The woman who was to be disposed of was in the room, seated on the edge of a table, and swinging her legs about with perfect nonchalance. One of her eyes bore, in distinct characters of a purplish hue, some evidence of a very late disagreement with her husband, or some one else. She seemed much pleased at the commotion she was causing; and quite indifferent as to its results. She was about twenty-three years of age; and rather good-looking.
The husband was about forty years old; and was a vulgar looking wretch—even for a “Vandemonian.” His features were twisted into a disgusting leer, from which I could well fancy they were but seldom relieved.
I was not surprised at the woman seeming pleased at the idea of parting with him. My wonder was, how he had ever been allowed to obtain the power of disposing of her.
There was not a man in the room, or perhaps on the diggings, that any creature entitled to the name of woman, should not have preferred, to the ugly animal who claimed to be her husband.
I could perceive from the woman’s behaviour, that she possessed a violent temper, which to an ignorant brute of a man, would no doubt render her difficult of being managed. But there appeared to be nothing more against her—at least, nothing to prevent a man of common sense from living with her, and having no more serious misunderstandings, than such as are usually required to vary the monotony of connubial life.
The business of getting up the raffle, and carrying it through, was managed by a young man, who played the part of mutual friend—the proprietor of the article at stake, being to all appearance too drunk, or too ignorant, to act as master of the ceremonies.
After a sufficient number of persons was thought to have arrived upon the ground, it was decided to go on with the business of discovering: to whom fate should decree the future ownership of the woman.
“Gentlemen!” said the mutual friend, rising up, and placing himself upon a chair, “I suppose you all know the game that’s up here to-night? I believe that most of you be aware, that my friend ‘Brumming’ here, can’t agree with his old woman, nor she with him; and he have come to the resolution of getting rid of her. He thinks he’d be better off without a woman, than with one, ’specially with one as he can’t agree with. And she thinks any other man be better than Ned ‘Brumming.’ Such being the case, they think they had better part. Now, ‘Brumming’ wants a little money to take him over to the other side; and to rise it for him, his friends have been called together, and his woman is going to be put up at a raffle for fifty pounds—twenty-five chances at two pounds a chance. Mrs Brumming is willing to live with any man, as will support her, and use her kindly. Who is going to help poor Ned Brumming? What name shall I first put down on this ’ere paper?”
“Dirty Dick,” “Jack Rag,” “Hell Fryer,” “Shiny Bright,” and several other names were called out—to the number of twenty.
It was then announced that five names were still wanted to complete the list.