himself, living
but a few yards distant, had done for him what was absolutely
necessary, and what he had been unable to do for himself; but
her interest had naturally been in her own house, not in his.

Now that he announced to her that he was about to marry, Sarah
Rocliffe was angry. She had made up her mind that Jonas would
continue a "hudger," and that his house and land would fall to
her son, after his demise. This was perhaps an unreasonable
expectation, especially as her own conduct had precipitated the
engagement; but it was natural. She partook of the surly disposition
of her brother. She could not exist without somebody or something
to fall out with, to scold, to find fault with. Her incessant
recrimination had at length aroused in Jonas the resolve to cast
her wholly from his dwelling, to have a wife of his own, and to
be independent of her service.

Sarah Rocliffe ascertained that she had overstepped the mark in
quarrelling with her brother, but instead of blaming herself she
turned the fault on the head of the inoffensive girl who was to
supplant her. She resolved not to welcome her sister-in-law with
even a semblance of cordiality.

Nor were the other colonists of the Bowl favorably disposed. It
was a tradition among them that they should inter-marry. This
rule had once been broken through with disastrous results. The
story shall be told presently.

The squatter families of the Punch-Bowl hung together, and when
Sarah Rocliffe took it in dudgeon that her brother was going to
marry, then the entire colony of Rocliffes, Boxalls, Nashes, and
Snellings adopted her view of the case, and resented the engagement
as though it were a slight cast on them.

As if the Bowl could not have provided him with a mate meet for
him! Were there no good wenches to be found there, that he must
go over the lips to look for a wife? The girls within the Bowl,
thanks be, had all surnames and kindred. Matabel had neither.

It was not long before Bideabout saw that his engagement to
Mehetabel was viewed with disfavor by him immediate neighbors,
but he was not the man to concern himself about their opinions.
He threw about his jibes, which did not tend to make things
better. The boys in the Bowl had concocted a jingle which they
sang under his window, or cast at him from behind a hedge, and
then ran away lest he should fall on them with a stick. This was
their rhyme:--

"A harnet lived in an 'ollow tree,
A proper spit