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THE PURSER'S DAUGHTER.

CHAP. I.

(A Tale.)

BY LADY S-.

Captain Moses Brown, as he liked to be called, though he had no right in the world to the appellation of captain, really being only purser of a man of war, was a respectable man in his way, rough as a Polar bear, using at times most forcible language, quite unfit for ears polite, apt to indulge when at home in violent passions, still, honest and trustworthy, fulfilling all the duties of the situation in which providence had placed him, to the perfect satisfaction of his superior officers and the ship's company generally. To look at this rough specimen of the genus homo, you would hardly have thought it possible for this man ever to have felt the tender passion of love; you could never have fancied he could in any sort of way have framed that rough voice of his to a tender tone, have ever been in a melting mood, or that he could ever have asked a beautiful woman to love him and become his wife, yet once when on shore a longer period than usual he married, for when my story begins he was a widower, with two daughters. The eldest, Beatrice, was a fine handsome girl, with large dark eyes, a nose which betrayed, however remote and mixed with other races, that she originally sprang from Jewish origin; a large mouth, with a good-humoured expression of countenance, but with nothing showing much intellect. You have now before you Beatrice Brown. I ought perhaps to add, she was rather above than below the middle height. One evening her father hearing her sing a little childish song, in tolerable tune, voice and time, for her age, resolved that she should be taught music as a profession. It was a sad day for the little girl when he took this determination, for adieu to all her pretty dolls, her play things, donkeyrides &c.; music was now to be the order of the day, and as long as it was possible to keep a young child of her age practising music and singing, was now the doom of poor little Beatrice; any complaints made by her instruc

tors were punished by her father, with the utmost severity, in which he was ably seconded by a maiden aunt, his half sister, Miss Abigail Flint, who, when Captain Brown's engagements took him to sea, enforced all his orders respecting his eldest daughter's musical education in the most stringent manner. Judith, the second daughter's lot in life, was a happier one: plain in person, with no talents but homely, useful ones; never aspiring higher than making her father a set of shirts, the preparing the plain dinner of roast or boiled joints, simple pudding, with sometimes the addition of fish, brought home in her father's hand, wrapped up in a piece of old newspaper, not over clean, and on high days and holidays, such as the anniversary of the battle of the Nile, compounding hot grog and punch for the party, and at other times assisting the little maid of all-work, and on washing days doing nearly all the ironing. Such was Judith's mode of spending her time; and, though many of these employments seem sordid and mean, and I am quite sure Beatrice's pretty fingers would never have condescended to one quarter of them, still she envied Judith, her quiet, and the praise she generally received.

One frosty winter's evening, Judith was assisting Susan in the kitchen to fold the towels and linen just come from the mangle, the kitchen looking the cleanest of kitchens; the fire burnt cheeringly in the grate, the saucepans and kettle shone as bright as rubbing could make them, the plates and dishes were neatly arranged, the tortoiseshell cat sat purring in the chimney corner, when Beatrice stept lightly into what she was pleased to call her sister's dominions, to, as she said, warm her fingers by the fire. "Ah, Judy," she exclaimed, as she looked round the bright warm kitchen, "it is well to be you, so comfortable here, no one to find fault with you; here have I had to play, I am sure, what with singing and practising, at least four or five mortal hours to day, I am so heartily tired of it; and Aunt Abigail-cross old thingsays, unless I know my lesson quite perfect by

nine o'clock to-morrow for Signor Romano, she will give me nothing but water-gruel for my dinner, and that she knows when our father returns home in the evening, if any fault is found, I shall catch it. I wish I were you; I would even like to change places with that little cat there, and eat mice sooner than remain as I am, a slave to the piano. I hate music, always shall hate it, and that with a bitter hate. Oh, that dreadful cross Signor, he is so severe, he does so box my ears if I do but play or sing only the ghost of a wrong note; do try, Judy dear, see if you can sing, then you could take my place upstairs, and I would try and do your work in this bright kitchen."

