As Bro. Bullock is writing I will add a few lines.
I passed your wheat field a short time since; the men were harvesting
it—it was middling good; some thought there would be a thousand
bushels of it, but I think not quite so much—it looked well. I was
glad to see you have so much. I called at your house a short
time since, and was in your garden with sister Rich—she gave
me some heads of her Australian wheat, which much resembles
barley in appearance, but when thrashed is a fine looking grain.
I am taking good care of it for seed. Sister Rich was well. James
Townsend has returned from California and Carson Valley, and gives
a bad report of both places—he preached last Sunday upon the subject.
We are having a very dry season, and have hard work to save our
crops—there is but very little water. We are almost universally in the
midst of our wheat harvest; I shall raise wheat enough to bread my
family this year, and perhaps a little more. We are all well excepting
that I am suffering with the rhuematism. I should be pleased to
hear from you at any time. I am trying to get some good apples
and other fruit from abroad to improve my orchards as far Ias I
can; if you can help me any in it I should be thankful.