AN OLD PUL PER. 
tures of habit, take care you don’t get into a mere 
methodical working machine ! That is as much to be 
deprecated as the other way. The machine will 
make money, and will never use it. He will be 
like a well-set pulper, take in steadily any amount 
of palam, throw out behind all the refuse and skin, 
deposit all the good coffee in the receiving cistern, 
and when the season’s work is done, if with him it 
ever is done, what the better is he of it at all? 
None: but on the contrary the worse; he is all 
'Covered with pulp and slime, teeth of the cylinder 
all blunt, possibly a good many wires out of the 
sieve. And others, strangers unknown, are making 
.fine profits out of his grinding, creaking, rattling 
labours and evolutions. It is just thus .with the 
animated working machine. Every year, he must 
have some repairs, until at last he becomes worn 
out, leaving others to spend, or most probably 
squander, the fruits of all his hard-earned labours. 
The old-fashioned planter of the days gone by, is 
now extinct, or, if not, is rarely to be met with, 
and more rarely noticed ; but do not cast out utterly 
the old planter and old pulper, both haA^e done good 
services in their day, and may be called upon to 
do so again. The writer once had an old raltle-trap 
pulper; it used to grind away, night and day, slow 
and sure, at the rate of twenty bushels an hour. 
Times changed; it was stowed away in a dark corner 
©f the store, a water-wheel and crusher took its 
place, pulping sixty to eighty bushels with ease. 
Some neighbours wanted to buy the old pulper. I 
always said ‘‘No,” for which no definite reason could 
be given. It was probably looked upon with a feel- 
ing of respect, or with some foreboding that an old 
'friend might again prove a friend during a heavy 
push of crop. So it proved; some trifle went wrong 
with the new machinery. This sort of thing just 
requires a beginning, and, do what we could, as 
fast as one delect was put right, another would take 
place, more serious than the previous one. The new 
machinery would not work. Picking could not be 
stopped, the coffee was rotten ripe, the cherry coffee 
rotting, steaming, and mouldy. What was to be done ? 
It suddenly flashed through my mind, “Where is 
the old pulper ! ” It was discovered in a dark corner 
of the store, and speedily brought out, set in posi- 
tion on the pulping platform, with temporary spouting- 
attached ; no regard was paid to its rusty, dusty, 
dirty appearance, a little oil was applied to the 8<:rews 
and bolts, handles fixed, and four coolies put on to 
drive. It creaked, groaned, and shook, as if it 
