the interest, and cheat in the weighments and measurements. So much has
to be given to the weigh-man as a perquisite. If seed had been borrowed,
it has now to be returned at a ruinous rate of interest. Some seed must
be saved for next year, and an average _poor_ ryot, the cultivator of
but a little holding, very soon sees the result of his harvesting melt
away, leaving little for wife and little ones to live on. He never
gets free of the money-lender. He will have to go out and work hard
for others, as well as get up his own little lands. No chance of a new
bullock this year, and the old ones are getting worn out and thin. The
wife must dispense with her promised ornament or dress. For the poor
ryot it is a miserable hand-to-mouth existence when crops are poor.
As a rule he is never out of debt. He lives on the scantiest fare;
hunger often pinches him; he knows none of the luxuries of life.
Notwithstanding all, the majority are patient, frugal, industrious,
and to the full extent of their scanty means even charitable and
benevolent. With the average ryot a little business goes a great way.
There are some irreconcileable, discontented, worthless fellows in
every village. All more or less count a lie as rather a good thing to
be expert in; they lie naturally, simply, and instinctively: but with
all his faults, and they are doubtless many, I confess to a great
liking for the average Hindoo ryot.

At times, however, their apathy and laziness is amazing. They are very
childish, petted, and easily roused. In a quarrel, however, they
generally confine themselves to vituperation and abuse, and seldom
come to blows.

As an instance of their fatalism or apathetic indolence, I can remember
a village on the estate I was managing taking fire. It was quite close
to the factory. I had my pony saddled at once, and galloped off for the