162 The Hunting Grounds 



to enjoy the fresh air, which was mild and cool, as on 

 a May-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, passion- 

 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, cauli- 

 flowers, 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 coffee- 

 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 to be found 

 among the British residents in India. A stranger 



