OF THE OLD WORLD, 155 



I rose quite a new man the next morning, and 



finding B still asleep, strolled out into the 



garden to enjoy the fresh air, which was mild and 

 cool, as on a ]\Iay-day in England. 



The cottage we occupied is built on a little hill 

 or knoll, and surrounded by beautifully kept coffee- 

 plantations. The sides and roof were literally 

 covered with odoriferous creepers, among which I 

 noticed the woodbine, honeysuckle, jessamine, pas- 

 sion-flower, and a tall climbing fuchsia with very 

 large scarlet bloom. Flowers which I never saw in 

 the low country appeared to grow indigenous. I 

 noticed the primroses, violets, and crocus in the 

 parterres round the house, besides lilies, roses, and 

 geraniums, of all kinds and colours. The kitchen- 

 garden was full of European vegetables, and the 

 cabbages, cauliflowers, turnips, carrots, lettuces, 

 peas, artichokes, radishes, and mustard and cress 

 forcibly recalled to mind my boyhood's home in Old 

 England, 



B joined me in the garden, and we were 



engaged in gathering the materials for a salad for 

 breakfast (which in India is considered a great 

 luxury) when we heard the clattering of horses' 

 hoofs on the road, and almost immediately two 



coflee-planters, D and B , rode up to the 



cottage-door, and introduced themselves. 



In no part of the world, and I have travelled 

 over a good deal of it, have I met with that free 

 courtesy and affable urbanity which is invariably 



