Within a circuit of a few miles there are a number of excellent farms, on which neat buildings are erected for dwellings and dairy purposes. The principal products of these farms are potatoes, onions, cabbages, and the various garden vegetables, wheat, rye, and oats. Their wheat is good and sweet, but dark. Their oats, as they acknowledge themselves, scarcely deserve the name. They informed me that they raised three crops of potatoes during the year. Indian corn, too, is cultivated, but not to any extent. These farms are surrounded by the ordinary post and rail fence, made of the native mahogany--as it never requires renewing on account of decay. The raspberry-jam, a wood resembling in smell the berry of that name, and susceptible of a beautiful polish, is found abundantly in the neighborhood: this is a handsome wood, and when recently fractured or sawn, the odor is delightful. Vessels arrive and depart from here at stated intervals, carrying lumber to Adelaide; they only take the mahogany, which is used for sleepers to the railway in process of construction there. These crafts carry passengers, whom, for the passage of about fifteen hundred miles, they charge the extortionate price of ten pounds a head; but there is no competition, and, therefore, they have it all their own way. The crafts are small, mostly rigged as brigs of about one hundred and twenty-five tons measurement. As in all other settlements on this coast, the rum-sellers drive a thriving trade, although here there are not so many of them, there being but two depots for the sale of spirits in the town. One of them holds forth in a neat brick building, which, they told me, cost two thousand pounds sterling to erect. At home the same description of building would have cost about one hundred pounds, or five hundred dollars. As everybody here drinks, they think it hospitable to greet the stranger with “What will you take?” and consequently our fellows, many of whom never rejected such offers, were alive for fun--and I will guarantee that the denizens of Bunbury will, for many a day, remember the skylarking of the Pacific’s crew. One, after getting pretty well elevated, took our two Portuguese up to the school, and insisted on the preceptor’s entering their names on his list of pupils.