STORIES ABOUT « COFFEE.” 
care and don’t speak about your coffee, so much the 
better. If any of your planting fellows find you out 
and commence in the usual way, just tell them — 
one word for them, and two for yourself — to shut 
up and not mention the subject. After ten days, or 
a fortnight, you will return better than if you had 
been travelling a month in the coffee districts and 
had long disputes every evening upon the comparative 
merits of different systems of w'eeding, pruning, manur- 
ing. For there can be no doubt the great drawback 
upon the planter’s holiday is, his difficulty in getting 
rid altogether of the subject of coffee, because what 
more natural than that he should go and visit his 
friends, these friends, as a rule, being planteis also 
resident on some estate ? Thus he can’t get away from 
coffee, he must hear all about it, and see it too. In 
fact we question very much, go where the planter 
will, if he can ever utterly for the time being quite 
ignore, his calling. For casual acquaintances will say 
“Here is a planter, he must know all about coffee.” 
Visitors at Nuwara Eliya, from Colombo, will^tackl 
him about blossoms, crops, estimates, coolies, and 
what not, go where the planter will, he will be assailed 
by every one, or some, for some information or talk, 
on the all important subject. Even in the old country, 
one is not free from it : “A coffee planter, ” ‘ ‘ Immensely 
rich you know,” “All planters are,” “ Tell us all about 
coffee.” The planter is very happy, quite polite, and 
goes on giving some of the required information, when 
he is suddenly told to shut up and tell no stories.* 
“What, coffee beans growing inside a red pulp, and that 
Ijulp growing in clusters on a tree ! How we all know 
very well it is a bean, and every one knows beans 
are sown annually, and, after yielding their crops, the 
stalks are" just pulled up and thrown away. Now tell 
us truly, how often do you sow your beans ? Once or 
twice a year ? And do you give the coolies say scythes 
or sickles to cut the crops ?” Our loquacious and intelli- 
gent friend without pausing for a reply rattles on. 
“ What sort of threshing machines and beans have you 
got? And what do you do with the coffee bean straw?” 
We can’t, stand this any longer and assure her that 
there is no such a thing as coffee straw, and that we 
are not joking. What has been said is a fact. “Well, 
well,” was (he reply, “how very wonderful. But who 
vrould have thought it?” and she looks doubtfully and 
suspiciously, upon which we cannot contain a smile, 
The smile awokes all the former suspicions. “Oh, oh! 
you thought I believed you. Beans — whoever heard 
of beans growing on trees. Not such a fool as you think.’" 
And thus it is the difficulty the planter finds, go. 
