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A most amusing scene of tragic romance was enacted the other day at Mr. Brockman's between two of his servants J G, a redheaded cow boy of 18, and Sally Cook, a nurse of 14. J got into a fit of jealous love, and she, in a fit of despair, took poison. He, in his agony, was desirous that another should shoot him, and, not succeeding in his wishes, he took poison also. Things looked alarming, and the doctor was sent for, who, after long examination, thought there was too much acting to be natural. However, he administered pretty strong emetics to both. This brought on an opening and relieving of the mind as well as the stomach, when the young lady very quaintly said to her dying swain "D'ye think I'd be such a fool as take poison? I'm sure I never thought you'd be such a fool either." The swain soon relieved himself from the stigma of such folly also; so the whole ended in their having a night's suffering under the operation of unsparing emetic, and being discharged from their services in the morning.
Oct. 15th.—Walked back to the hills to-day with the shepherd to look out for fresh pasture for the sheep. The natives are the chief terror, but there is fine feed. Have got home my iron plough, which has been at the blacksmith's to be mended; it is far superior to what I used in its place, though it wants some alteration. I shall have three or four acres fallowing for crop next year. I have two men out grubbing grass trees at £2 10s. an acre. These I burn and spread. I feel every day more reluctant to leave the farm. There is great talk just now of persons going over the hills to settle down with flocks—when they can get them. One man who went over there with a small flock in a small way, is now an independent man (all within three years). I drove down to Mr. Yule's yesterday with 62 lambs to have them weaned. He sends up as many to my place. This is the way we manage it.
Oct. 16th.—There are about 30 natives here. They sleep near
