I cried aloud to Heaven to help me--where should I bury my little child?
I cannot tell how the idea first occurred to me.

The waves came in with a soft, murmuring melody, a sweet, silvery hush, and I thought the deep, green sea would make a grave for my little one.

It was mad and wicked I know now; I can see how horrible it was; it did not seem to be so then.

I only thought of the sea then as my best friend, the place where I was to hide the beloved little body, the clear, green grave where she was to sleep until the Judgment Day.

I waited until--it is a horrible thing to tell you! but I fell asleep--fast asleep, and of all the horrors in my story, the worst part is that, sitting by the sea, fast asleep myself, with my little, dead babe on my knee.
"When I awoke the tide was coming in full and soft, and swift-running waves, the sun had set, and a thick, soft gloom had fallen over everything, and then I knew the time had come for what I wanted to do.".