A WOULD-BE ESTATE PROPllIETOB OE THE 
OLDEN TIME. 
middle of the road — rather too soon, for the carriage 
wheel caught on the back of the wheel of the last 
cart. A crack, a crash, and a turn over, and the 
driver, Mr Diddler, and the two Sinhalese were pitched 
into the paddy-field, which was just newly worked 
up and just one mass of mud. The driver, a light 
lad, soon sprang up the bank and looked to his horse 
and carriage, utterly regardless of his fare. The 
Sinhalese were quite at home: a paddy-field was a 
sort of native element to them. They spluttered about, 
looking out for Mr Diddler, in gratitude for the 
nice drive they had received from him. He had been 
thrown into the very worst place, and was spluttering 
about, trying to swim in mud, but could not. They 
seize hold of him, each by a shoulder, and drag him 
out on to the road, just one mass of mud— mud was 
in his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth ; he could not 
speak, and made signs he would not again go into 
that carriage, so, supported by his friends, he walked 
down to the ferry, crossed, and at last safely reached 
the rest house. 
There, at that time, and it may be even now, 
bath-rooms were unknown, so Mr. Diddler got a 
tub of water, had a good wash down, clean clothes, 
a couple of glasses of sherry, and felt himself again. 
He now asked what he could have for dinner, and 
was told the public one had been over for some 
time, but he could order what he liked. Now, he 
was hungry, and liked a great many dishes, but strange 
to say, although he had been told to order what 
he liked, everything he did like and did order met 
with the responses “Not got;” “All done,” until at 
last he very naturally asked what had got, and 
what was not done. And the answer, as a matter 
of .course, was “Beef-steak, curry and rice, cold 
rice pudding.” “That will do,” says he. “Very 
good, look sharp about it. ” But their sharpness 
proved rather slow, for by the time it was served 
the bottle of sherry loomed rather low. At last 
dinner was served. The steak w^as so hard and tough, 
that after the first mouthful he gave it up as being 
incapable of receiving an impression. The rice and 
curry was so hot, as to put him suddenly in mind 
of the prickly mausa, and to feel as if a number of 
the prickles had been taken internally* So he pitched 
into the cold rice pudding, which was very good, 
but hardly a dinner for a hungry man. So he called 
for bread and cheese, and a pint of stout, with which 
he wound up his repast. He then went out into the 
verandah to smoke, where there were a number of 
young men, sitting, talking, and also smoking. He 
