528 
THE  TROPICAL  AGRICULTURIST. 
[Feb.  I,  1897. 
reasonably  conclude,  that  some  Merit  has  been 
discovered  in  the  new  article,  which  M as  aM-anting 
in  the  old. 
A signal  instance  of  unanimity  of  public  juilg- 
nient  is  the  gradual  disappearance  of  the  old  te.as 
of  China,  before  their  young  rivals  from  Ceylon 
and  India.  Inherently  there  is  great  similarity 
in  the  analysis  of  those  teas.  I>ut  the  methods  0/ 
manufacture  make  all  the  difference.  The  old 
teas  of  ancient  nations  are  made  by  hand 
processes  in  the  unclean  hovels  of  Mongolians. 
Mark  the  contrast.  The  modern  teas  of  M’hite 
Capitalists  are  made  by  machinery  in  airy,  clean 
and  MODERN  FACTORIES.  W.  McK. 
♦ 
HARD  LABOUR  IN  THE  TROPICS. 
The  scene  is  a lovely  tropical  Isle,  about  M’hich 
Poets  and  Travellers  have  raved  through  many 
volumes.  The  time  is  early  morn,  when  the 
first  rays  of  the  sun  are  seen  in  the  East,  shoot- 
ing far  up  athwart  the  gray  sky,  heralding 
the  speedy  approach  of  tiie  Cod  of  Day,  Mdiile 
tOM'ards  the  West,  the  stars  are  still  shining. 
For  in  this  latitude,  DaMoi  and  tM’ilight  are 
short — the  change  from  darkness  to  brilliant  sun- 
shine in  the  morning,  and  the  reversal  of  the 
order  in  the  evening,  being  matters  of  only  a 
a feM’  minutes.  These  rapid  changes,  too,  occur 
at  almost  the  same  hours  throughout  the  year, 
say  from  5-45  to  6 a.m  and  again  between  G 
and  6-15  p.m. — the  length  of  tire  day  being 
always  12  hours. 
All  nature  aM’akes  suddenly.  In  the  jungle 
the  birds  are  singings  in  the  marshes  the  toads 
are  croaking.  Round  the  huts  of  the  natives, 
dogs  are  barking  and  roosters  are  eroM’ing. 
The  rat-a-tat,  rat-a-tat  of  a tom-tom  drum 
•is  being  beaten  to  summon  native  M'orkmen  to 
their  muster  ground  and  they  can  be  seen  tighten- 
ing up  the  long  ends  of  their  many  colored 
cotton  garments,  as  they  M’alk  along  by  the 
devious  roads,  M’hich  starting  from  the  lines  or 
villages  where  they  live,  converge  towards  the 
factory.  They  are  of  both  sexes  and  of  all 
ages  from  6 to  60.  In  truth,  I might  say  from 
3 months  to  60  years,  as  many  of  the  mothers 
carry  babies  in  their  arms ; while  beside  fathers 
and  mothers,  trot  several  infants  naked  as  M’hen 
to  earth  they  came. 
Wlien  mustered  and  counted,  they  are  sent  in 
gangs  to  difterent  parts  of  the  plantation.  The 
men,  peiadventure,  go  pruning ; or  armed  with 
croM’bars  and  shovels,  go  clearing  fresh  land, 
cutting  roads  or  digging  holes  lor  plants,  or  a 
new  field  opened,  for  the  further  extension  of 
the  cultivated  area. 
The  women  and  children  are  sent  to  light  work, 
such  as  pulling  Aveeds  or  gathering  crop  from 
one  or  the  other  of  the  many  plants,  cotton,  codec, 
cocoa,  or  tea,  which  grow  luxuriantly  in  these 
happy  Isles.  Headmen  or  overseers  accomi»any 
the  laborers  in  the  proportion  of  about  one  to 
twenty.  Besides  the  cotton  garments  worn  by 
all,  tiiese  petty  chieftains  generally  Mcar  a coat 
of  some  thick  M’oollen  material— often  an  old  one 
of  masters— the  owner  of  the  ])lantation— and 
they  invariably  carry  umbrellas.  If  an  umbrella 
covered  with  a brilliantly  red  cover,  to  obtain 
Mhich  is  the  acme  of  his  ambition,  cannot  be 
lirocnred,  then  the  headman  or  “kangany”  as  he 
calls  himself  must  be  content  M’ith  a black  or 
white  one — but  an  umlnella  there  must  be  ; and 
one  often  meets  several  kanganies  M’alking  Avith 
tU«ir  ulubrellas  open  long  after  the  sun  has  gone 
down,  protecting  their  dusky  countenances  from 
the  light  of  a misty  fickle  moon,  or  an  un- 
lucky star.  Vanity,  as  expressed  in  parti-colored 
sun  shades,  is  not  peculiar  to  Avomeu. 
