He will be an early riser, because he has had his little flower-garden to weed, or the planting out of his fruit-trees and vegetables to superintend: his farm-yard will then claim his attention; the cows milking and sending forth to grass; the sheep, the turkeys, the geese, ducks, fowls, guinea-hens, etc., all to be attended to; terminating by a pleasant ride round his own plantation (how his heart throbs at the thought, _his own plantation_!), and in seeing that his people are at their various labours for the day. This ride gives him a keen relish for his breakfast; and the forenoon is agreeably occupied in making notes of when such and such a hen first sat on her eggs, and when such a batch of chickens were hatched, etc. At noon he has lunch, and takes his _siesta_; whilst the afternoon is devoted to study, or to correspondence; or, if the fancy take him, and the season be propitious, to a shooting party. There is no game-law to check his ambition, or to limit his range of ground: no preserves, no man-traps, no “All dogs found trespassing will be shot.” He may climb up one hill and go down another; spring a covey of partridges, knock over a couple or more, and then quietly re-load his gun for another shot. The only thing that seem inquisitive about, or will take any interest in, such proceedings are, not game-_keepers_, but game-_destroyers_—jackals and sparrowhawks; the one will track the blood of the wounded partridge more surely even than the dogs, the other soars high over head, and equally robs the sportsman of his game unless numbered amongst his victims.
In the cool of the evening, the emigrant will enjoy his wholesome, abundant, and luxurious dinner, and perhaps, entering into the spirit of Oriental life, take a _fingan_ of coffee, and, may be, smoke a pipe of delicious _Lattakia_; and at ten, at the latest, he takes himself to bed, glad, after the many occupations of the day, to seek that healthful and refreshing sleep, which is sure to be the natural result of so regular a course of life.
Such is the picture of life I have drawn out for a man possessed at the outset of only £50 per annum. Many in the receipt of even more than this sum annually, are now on the threshold of the poorhouse. Surely, if such should peruse these pages, they cannot longer hesitate as to what to do or how to proceed.