A FAIR DAY’S WORK. 
from ten to twelve shillings each, but they did not 
do half the work of what is done now by those who 
only receive the half of this balance. It was not 
altogether the fault of the coolies : it was in a great 
measure, if not entirely, the fault of the superin- 
tendents, who did not understand the proper method 
and system of working coolies in those times. In 
fact, we were utterly ignorant of what a fair day’s 
work should be. And I do not think, in any occu- 
pation whatever, more money has been uselessly lost, 
and recklessly paid away, than in that of coffee 
cultivation, after it had been originally commenced. 
A fear and undefined dread of an insufficient supply 
of labour has always more or less pervaded the plant- 
ing community. This has always been “ the rock 
aheul” on which the vessel of coffee planting was 
about to be shipwrecked. The tale of immigration 
was stv)pping, or about to cease, ‘‘there would be 
no coolies, or insufficient supplies to pick the crop 
but, unless in some exceptional cases, this chronic 
fear has never been practically realized. On the con- 
trary our general labour supply seems more plentiful 
than ever. 
On large estates, yielding good crops, there will 
always be what is called a push during crop season, 
perhaps two or three, but the loss of crop during 
these pushes is a good deal dependent on the state 
of the weather, more so than on a liberal labour 
supply. But as the weather is never to be trusted, 
the p ' an ter usually prefers to lean on a liberal cooly 
supply if he can get it. It has been often, not only 
remarked but proved, in the current of eveiy-day 
event' in life, that no man knows what he can do 
initil he is pushed to it, and put upon his mettle, 
and this remark is specially true in respect to the 
picking of coffee crops. When one is short-handed 
and liU' a good crop to pick it is wonderful, if pro- 
perly directed, with what spirit the coolies will enter 
upon the work with a proper and liberal incitement 
in the shape of “ready cash.” On the last estate 
which I managed during a heavy crop, the kanganies 
unanimously made a request that I should do away 
with morning muster, on the plea that it was so long 
])efore the people could get to the picking. To hu- 
mour them it was tried for a day or two, and orders 
were given the evening before, where the pickers 
were to commence in line. Before daylight, they were 
all out and wxre distinctly seen in the grey of the 
morning all in line with the empty bags on their 
backs. This was all very well, so long as the task 
of two bushels and a penny for an extra kutti 