Judith smiled, kissed her sister, then, continuing her employment, merely said, "You would soon tire, dear Ciss, of my work, you are the lady of the family, at your piano. Aunt Abigail told Miss Wilcox the other day you may perhaps by your voice, when you are older, earn a lot of money, while I shall never rise higher than being a sort of servant; so, dear, you had better return to your practising.'

such portions as were not entirely spoilt, were, I believe, saved, and served up in the best way possible by a neighbour's clever wife, who volunteered her services in the hour of distress. Captain Brown was frequently very angry at the various petty domestic miseries it was now his fate to encounter; but the predominant idea in his mind was what might eventually, with good management, be made of Beatrice's musical abilities. If they could be turned to a tolerable account, a good clever housekeeper and a respectable servant might be well afforded.

A few days after this cogitation, the captain invited some musical friends of wide-world celebrity to dine with him, "to eat his mutton and place their feet under his mahogany," as he elegantly expressed it; he asked Il Signor Marco, La Signora Monaco, and many more Signors and grand musical performers, whose names I can scarcely remember. To provide for their proper entertainment, Captain Brown took very good care sometime previous to the party to beg his married daughter Judith, now Mrs. Coulson, to Time passed on, Beatrice grew up a fine take the management of his house for the day, young woman, her features were perhaps a and also requested her to bring one of her own trifle too large and masculine, still she was a servants with her: Mr. Coulson was of course handsome girl. During the last few years invited. Beatrice was bidden to practice her many changes had taken place: Judith, the best songs most diligently. The important day plain Judith, had married, and really married arrived, the captain bought the provisions, all well, considering her position in life and the few good of their kind, which were well opportunities she had possessed of making any cooked under the careful direction of Judith-I acquaintances. The young man to whom she beg her pardon-Mrs. Coulson, who had was united was a stationer, with a little money brought with her a few trifles in the shape of of his own, a tolerable connection, and already pastry, creams, and fruit, which greatly added a much improving trade, owing to his great in- to, and smartened up, the dinner. All went off dustry and good knowledge of business. Miss well, everything looked nice, the guests seemed Abigail Flint had quietly departed this life, satisfied with their entertainment. After tea having been suddenly seized with a faintness, Beatrice was desired by her father to sing to after a great spring cleaning of the house, from the musical judges assembled to pass sentence which attack of illness she never rallied. Cap- upon her voice; gladly would the poor girl have tain Brown found his hitherto bright, cheerful escaped this trying ordeal, had such a thing home not what it had been; his house, small as it been possible, but Captain Brown's orders in was, untidy and comfortless, his dinners ill- his own family were absolute commands, not to cooked and badly arranged, his little maid-of- be trifled with; so, blushing and frightened, all-work dirty and slatternly-looking, now that she took her place by the piano. Il Signor all was left to the sole superintendence and di- Romano playing the accompaniment, she sang rection of his eldest daughter; for Beatrice, some Italian songs, then German, and, lastly, though she could now play you an overture, two English ballads. Never in outward apsing you a song out of many an opera with tole-pearance had Beatrice looked so well as she rable execution and many good notes in her voice, still, she could neither help or direct the cooking of even the plainest dinners, or could she mend her father's linen or even iron his shirts. Had she been obliged to give the servant exact orders how the dinners should be cooked, I greatly fear it would have been somewhat in the fashion of a curious story I once heard respecting a very ignorant batchelor's cook, hired with a wonderful character, particularly as regarded her culinary abilities. She had, soon after her arrival, a good dinner to cook for her master's friends, and it is said she actually boiled the turbot, leg of lamb and vegetables altogether, The fragments, or rather all

did on this evening. She was dressed in a deep blue cashmere, with some cerise riband in her hair, the colour contrasting well with her dark braids, the rich blushes mantling on her cheek, increased by her timidity at being obliged to sing before so many strangers, whose excellent ears would quickly discern the slightest fault. It, however, only added greatly to her good looks; it was the hitherto childish girl suddenly springing into charming womanhood. Several of the professional people assembled kindly favoured their host with some delightful music, then La Signora Monaco was obliged to leave for a private engagement at the house of a rich lady who was giving that evening a soirée musicale,

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