“Come, Mother, be careful. Jump out, girls. Now, Mrs. C——, how welcome you are; and the dinner just ready! Ah! you need not tell me who gave you the sermon: he’s as good as the clock.” As the girls had all been to church, and there was no female servant in the house, the description of this rural home, and a short detail of the dinner, may be acceptable. The family room was large, with a commodious fire-place. The table was laid for twelve; the plates and dishes were of blue delf; the knives and forks looked bright and shiny. It may be remarked, that the Settler’s table in New South Wales is somewhat differently arranged from what one is accustomed to see in England, for here the knife and fork were placed at the right of the plate, while a chocolate-coloured tea-cup and saucer stood at the left; a refreshing cup of tea being made a part of the dinner repast. By the fire-place might be seen a large black pot, full of potatoes, with a white cloth laid on the top for the purpose of steaming them. Again, at the outer door might be noticed the son with a man-servant, looking into an oven, and drawing from thence a large hind-quarter of pork, followed by a peach pie. “Lend a hand here!” shouted the son. “Ah! I thought you could not do without me,” said the father. “Keep the youngsters out of the way, and look about you, girls;” cried the mother. Moving where I could better see the cause of the outcry, a round of beef, cut large and “handsome,” as the settlers say in the Bush, had been forced into a pot; but no fork, although a Bush-fork is rather a formidable tool, could remove it. “You ought to have put a cord round it,” remarked the mother. “Turn the pot on one side,” said the father. “Over with it; out with it; shake!—oh, here we have it now.” As the pot was removed, the beef was seen to advantage, reeking in a bright clean milk-pan.