A FISCAL’S SALE. 
as he had no coolies, money, or rice, of course he 
oould do nothing. So he lived in the bungalow, as 
the man in possession. Rather dull work, but he was 
an industrious fellow, and set to work on all the waste 
pieces [of ground, with pickaxe and spade, clearing 
and trenching for vegetables. He grew capital cab- 
bages, carrots, turnips, and what not; and, more than 
that, lived on them, and when he wanted some cash, 
he filled a gunny-bag -with this garden produce, went 
round the neighbouring estates, and returned lighter 
in load, but heavier in pocket. This sort of thing 
went on for months, until the whole estate lapsed 
into a wilderness of weeds and jungle. Our resident 
superintendent, finding all his demands for cash, even 
for his own pay, quite useless, goes into Kandy, and 
procures a fiscal’s warrant for the sale of the property, 
to cover his own claim, in the shape of arrears of pay 
due. This was placarded on the door of the bungalow, 
and advertised in the local papers, as the columns of 
the Observer of that date, if still extant, can testify. 
The day of sale duly arrived ; and when the fiscal 
or bis deputy made his appearance, there was only 
one planter present, his assistant. The claim of the 
plaintiff amounted to about £40 : at this sum the estate 
was put up, and for this sum it was knocked down. 
150 acres cleared and planted, 100 acres felled, and it 
would be hard to say how many more hundreds of 
acres in forest. Of course there were no title-deeds ; 
but the fiscal declared that his receipt for the money 
was the very best title that could be given, and so 
all matters appeared satisfactorily concluded. Mr. 
Green was installed as resident superintendent, two 
hundred coolies were at once put on to put the 23lace 
in Older, and all was bustle and activity, where silence 
and solitude had so long reigned. Two hundred coolies 
soon made a hole in the weeds, and gradually the 
place began to look once more like a coffee estate. 
Mr. Green had finished breakfast and was sitting in 
his verandah smoking his pipe, when the unusual 
sight presented itself of a stout gentleman rounding 
the corner towards the bungalow^ riding on a very 
small pony, but his astonishment was unbounded at 
what followed the gentleman — a regiment of coolies, 
marching in military fashion, two deep, only instead 
of muskets they shouldered stout long poles ! They 
marched well, kept step, and so they drew up in the 
open space in front of the bungalow, wheeled round, 
surrounded the whole house and grounded their long 
poles, so that Mr. Green found himself in a stato 
of blockade or siege. The gentleman then dismounted 
from his pony, enered the bungalow, and addressed Mr. 
