452 



THE TROPICAL AGRICULTURIST. [January i, 1886. 



cross between succiriihra and uffidnnlis, and its 

 seems likely to answer better tlian any imported 

 kind, as it possesses great hardihood, as well as a 

 high percentage of (luinine in its bark. 



With the failure of cinchona came hard times 

 for us, as well as our neighbours. Ilcductions in 

 expenditure were made on all sides. No more 

 substantial stone sheds were built, or expensive 

 machinery imported, and many of tlie assistant 

 managers were paid off and dismisised. A great 

 many deserving young men were throAvn out of 

 employment, and, worse still, they had no means 

 of conveying themselves out of the sinking .ships. 

 My heart has ached for the poor fellows. Many 

 of them were ideasant, well-educated, well-bred 

 youug men, the sons of gentlemen, and they really 

 did not know which way to look to procure them- 

 selves the barest necessities of life. Some of them 

 were helped by kind and compassionate friends and 

 sent home. Some managed to raise money from 

 relations. A few found their way over to India 

 and got into the Salt and Police De))artment3 ; 

 and a few went to the coffee and tea districts of 

 India ; but many of lliem succumbed to fever. 

 The climate of the Indian tea and coJfee districts 

 is not to be compared willi our Ceylon climate 

 in point of health. Those were Ceylon's darkest 

 days for the present generation, and, in my next 

 paper, I shall liave to tell how we weathered the 

 storm, and to what straits wo were put in so do- 

 ing- 



III. 



With reductions taking place on all the estates 

 around us, it was not likely we should escape. 

 My husband suffered with the rest. First, he lost 

 his assistant, and thus had all the work thrown on 

 his own shoulders. Then came a more serious 

 matter. Our salary was reduced, and certain 

 allowances cut down, which curtailed our comfort 

 as well as our purse. The reduction in our in- 

 come was a very serious thing for us, although, 

 looking at it in the disastrous light of those 

 days, we might consider ourselves lucky in hav- 

 ing kept our berth at all, for many estates, at 

 that time, were actually abandoned, and allowed 

 to revert to jungle. The lantana has since 

 taken possession of tliera with a firm grijj, 

 and nearly effaced the once well-kept trim path. 

 I should not have minded the reduction of 

 salary so much if it had not l)een lor that 

 wretched debt, for which we had made ourselves 

 liable. It had to be paid in English money too, and 

 we felt the fluctuations of exchange severely. Anotlier 

 thing began to trouble us, and this was the ir- 

 regularity witli which we reccivoil our salary. Some 

 times the estate was in arrears for want of ready 

 money, and we suffered with other creditors— the 

 chetties, and the coolies. No irregularity, however, 

 was allowed in the payment of the interest. The 

 money had to be ready to the day, and each 

 time as the date for payment drew near; I was tor- 

 mented with anxiety lest the money should not 

 be forthcoming. 



As the lirst signs of hard times I reduced my 

 establishment, and cut down all unnecessary ex- 

 penses. I sent away two ayahs; who were receiv- 

 ing, according to Ceylon custom, li'i.") and R20 a 

 nronth respectively, and took a good Englisli nurse 

 on K30 a month. She not only saved me in the matter 

 of ayahs, but she also he Ipcd me to do without a 

 tailor. In a climate like ours she could stir 

 about, aud do as active a day's work as she could in 

 England. I sent away my experienced cook, 

 and took a raw hand, at a fourth of the cook's 

 wages, and taught him to cook. My husband sold 



his remaining pony, and learnt to walk his twenty 

 miles a day, when necessary, with the gi-eatest 

 ease. I liad always kept cows and been fond of 

 my dairy, but, hitherto, I had used the cream, 

 the butter and milk in the house. Now, I de- 

 termined on turning my dairy pro luce in;o money. 

 I knew I should lind a ready market for my 

 butter in Kandy or Colombo, as home-made butter 

 was a scarce commodity. It might be thought 

 that in such a green Country as Ceylon, where 

 every square inch of soil is covered with veget- 

 ation, cattle would flourish on the grassland, and 

 that good milk and butter would be plentiful. But 

 it is not so. There is a certain supply of milk, 

 but it is from native cows, and the butter is no 

 better than ordinary country butter in India. 

 The cattle are small, and yield poorly, the grass- 

 land in the valleys is so infested with leeches, 

 that it is almost useless as pasture for cither 

 sheep or cows. The leeches enter their nostrils, so 

 that they are tormented into a restlessness which 

 keeps them thin and unnourishcd. The patanas are 

 also undrained, and a cow will sometimes lose 

 its lite through getting bogged ; and they all 

 suffer from the damp. I had always kept line 

 Mysore cows, which now stood me in good stead. 

 I had a small piece of upland grass on the sunny 

 side of one of our upper hill slopes, where it was too 

 dry for the ubiquitous leech, and here my cows 

 were herded during the day. At night they stood 

 in the spacious cattle-shed once full of line o.-^en, 

 but bare and empty now, in these poverty-stricken 

 days. I was obliged to supervise everything per- 

 sonally, as I had rascally herdsmen to deal with. I 

 saw the cows milked, and led, and I saw niy butter 

 made, packed off for sale. I still had plenty of 

 milk for the children, although it was no longer 

 new. In our cool climate it was perfectly sweet 

 after it was skimmed, and it made excellent pud- 

 dings, and bread-and-milk breakfasts and suppers 

 for my hungry little brood. I sacrificed my flower 

 beds, and turned three (piarlers of my garden into 

 vegetables, which also found their way to Kandy 

 and Colombo. And we gave up whiskey and beer: 

 This was a great saving ; not because we were great 

 drinkers, but because our friends who came in 

 frequently had to be entertained, aud our bill for 

 liquor was sometimes alarmingly heavy. Whilst the 

 whiskey was in the house I could not help offering 

 it, but when it was not there, I could honestly say 

 I had none to give. I was very sorry to have to 

 pursue this course, but it was absolutely necessary 

 if we wished to keep our heads above water. My 

 husband was quite ready to become an unpledged 

 tee-tolnliet till better times c.xme, but he often 

 found it very hard not to be able to offer a drink to 

 thirsty friend who had called in on his way by. 



So, by hook or by crook, we managed to tide 

 over stormy times, wlien we had to see people, as 

 good as ourselves — perhaps better— irrevocably 

 wrecked. Sometimes I used to wish that our estate 

 would serve us as others were being served, and 

 put us through the Bankruptcy Court. We seemed 

 to be only throwing good money after bad : and 

 screwing and pinching ourselves to feed a horse- 

 leech's daughter, which ever cried "give! give!" 

 It we had invested our £2,000 legacy in some safe 

 security at tlie outset we might have been in re- 

 ceipt of £100 a year from it ; and not only that, 

 but we should not have been burdened with a del)t. 

 We were virtually [laying fl20 in hard cash per 

 annum for the luxury of having received a legacy 

 of £2,000. We pulled through some very severe 

 years, thanks to good healtli, youthful hope, 

 and luck. Our luck consisted in not being 

 sent adrift. Most fortuntitcly for us, the owner 



