"Yes, I get my labour from Mysore. I must take you down to the pulping-house, and let you see some of the process."
"I gather that coffee-planting is an uncertain business?"
"You may say so!" replied Travers. "We are liable to leaf disease, rain, and rot. However, a planter is a sanguine creature, and if he has a bad season, his cry is 'next year.'"
"Now Daddy, we won't have any more coffee till after dinner," announced Nancy authoritatively. "Captain Mayne has not been introduced to the best dogs. This"—pushing forward a large white bull terrier,—"is Sam. Uncle Sam, my property, and shadow."
"I say, what a splendid fellow!" exclaimed Mayne. "Come along and talk to me, Uncle. I love dogs—have you had him long?"
"Ever since he was born. Bessie, his mother, was brought from England as a puppy. She looked after me when I was small, and was so clever and wise. I am sorry to say she died before I came home,—but her son has adopted me."
"Well, Bessie lived to a ripe old age," said Travers; "she must have been thirteen—an extraordinarily intelligent, almost human creature. When the poor old lady felt that her end was approaching, she went round every one of her haunts to bid them farewell—down to 'The Corner,' up to 'Clouds Rest,' and even to the nearer sholahs and beats. Day after day she was to be seen hurrying along all by herself—a strange journey——"
"You have not talked to Togo yet," interposed Nancy, the irrepressible. "Father belongs to him, and sleeps in his room. Come here, and show yourself, my Togo! He is a shy, and eccentric person—nearly always carries a stone in his mouth—a trick inherited from his retriever ancestors."
The animal in question was a yellow and white, curly-haired, long-legged spaniel, with a jaunty tail carried high over his back, and a pair of beseeching dark eyes.
"What do you think of him?"