"Yon is our quay!
Hark to the clamour in that miry road,
Bounded and narrowed by yon vessel's load;
The lumbering wealth she empties round the place,
Package and parcel, hogshead, chest, and case;
While the loud seaman and the angry hind,
Mingling in business, bellow to the wind."
--CRABBE.
Mary staggered into the house. Mrs. Jones placed her tenderly in a chair, and there stood bewildered by her side.
"O father! father!" muttered she, "what have you done!--What must I do? must the innocent die?--or he--whom I fear--I fear--oh! what am I saying?" said she, looking round affrighted, and, seemingly reassured by Mrs. Jones's countenance, "I am so helpless, so weak-- but a poor girl, after all. How can I tell what is right? Father! you have always been so kind to me,--and you to be--n