Arrived  at  the  lield  of  operations,  one  laborer 
is  told  off  to  each  row  of  shrubs  to  i)iune,  pluck  or 
Avhatever  the  Avork  may  be.  Among  them  are  many 
good  singers — as  they  judge  singing.  One  of  such 
is  told  by  the  Cangany  to  “ strike  up.”  Then 
folloAvs  Avhat  Ave  all  liave  heard  in  more  ad- 
vanced gatherings.  He  or  she  pleads  a cough, 
or  inability  to  sing,  or  the  lack  of  any  incidents 
Avorthy  of  song.  For  your  natiA-e,  in  this  ca.se, 
improvises  as  he  goes  along,  and  does  it,  too, 
very  cleverly.  After  the  usual  badinage  he  does 
“ strike  up,”  sometimes  a chant  Avhich  all  knoAv, 
Avith  a chorus,  Avhich  all  join  in  ; sometimes  a 
verse  Avhich  is  responded  to  by  another,  Avhen 
the  song  take  the  shape  of  a duet.  Or  the 
singer  improvises,  and  touches  in  rhythm  of 
measured  length  or  cadence  on  such  events  as 
their  simple  life  supplies — the  goodness  or  other- 
Avise  of  their  curry— flirtations  of  Ramon  Avith 
Letchemie— the  glances  which  Sadion  Avas  seen 
to  throAv  at  Salachy,  during  the  absence  of  the 
latter’s  husband  Coropin — or  the  doings  of  the 
Cangany  or  Master,  for  even  the  follies  of  their 
white  employer  arc  fearlessly  .shot  at  by  these 
fun  loving  rogues- 
A wise  employer  ahv.ays  encourages  this  sing- 
ing, as  Avhile  it  goes  on,  aU  the  laborers,  even 
Avhen  joining  in  a chorus  diligently  attend  to 
their  Avork.  On  the  other  hand,  when  no  one 
sings,  chattering,  dialling,  arguing  and  laughing 
are  incessant,  and  work  is  less  carefully  done. 
About  mid-day,  there  is  a halt,  and  the  crop 
gathered  by  each  laborer  is  Aveighed,  counted  or 
measured.  In  the  illustration  photo  you  sent 
me.  Master  has  come,  and  is  aAvaiting  the  • 
arrival  of  carts  M’hich  are  to  carry  the  produce 
from  the  basket  to  the  factory.  The  pluckors 
have  gathered  around  him,  and  are  sitting 
examining  their  baskets  lest  any  foreign  sub- 
stance, or  portion  of  branch,  or  even  loo  coarse 
a leaf,  may  have  found  its  Avay  into  them. 
Even  these  children  of  the  sun  feel  the  heat 
at  noon  on  a sultry  day,  and  are  grateful  for 
the  rest  this  halt  gives  them.  At  this  hour,  too, 
many  of  them  take  “ a snack” — the  simple  lunch 
they  affect  being  brought  to  them  by  children 
or  friends  from  the  villages,  or,  as  is  often  the 
case,  having  been  brought  out  by  themselves  in 
the  morning,  carefully  rolled  up  in  a banana  leaf 
or  a handkerchief. 
Then  to  Avork  again  till  4 p.m.  Avhen  a horn 
is  bloAvn  Avith  a note  as  lugubrious  as  that  of 
an  Atlantic  steamer  during  a fog,  as  a signal 
that  Avork  is  over  for  the  day.  The  gangs  are 
again  mustered  and  counted,  and  the  day’s  AVork 
checked.  As  soon  as  dismissed,  aAvay  they  all 
rush  singing  and  shouting,  chaffing  and  chasing 
each  other.  Old  and  young,  they  are  all  as 
happy,  because  as  thouyhHess  and  iinpi'ovident, 
as  kittens  or  puppies  at  I'lay. 
Bless  them  1 they  care  nothing  for  politics  or 
stocks;  Avinter  and  Avant  are  unknoAvn  to  them, 
they  have  free  houses,  fuel  costs  them  nothing, 
and  tAvo  cents  Avorth  of  oil  gives  them  all  the 
light  they  Avant  for  a month.  They  can  dress 
extravagantly  on  tAvo  dollars  a year,  the  tax 
collector  ncAer  visits  them,  Tammany  ncA’er 
scpieezes  them,  and  Avhen  ill,  doctors,  medicine 
and  food  are  supplied  gratis. 
These  labourers  are  absolutely  free,  and  can 
leaA'c  their  employer  Avithout  notice,  if  theU’ 
ivages  are  24  hours  overdue. 
