write about other matters._]

"As to cultivation, there are no words for its excellence or for the
industry of the cultivators. They esteem manure most highly. They have
no need to burn cow-dung for fuel. There is abundance of charcoal.
Thus, not irrigating nor burning dung for fuel, their wealth increases
of itself. They build their houses from ancient times round about
mountainous dung-heaps, upon which they throw all things in season. It
is a possession from father to son, and increase comes forth. Owing to
the number of Army horses in certain places there arises very much
horse-dung. When it is excessive, the officers cause a little straw to
be lit near the heaps. The French and the Phlahamahnds seeing the
smoke, assemble with carts, crying:--'What waste is this?' The officers
reply:--'None will carry away this dung. Therefore, we burn it.' All
the cultivators then entreat for leave to carry it away in their carts,
be it only as much as two dogs can draw. By this device horse-lines are
cleaned.

"Listen to one little thing. The women and the girls cultivate as well
as the men in all respects." [_That is a true tale, Sahib. We know--but
my brother knows nothing except the road to market._] "They plough with
two and four horses as great as hills. The women of Franceville also
keep the accounts and the bills. They make one price for everything. No
second price is to be obtained by _any_ talking. They cannot be cheated
over the value of one grain. Yet of their own will they are generous
beyond belief. When we come back from our work in the trenches, they
arise at any hour and make us warm drinks of hot coffee and milk and
bread and butter. May God reward these ladies a thousand times for
their kindness!

"But do not throw everything upon God. I desire you will get me in
Amritsar City a carpet, at the shop of Davee Sahai and Chumba Mall--one
yard in width and one yard and a half in length, of good colour and
quality to the value of forty rupees. The shop must send it with _all_
charges paid, to the address which I have had written in English
character on the edge of this paper. She is the lady of the house in
which I was billeted in a village for three months. Though she was
advanced in years and belonged to a high family, yet in the whole of
those three months I never saw this old lady sit idle. Her three sons
had gone to the war. One had been killed; one was in hospital, and a
third, at that time, was in the trench