to see that none is wasted or stolen. Some are filling sacks full of
the cleaned seed, and hauling them off to the weighman and his clerk.
Two maunds are put in every sack, and when weighed the bags are hauled
up close to the _godown_ or store-room. Here are an army of men with
sailmaker's needles and twine. They sew up the bags, which are then
hauled away to be marked with the factory brand. Carts are coming and
going, carrying bags to the boats, which are lying at the river bank
taking in their cargo, and the returning carts bring back loads of
wood from the banks of the river. In one corner, under a shed, sits
the sahib chaffering with a party of _paikars_ (seed merchants), who
have brought seed for sale.

Of course he decries the seed, says it is bad, will not hear of the
price wanted, and laughs to scorn all the fervent protestations that
the seed was grown on their own ground, and has never passed through
any hands but their own. If you are satisfied that the seed is good,
you secretly name your price to your head man, who forthwith takes up
the work of depreciation. You move off to some other department of the
work. The head man and the merchants sit down, perhaps smoke a
_hookah_, each trying to outwit the other, but after a keen encounter
of wits perhaps a bargain is made. A pretty fair price is arrived at,
and away goes the purchased seed, to swell the heap at the other end
of the yard. It has to be carefully weighed first, and the weighman
gets a little from the vendor as his perquisite, which the factory
takes from him at the market rate.

You have buyers of your own out in the _dehaat_ (district), and the
parcels they have bought come in hour by hour, with invoices detailing
all particulars of quantity, quality, and price. The loads from the
seed depots and outworks, come rolling up in the afternoon, and have