I am placed in a very awkward predicament, as my stay in that country depends wholly upon contingencies.

Should a brigadier arrive I am to be stationary, but otherwise return to Quebec.

Nothing could be more provoking and inconvenient than this arrangement.

Unless I take up every thing with me, I shall be miserably off, for nothing beyond eatables is to be had there; and in case I provide the requisites to make my abode in the winter in any way comfortable, and then be ordered back, the expense will be ruinous.

But I must submit to all this without repining, and since I cannot get to Europe, I care little where I am placed.
I have the most delightful garden imaginable, with abundance of melons and other good things, all which I must now desert.
What am I to tell you from this out-of-the-way place.