About seven miles to the north of Ballarat, some new diggings called
the Eureka have been discovered, where it appears that, although there
are no immense prizes, there are few blanks, and every one doing well!
In describing the road from Melbourne to Geelong, I have made
mention of the Broken River. A few weeks after my arrival in the
colonies this river was the scene of a sad tragedy.
I give the tale, much in the same words as it was given to me, because
it was one out of many somewhat similar, and may serve to show the
state of morality in Melbourne.
The names of the parties are, of course, entirely fictitious.
* * * * *
Prettiest among the pretty girls that stood upon the deck as the anchor
of the Government immigrant ship 'Downshire' fell into Hobson's Bay, in
August, 1851, was Mary H - - , the heroine of my story. No regret
mingled with the satisfaction that beamed from her large dark eyes, as
their gaze fell on the shores of her new country, for her orphan
brother, the only relative she had left in their own dear Emerald Isle,
was even then preparing to follow her. Nor could she feel sad and
lonely whilst the rich Irish brogue, from a subdued but manly and
well-loved voice, fell softly on her ear, and the gentle
pressure of her hand continually reminded her that she was not alone.
