9 o'clock at night.—These plaguy natives have stolen one of my pigs. They are sad hypocrites: those very four who were here were, I suspect, privy to, if not active in, the theft. I had some suspicion on this point in the morning, but they assured me "No, no, Mitzer Moore; no, gyddyell;"—and pretended to be so very angry with some whom they named, that I believed them sincere. It is difficult to ascertain the real fact. I wish it was either peace or war between us; but now we must not touch them, for by proclamation they are declared under the protection of the law, as British subjects.
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The British lucerne which I sowed, is coming up well: our native lucerne is like it in woody stem, but stronger; its leaves are more like those of the pea, and taste like them; it bears a pea-pod also, and has a red pea blossom. Red clover thrives here better than white. A person who has got Col. Laton's grant, on the opposite side of the river (opposite J. H. Wright's), is parcelling it out to labourers, and there are already four different lots taken by persons of that class, from twenty to one hundred acres. This has cut up all his grant, for the whole frontage is given away; but he is no farmer; and as he intends keeping a store, it will answer his purpose. This subdivision of land will be very serviceable to