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things, so they give them the go by. That's how they manage it. Put I' show all these writer chaps up, some of these odd days. You cockneys may think what you like about roughing it, and I know that I used to fancy I went through great hardships when I happened to be caught in a shower of rain in Epping Forest and had to stay all night in the nearest public-house with nothing but cold meat and country beer, But a shower of rain in Epping Forest is not to be mentioned after the monsoon in the Backwoods of Ceylon. Authors are clever chaps at description, but, believe me, roughing it in a book is one thing and rouhing it in reality is another.

I have heard of a writer who used to travel and give an account of his voyaging without ever stirring from his house. He would go regularly round bis study and give a chapter on every article he came to. Now why shouldn't I do the same, as I've not been further than the kitchen and the lines, and give an account of my discoveries ?

As I told you before, our house is made of branches of trees twisted together. At first the leaves filled up the spaces between the sticks and kept out the wind and rain, but now that they are all dead and fallen off, there is some very extensive openwork about the walls, not a little enlarged by our confounded monkey who prefers going out by any way but the door. I have found it necessary to hang up all our dresses, my wife's sarsnets and my giunea ducks included, along the zides of our bungalow to keep out a little of the wet and cold, and I assure you they give it the appearance of the inside of a royal Persian Tent, although Mrs. Brown, who always will destroy my poetical and historical associations, declares it bears more resemblance to a clothier's shop in Houndsditch. One corner of about four square feet is parted off by boxes and portmantles for the children's nursery and my wife's dressing-room, which is really necessary, for Mr. Trunk and the coolies walk slap into our place whenever they choose, without so much as knocking at the door.

It has been dreadful work getting the children's clothes dried these rains, and as yet we've no one to do our washing: twice a week there's a terrible assemblage of small articles of dress of various shapes, strung up along the room, like reams of paper in a printer's office, and really it requires all my presence of mind to dodge between them without getting a wel face. The things would never dry were fit not for the help of sundry bottles of hot water and my sleeping on them at night, whicb latter has given me a few twitches of rheumatism. But my wife's everlasting monkey causes me more trouble than everything else put together. I'm obliged to tie bim up in a bag on washing days, or he'd play Thomas with the clothes, and then out of spite he amuses us all day with a quiet, subdued yell. It was but the other day he scoured off with one of my open razors in his paws, but he was punished for his pains, for as he was flourishing it about on the roof

It took off the tip of one of his ears. The rascal has been quieter since, and scampers off whenever he sees me going to shave.

My desk is in a corner near the door, where I transact all my estate bu siness and give a daily audience to Mr. Trunk, who details to me the transactions of the past day, the state of the coolies, ditto of weather and the operations that should be pursued. On my first interview of this kind he detailed at full length the necessaries of a good estate, amongst them he said a good nursery was the most important and should be begun immediately. Think. ing that he was alluding to some building for my children I thanked him for considering their comfort, but said I meant to make shift with a corner of my bungalow. Ten and ink could not describe anything like Trunk's look on hearing this; I found out after beating about a little, that he alluded to a nursery of Coffee plants. His talking about the lines for coolies also bothered me a bit at first, for I could not imagine that lines was the name of their dwellings, and only thought of lines to dry their clothes on. However, I expect I am now pretty well up to all these things, and am likely to turn out a first rate planier, at least so says Mr. Trunk, and he must know a good planter from a bad one.

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By great perseverance I have succeeded in getting in, with a gang of 60 coolies, about fifteen thousand seedlings. Ouly fancy, cousin, fifteen thousand! Why, if they was grown big, and all in a row they'd go right from Crutched Friars to the London Docks. I've been calculating how much Coffee they'll give me at three pounds a tree and I find its a good lot. Twice have I been out in the pouring rain to see my young plants aud they certainly do grow a bit. I had a chair tied upon poles and was carried by six men, with another to hold a talipot leaf over my head, for I dont care a dump how I expose myself, if it's only for example's sake. My telescope was slung by my side, and in my pocket along with memorandum book, knife, string and compass, was a flat green bottle well corked and certainly as well filled. I fancy there are very few Planters who would have sallied forth in that way, and in that weather, but as I said I do not mind difficulties. In a few hours I did about a couple of days work. I first measured the prin cipal plants and noted down their height with the day of the month, for these are things that demand precision: I then counted the whole of them to see if any had been stolen, knowing what shocking thieves the natives are, but found them all right. After this I made a general inspection of my coolies and their tools, under cover, and then trying to catch a glimpse of the distant mountains through the mizzling rain, I proceeded to the "Lines" and had a regular survey of them.

I don't think I can give you a better idea of Malabar lines than likening them to the roof of a long English barn taken off and placed on the ground.

Deuce a bit of wall is there to them, and as for doors, windows and chimblies, they wouldn't have them if it was to save their lives. They get in and out at the ends, and the smoke oozes out wherever the snakes and the rats make holes for it in the roof. When I first saw my lines I thought to be surs they were built under ground and that only a part of the roof was visible above the earth. I managed to scramble in on my hands and knees and when inside, Oh! what a hogo assailed my nose. A dozen tanners, glue. makers and soap-boilers would have been perfumers' shops in comparison. [ must confess I was shocked at the idea of human beings herding together in such a state of filth and discomfort, aud immediately determined to build large and commodious houses for them as soon as the rains were gone. The floor was of mud of course, and the only visible contents of the little cells were a roll of matting in one corner for a bed, three stones for a fireplace, basket hanging from the roof with a few fruits and vegetables in it, upon which lay a child fast asleep, some earthen vessels for cooking and driuking, and a flat and a round stone for grinding up their curry stuffs. Two or three naked children round the fire in addition to the one in the basket, the wife stirring the curry pot with her fingers, and a little tiny fox nosed, wire tailed, snarling cur at the entrance completed the Tout Assembly, and a precious dirty, romantic, stinking, indian assembly it was, too. Glad enough was I to creep out of these wretched abodes, jump into my chair and turn homeward, The visit, however, did me some good, for it made me feel quite in elysium in my own comfortable hut. How little do we know, cousin, when we complain of our own discomforts and annoyances, of what thousands of our fellow. creatures are undergoing of. I would advise all grumbling and discontented persons to take a stroll through the world and just compare their own lot with that of many of their brother pilgrims of life, and depend upon it they'll go home again with quite a new rig-out of feelings. I know when I returned home after my visit to the lines, and found myself inside of Epping Bungalow I made sure I had got into Buckingham Palace by mistake.

