30th.—Sixteen months have elapsed since I left Dublin, and precisely a year from the day of my arrival here; within that little year what changes at home what a change in myself! what a change in my own people!
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I met Captain Ellis (the brother of the master in chancery) the other day at a mess dinner in Perth. On my return home, I began to cut hay in partnership with Mr. B.—This mem should have come in before—but it is all the same.
After dinner on this same anniversary day of my arrival, I went to examine Captain Irwin's grounds and gardens, and gave him fifteen pounds of potatoes; took tea at Mr. Burgess, and returned at night; on the opposite side of the river, shouted for my boat, "A boat, a boat unto the ferry," but all my people were asleep, so that I was obliged to swim for it; the water was then rather cool, though in the middle of the day it is warm.
31st.—I this day opened my last cask of Sherlock's pork; it has kept perfectly sweet, and would now bring a very high price here. Perhaps I am the only person in possession of one cask. Ten guineas per barrel have been paid for Irish pork, and Mr. Labertouche must have made a considerable profit by sending his vessel here always at this time or a little before it.
My outfield of wheat is almost a failure, but wherever there were ashes a good patch appears.
