Page:Extracts from the letters and journals of George Fletcher Moore.djvu/179

 Rh every night since I left Ireland, when I was noting my journal. I cannot get one here at any price, and beg that you will send me one.

28th.—Nothing surprises me more than that we never baked our own bread at home. Nothing is more simple. The produce of an acre of wheat would supply your family for a year. A hand-mill, sieve, and metal oven are the only machinery required. There is no mystery in baking, where fraudulent adulterations are not particularly desired.

29th.—Read a sermon of Burder's this day; and dined on four crows and a quail. The latter flew across the river from a fire which was spreading near it, and took refuge almost at my door, reversing the adage, and coming out of the fire into the frying-pan. It was a pity to shoot it, but——. I drank tea in the evening with Mrs. Tanner, and promised to dine on Monday with Mr. and Mrs. Brown, who have informed me that Captain B., of the Merope, who has a farm in Van Diemen's Laud, wishes to have a large grant on the Swan River—does not this promise much in favour of our colony?

30th.—I have contrived to mend the broken stock of a gun, and planted three hundred cabbage plants. Remarked at night that the cat lay with her back to the fire—a sure indication of storm; shut up my windows close, in the anticipation of it, and went to bed early.

May 1st.—The cat was right—dark morning,