lonely cottages in a, field lying off the main, road to Blandford.' The attacker was an infuriated bull.' Miss Hatcher was busily engaged in glove-making when ' Bhe heard terrible screams. Rushing to the door £ she was horrified to find a huge bull tossing a lad who had been milking. Miss Hatcher lost neither* her nerve nor her presence of mind. Recollecting that bulls close their eyes when stoned^ she stooped hurriedly, picked Up an apronful, and began a vigorous "bombardment" of the animal. The heroic girl pressed forwaird to the attack; the animal, his attention diverted from his victim, charged several times, but was driven,- off by a well-sustained fire, and ul- , timately retreated, followed by an extra j volley, to complete the rout. Then Miss Hatcher picked up the boy* who was seriously injured,, and conveyed him unaided to her mother's cottage. Miss Kate Verity was one day reading in her room near the river wharf at lonton Falls, Skdpton, Yorkshire, when a child's screams attracted' her attention. Running over to the wharf, she found that a little fellow named fiarker had fallen into the river — swollen by heavy rains to double its usual size — and was being swept with appalling speed towards the Falls. . Like a flash Miss Verity was out and across the bridge above the Falls. Arriving level with the child about forty feet from the Falls, she dashed headlong into the river, caught little Harker, threw his head over her shoulder, and then, ipch by inch, fought her way to the bank and to safety. Very impressive is the tribute which has been erected at the entrance to the harbour at North , Berwick, in Scotland, . in commemoration of a noble and heroic sacrifice on the port of the girl of nineteen. Catherine Watson, of Glasgow, was staying with her family at North Berwick, ih a house on the East Bay 2 in the summer of 1889. One day she saw from her bedroom window that a young boy had been carried out of his depth, and was struggling vainly against the undercurrent. Without any delay or fear she rushed out half -dressed, plunged into the sea, and swam to the boy's rescue. She soon reached him. . Then began a splendid struggle between the brave, strong girl and a stronger and relentless sea. It ended in | her supporting the boy long enough for him to be saved whfcn other help, ait last readied him. By this time Miss Watson's strength had given out; the currents hod swept her beyond hope of rescue. A monu- j ment erected to Miss Watson's memory bears a medallion portrait, subscribed to and executed by her friends in the Glasgow School of- Art. From the site of themonument one looks over the sea to the Baas Rock, and views the place where Miss Watson ao nobly gave her life for another, j