By the next morning I had a plan for a new and improved set of build. ings for my laborers, laid out on a large sheet of cartridge paper, and a very pretty place it seemed to be, although my wife did say that it looked like the inside of a work-box. There was to be no stint of room: every man was to have a sitting and sleeping room to himself, and there was one general kitchen to the whole lot. The rooms were to be floored, with good stout walls, lofty, and strongly roofed in short I meant them to be nice little bits of places something like the fishmongers alms-houses in Shoreditch. But when I came to show the thing to my man Friday he actually laughed at me and declared that if I built such a place I should not get a single cooly to sleep in it. I could scarcely credit this, but he assured me it was a fact. Why, said be, if they

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don't sleep close to where they cook, they'd perish with cold, and what Malabar do you think would ever live in a room that he could stand upright in. Then again you've made all the rooms ten feet square. Now our Malabars Average five feet ten inches and if their places exceed six feet in length they would not stay in them. It would be no use giving them twenty dollars a month, if when they lie down they cannot touch one wall with their feet and another with their head. Your rooms, too, are boarded and how could they throw all their slops and messes on the floor? No, no, continued Trunk, that plan will never do. If you build such a place as that, your coolies would not stay a month with you. I was obliged to give up my liberal

scheme, and have since seen enough to convince me that he was right in his advice. What a precious set of black mortals they are to be sure!

I forgot to tell you that we are without servants. My Appo came to me a few days ago with a face as long as from here to the Lines, and begged to be allowed holiday to go and see his mother, for that she was plenty sick" and he was her only son. The request seemed moderate enough and I gave him permission for a week, together with his month's pay and a little more in advance. A day or two afterwards master cookey wanted to go to some outlandish place or other, to see his sister married: but that would not do at all and I had to decline compliance. He wheedled me out of his month's pay however, which he said he wanted to send as a present to his sister, and Mrs. Brown added something out of her own pocket, besides a little finery for the girl to wear. The next morning, breakfast did not make it's appearance at the usual time, and I sang out for cookey, but no cookey replied; I called to Mr. Trunk, he was out in the "nursery" with all the corlies. There was nothing left for me but to walk over to our kitchen, which I found as desolate and deserted as Robinson Crusoe's island. No cook, no fire, no nothing. All gone but the pots, and they were so black I couldn't see them. Here was a dreadful state of things! All of us ready for break. fast, and the children in particular. I broke the news to Mrs. B. as gently as I could, and we agreed that there was no help for it, but to light a fire, and do something for ourselves. But when it came to the do I found I could no more get a light than I could borrow one from the man in the moon. With a box of good Lucifers the thing's simple enough: its just a rub and a phiz and the fire's alight, but when your matches are all wet with rain, when flint and steel are unknown, and there's not a bit to use a burning glass by, its another pair of shoes. At last I thought of my gun and in a minute I had a light, but the fire was a deuce of a The rascally cook had left all his fire-wood outside, and it had been raining a series of rivers all night long. There was no alternative but breaking up a deal clothes box and some of the walking-sticks with which at the end of an hour I made about a pint of water luke warm! It was

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wretched time, what with burning my fingers, spilling the victuals, cracking the earthen pots, and dirtying a pair of my whitest ducks! How I anathemized the cook I leave you to guess: I can only say that if a tenth part of my wishes respecting the prosperity of him and his family had been fulfiled not one of the tribe should ever have cooked again in this world, but have tasted a curry hotter than capsicum or chillie could make it.

We have since had our meals cooked by two of our Malabars wives but not liking our food smoked daily I am writing to my friend in Colombo to send up a cook and boy without delay. See if they humbug us! not if they each have a dozen mothers on the point of death, and twenty sisters alout to marry.

The messenger is waiting for this so I will conclude by assuring you of our well-doing in the words of Mrs. Squeers.-"The Pigs is well, and the Boys is bobbish."

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When Meara and Sullivan had separated, the latter returned slowly in the direction of his uncle's house, revolving in his mind the prudence of acquainting him at once with what he had seen. On arriving at the house however, he found all dark outside, and apprehensive that an untimely visit might prove more prejudicial than advantageous to his intentions he deferred his interview until the following day. In the meantime Meara had reached his dwelling full of plans to avert the storm which he clearly discerned in the manner and conduct of Shane Buie. Late as it was he went in search of a poor idiot boy called poor Jem-residing in Glynn, who possessed a sufficient degree of sense to enable him to profit by the very impression which his folly made upon others. He was what is called in Ireland a Half Natural, and having been, as is usually the case among the poor, left by his family to follow the bent of his own inclinations, be had often attended the marauders during the preceding winter, and received from Edmund Meara many little kindnesses at different times. To this boy Meara went, and having directed him to call on him early on the following morning he returned home. When the boy arrived at

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