d
row a boat, carry a creel, or drive a cart with the best of them; and,
whilst her frame was thus hardened, her limbs acquired a consistency and
proportion which bespoke the buxom woman rather than the bonny lass. Her
eye, however, was large and brown, and her lips had that variety of
expression which lips only can exhibit. Many a jolly fisher wished and
attempted to press these lips to his; but was always repulsed. She
neither spoke of her Thomas, nor did she grieve for him much in secret;
but her heart revolted from a union with any other person whilst Thomas
might still be alive. Upon a person differently situated, the passion
(for passion assuredly it was) which she entertained for her absent
lover, might and would have produced very different effects. Had Sarah
been a young boarding-school miss, she would assuredly either have
eloped with another, or have died in a madhouse; had she been a
sentimental sprig of gentility, consumption must have followed: but
Sarah was neither of these. She had a heart to feel, and deeply too; but
she knew that labour was her destiny, and that when "want came in at the
door, love escapes by the window." So she just laboured, laughed, ate,
drank, and slept, very much like other people. Yet few sailors came to
the place whom she did not question about Thomas; and many a time and
oft did she retire to the rocks of a Sabbath eve, to think of and pray
for Thomas Laing. People imagine, from the free and open mariner, and
talk of the fisherwomen, that they are all or generally people of
doubtful morality. Never was there a greater mistake. To the public in
general they are inaccessible; they almost universally intermarry with
one another; and there are fewer cases (said my reverend informant) of
public or sessional reproof in Cellardykes, than in any other district
of my parish. But, from the precarious and somewhat solitary nature of
their employment, they are exceedingly superstitious; and I had access
to know, that many a sly sixpence passed from Sally's pocket into old
Effie the wise woman's, with the view of having the cards cut and cups
read for poor Thomas.

Time, however, passed on--with time came, but did not pass misfortune.
Sally's father, who had long been addicted, at intervals, to hard
drinking, was found one morning dead at the bottom of a cliff, over
which, in returning home inebriated, he had tumbled. There were now
three sisters, all below twelve, to provide for, and Sally