Another Magdalena, a tidy, smart, smirking, “d—l, may care” sort of a wench appeared next to make answer to the commission of certain peccadilloes.
“Don’t be grinning here, Madam,” said a constable surlily, as a smile was in the act of dimpling the brow of the frail one.
“Silence, Sir,” was promptly thundered from the judgement seat.—”How dare you interfere? “What is the complaint?” said the sitting Magistrate.
“Why, your Worship,” answered a female personage who was standing by, “this young woman was assigned to my service from the ship Elizabeth, which came here with female prisoners about ten or twelve weeks ago. I keeps a public house, your Worship, and my place is continually filled with young fellows, who come hunting after the young woman, and the consequence is, that she runs away and leaves me for whole hours together, and when she comes back, and I task her with where she has been to, she replies, “Lord, mistress, I have only been as far as the dress-maker’s.”
Now the complainant finding that her woman’s visit to the dress-maker’s was more frequent daily, and that hourly there was more and more gadding, gadding, gadding still—still on the ramble, and no great prospect of a change for the better, so many traps lay in the road of the wench, and she made slips so frequently, that the mistress wished to resign the woman’s services. She was accordingly destined to become for a season an inmate of the factory at Parramatta.
See Original: “OFFENCES,” The Australian (Sydney, NSW: 1824 – 1848), Friday 2 May 1828, p.3