the nuts are either sold for making curries,
in which they form a prominent feature, or
they are kept for drying ready for the oil-
mill.

Having learned this much, I strolled
through the neat small field, and along a patch
of guinea-grass, to see what was going on in
that direction. The neat-looking building
adjoining was the superintendent's bungalow;
and the long sheds and open spaces in their
front and rear were for drying the nuts, into
what is termed copperah, in which state they
are ground up for pressure. It was a busy
scene, indeed, and the operations require
constant vigilance on the part of the manager:
yet all the work is carried on in the rudest
way, and with the most simple implements.
Half-a-dozen stout lads were seated, cross-
legged, on the ground, each with a heap of
nuts by his side. The rapidity with which they
seized these, and with one sharp blow of a
heavy knife, split them precisely in half, and
flung them away into other heaps, was
remarkable. It seemed to be done with scarcely
an effort; yet on handling the broken nut, one
cannot help being struck with its thickness
and strength. Smaller boys were busily
employed in removing these heaps of split fruit
to the large open spaces; where others,
assisted by a few women, were occupied in
placing them in rows close together with the
open part upwards, so that the kernels may
be fully exposed to the direct rays of the sun.
In this way they remain for two days, when
the fruit, partly dried, shrinks from the shell,
and is removed. Two more days' exposure to
the sun in fine weather will generally complete
the drying process. The kernels are then called
copperah, and are brittle and unctuous in the
hand.

To convert this material into oil, the
natives employ a very primitive mill, worked
by bullocks, and called a checkoo; this process
is very slow, and the oil never clean.
Europeans have, however, obviated these
objections, and manufacture the cocoa-nut oil by
means of granite crushers and hydraulic
presses, worked by steam-power. This is
only done in Colombo, to which place, of
course, the copperah has to be conveyed. The
refuse of the oil-presses—the dry cake or
poonac—is very useful as food for cattle and
poultry, and not less so as a manure for the
palm-trees, when moistened, and applied in a
partially decomposed state.

Not a particle of this valuable tree is lost.
The fresh juice of the blossom which is broken
off to allow it to flow freely, is termed, as we
have said, toddy; and is drunk, when quite
new, as a cool and pleasantly refreshing beverage;
when fermented, it is distilled, and
yields the less harmless liquor known as
arrack.

All these operations are not carried on with
ease and regularity. The Cingalese are an
idle race; like many better men, their chief
pleasure is to perform as little work as
possible. This necessitates a never-ending round
of inspection by the European manager;
who, mounted on a small pony, paper
umbrella in hand, visits every corner of the
property at least once in the day, often
twice. Neither is it unusual for him to make
"a round" during the night. On the whole,
therefore, he enjoys no sinecure.

The manufacture of arrack is entirely in the
hands of the natives, who employ stills of the
rudest construction; the permission to retail
arrack and toddy is annually farmed out by
the Ceylon Government; the renters are
natives, who frequently pay as much as sixty
thousand pounds annually for the monopoly;
about one-eighth part of the entire revenue
of the island.

If we consider the very light and poor
nature of the soil in which cocoa-nut
cultivation is carried on, it cannot but be matter
for wonder that those trees attain so large a
size, and yield such bulky and continuous
crops during so many years. Not
unfrequently they reach a height of sixty feet, and
yield fully fifty nuts each tree per annum,
gathered in alternate months, and continue in
bearing for seventy, and sometimes for ninety
years. A calculation, based on these data,
shows that one acre of yellow sandy soil will
produce, without the aid of manure, a weight
of fourteen and a quarter tons in green fruit,
and seven tons of leaves annually. To yield
this once or twice may not seem deserving of
much wonder; but that this production
should continue for half a century, without
any renovation of soil, and only accidental
supplies of manure, cannot but be considered
a remarkable instance of the unaided fertilising
powers of nature.

THE SMITHFIELD BULL TO HIS
COUSIN OF NINEVEH

COUSIN, the distance of the seas
Destroys no good beast's sympathies;
And whether you be there, or here,
Or on your travels, ancient seer,
Thy veins of royal blood are full—
I feel you are a brother Bull.
Therefore, I now take up my hoof
To write these lines by way of proof;
And if gall-bladders for my ink
I use, it is to make men think.

I reverence your patriarch age,
Your knowledge of the historic page;
And when I learn the mutilations
You've suffered—less from time than nations—
It makes my horns turn cold and pale,
While wrath uplifts my stiffening tail.
Nor, do I think, you will refuse
This tribute from the Bovian Muse,
When I confide to your safe ear,
A portion of my sufferings here;
But rather, that your mighty ire
Would spurn the rocks and sands to fire,
And roast your heart, stuff 'd high with pride
Until it burst your marble side.