CEYLON COCOA ESTATE 191 



the hills are clothed with belts of jungle, and 

 the lower slopes are a mass of tea. The southern 

 end of the semicircle reminds one of the grassy 

 hill-sides of Dumfriesshire, covered as they are 

 with close green turf, but I was told that in the 

 good old days when King Coffee reigned, these 

 slopes were covered with the all pervading 

 crop of the island. Rocky mountain streams 

 run down the hill-side in all directions. In the 

 midst of all this natural beauty, on a slightly 

 projecting knoll, stands the bungalow with trim 

 kept lawns, a tennis court, roses everywhere, 

 even to hedges of crimson roses. Within is 

 everything that cultured denizens could wish, 

 piano, violin, paintings, and best of all an 

 excellent collection of books. I mention all this 

 to give some idea of the pleasant cultivated life 

 that can be led by Ceylon planters, even though 

 they may be, as in this case, fourteen miles from 

 a railway and (thirty-five) from anything we in 

 Europe would consider deserving the name of 

 town. This is rather an exceptionally favoured 

 spot, for within a mile of it may be found a 

 small church where occasional services are held, 

 a doctor, and dispensary, as well as a post 

 office. 



I had the privilege of witnessing a magnificent 

 thunderstorm. It was grand to see the vivid 

 tropical lightning in zig-zags, in chains, in flashes 

 sometimes blue, and at others rose coloured, or 



