seated,--yes, that is the only word for it,--seated in the midst of
my heap of rice, which was now covered by fine black powder from its
sooty outside. All the rice was utterly and completely spoiled. I
don't believe that five clean grains were left in the dish There
was nothing for it but to leave it to get cold and then throw it all
out for the fowls, who don't mind _riz au noir_ it seems. Although
I feel more than half ashamed to confess it, I am by no means sure I
did not retire into the store-room and shed a tear over the fate of
that rice. Everybody else laughed, but I was dreadfully mortified
and vexed.



Chapter XIII: Amateur Servants.


I flattered myself on a certain occasion that I had made some very
artful arrangements to provide the family with something to eat
during the servants' absence. I had been lamenting the week of
experiments in food which would be sure to ensue so soon as the dray
should leave, in the hearing of a gallant young ex-dragoon, who had
come out to New Zealand to try and see if one could gratify tastes,
requiring, say a thousand a year to provide for, on an income of 120
pounds. He was just finding out that it was quite as difficult to
manage this in the Southern as in the Northern Hemisphere, but his
hearty cheery manner, and enormous stock of hope, kept him up for
some time.

"I'll come and cook for you," he cried. "I can cook like a bird.
But I can't wash up. No, no: it burns too much. If you can get