Long time did Comale stand on the rock and gaze at the vast numbers
of flying, winged "pilgrims." The butterflies seemed countless, and
at last Comale, sighing a little, said, "They are very good," and,
jumping from his rock, made haste toward the cinnamon gardens where
he worked.

Comale was a "peeler." In the perfectly white soil around the city
of Colombo, the cinnamon tree flourishes as well as, if not better
than, in any other place in the world. It requires much practice to
become a skillful peeler of cinnamon, but Comale, having been taught
by his father, and being moreover a careful, observing lad, was fast
attaining a degree of success in his trade. Formerly the Cingalese
had allowed the cinnamon trees to grow to their natural height,
about twenty or thirty feet, and naturally the cinnamon bark from
such trees had been tough. This was long ago, however, before even
the Dutch owned Colombo. Better wisdom came with them, and in these
later days of English rule, sensible ideas still prevailed. The
cinnamon trees were kept pruned, and the comparatively young shoots
were found to produce better cinnamon than old trees had done.

Comale, arriving at the gardens, began to work. The branches he
chose for cutting were about three feet long and were the growth of
from three to five years.

Comale made longitudinal cuts in the bark, two cuts in a small
shoot, more cuts in a large shoot, and then with his instrument
carefully removed the bark strips.

He placed the pieces of bark in bundles, in which shape the cinnamon
was to stay for a while, that it might ferment, so that the outer