On Wednesday, after a few Bachanals [sic] of the night preceding had been disposed of, either assigned to the common stocks, or liberated on payment of the customary elemosinery [sic: eleemosynary] mulet, on the oaths of sundry men of the peace, or constables—a Benedict applied to pour some portion of his wedded griefs into the sympathetic bosom of the Bench. The wife of his bosom, he said, was most affectionately addicted to tippling all manner of liquors from Cooper’s gin, and good clear glibly slipping-down-throat-stuff it is, to the pure water of life,—and moreover, she utterly abhorred any and every diluent—she always took her drops “nate,” and that whenever she could muster a tester she indulged her “itch,” and the house was too hot to hold her, which caused the poor Benedict to pass many a weary hour, and to wish her and himself at times, most heartily, at old Nick. If such were the joys of wedlock, to the infernal gentleman would he pitch them, and curse the day he had adventured into the matrimonial lottery. The “gude wife” could answer these complaints in nothing, but with sundry simpers and sobs, as though she dropt the big drops of contrition, but in vain did she strive to extenuate her failing. Six weeks was she condemned to the third class in the Factory, thence to be returned to the dwelling of her complaining spouse.
See Original: “POLICE INCIDENTS,” The Australian (Sydney, NSW : 1824 – 1848) Tuesday 12 May 1829, p.3