THE DINNEK-HOUE. 
of the planter are different from those in general 
nse at home, for the bulk of his work, sometimes 
the half of it, and the best half too, is done before 
breakfast, we may almost say his morning coffee and 
toast is his breakfast, and his nominal breakfast at 
10 or 11 o’clock his dinner; for noon, with ail work- 
men, in all countries, is the natural and usual time 
to dine, call it by any name you like. If this view 
be carried out, the planter’s dinner at seven just 
corresponds with- the old-fashioned supper of the old 
country, which is now giving place to the meal called 
a real Scotch tea which will make the mouths 
of some of our old friends water : tea, oatmeal cakes 
and bannocks, and fresh or salt butter, as you will, 
flour scones, white as snow, with a patch of brown 
over the surface here and there just sufficient to show 
they are properly fired, side dishes of marmalade, jams, 
jellies, take your choice, or pitch into the whole lot, 
which is better, down with one, another come on, 
and as if this was not enough there stand fine thick 
cakes of shortbread, all stuck over with “sweeties.” 
Have you forgotten what sweeties are ? Think a 
little, and try and remember, when you were a boy, 
what was contained in that small parcel, wrapped up 
in red paper, which, when your old uncle or aunt 
came to visit “Pa and Ma,” they slipped into your 
hand, trembling with delight, No, you have not for- 
gotten the “poke of sweeties.” 
But, call it by any name you will, dinner or sup- 
per, as a rule after this meal (unless in crop time) 
the planter’s day’s work is done, and he is not long 
of going to bed. We always personally dined at seven, 
that was the dinner hour, and generally in bed and 
asleep at or before nine o’clock ; it was not a very 
good system, but nothing else could be done ; others 
have tried an earlier dinner hour, but there were 
constant interruptions, as long as it was light. Coolies, 
kanganies, cartmen, and every sort of pest, would hang 
about the verandah with some complaint to make, 
some great grievance requiring immediate redi‘ess or 
adjustment, so great, that you would frequently have 
to get up and adjust it, but what you thought could 
easily be settled in a couple of seconds was found alto- 
.gether a mistake. When you commence to talk to a 
black man — especially if he happens to be a Malabar 
cooly, or a Sinhalese cartman — it is like the letting but 
of water, you don’t know where, or how, or when, it will 
end; seconds lapse into minutes, and an hour is composed 
of minutes, and probably, after^half an hour’s talking, you 
would get out of some difficulty by tellings your un- 
timely visitor you must resume your dinner, ahd come 
