ROMANTIC HISTORY OF A BARMAID.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2206, 14 April 1880, Page 3

ROMANTIC HISTORY OF A BARMAID.

Byron says that truth is strange — stranger than fiction. We might cite many incidents within our own knowledge illustrative of the accuracy of Byron’s affirmation. A short time ago a pressman sent to an Australian periodical, in the form of a story, the account of the marriage, early death, and burial of a Victorian maiden. The story contained nothing but facts which had come within the personal knowledge of the contributor. But the facts were so startling as to appear wholly incredible, and the editor of the periodical in question returned the manuscript to the author, informing him in a very kind note that whenever he wrote fiction his contributions would, as they had previously been, be welcome and well paid for, but that this narrative of facts was so startling that no one would it. Now, there has just occurred in Wellington, an incident which, though not so startling as the one above alluded to, yet shows in a very forcible way the chances and changes of colonial life. Many years ago, perhaps nearly a quarter of a century, two youngsters met, loved and married in Victoria. The courtship had been yery short,

’ and the marriage was' not happy. 'Tim ■'unhappy pair.” idler living for six months together in a cat and-dog ■ stvle, separated for ever. The husband bolted for a new rush which had broken out ,in a remote part of Hew South Wales. Subsequently the young wife gave birth to a girl, but the mother died ere the little one was three hours old. Some good old lady adopted the child and.reared it. This lady brought up Iho child in good style, giving her a fashionable education. However, when the “ Black Wednesday ” dismissals from the Victorian Civil service took place, the lady’s husband lost his billet, and as he had not saved much money, the wolf soon appeared at the door of the erstwhile happy household. The husband sickened and died. The widow and her adopted daughter were thrown upon their own resources. Times were very bad indeed. The young lady tric’d for a situation as governess, but the market was overcrowded, and she ■did not succeed in obtaining a situation. At last she had to accept a situation as barmaid. Soon after this her foster mother caught tho typhoid fever, then very prevalent in Melbourne, and in ten days she was laid alongside her husband in the general cemetery. The girl was afterwards offered a good situation as barmaid in a Dunedin hotel, which she accepted. Being possessed of considerable personal attractions, and being better educated than tho general run of barmaids, she became a light round which the jeuncssb dorce fluttered. Her fame reached Wellington, and she received a tempting offer from a bonifacc in the empire city. Being tired of the flatteries of fast men about town in Dunedin, and sick of their not “ proposing,” she gladly accepted the change of fresh fields and pastures new. In Wellington she was as successful as usual. The gay youths sported around her, but being of a practical turn of raiud she paid far more heed to the attentions of a middle-aged commercial traveller who seemed to ' have fallen desperately in love with her. She encouraged him ; ho proposed and was accepted. They plighted vows of eternal constancy, though Coleridge says that “constancy dwells in realms above.” Of course, tlic lover was curious to learn the history of his/iaacc. She told him the history of her life, even irora the date of her parents’ marriage. She noticed that he grew pale as the narraliyc went on. At last he started up in horror, and exclaimed “Why, you arc my own daughter!” Complete explanations were entered into, and the father rejoiced to have found, after an absence of twenty years, a daughter who was perfectly charming. All this occurred some months ago, and tlic young lady has since been married to a suitor whose pretensions she had previously despised. Chronicle.”