But it is not to be supposed that the planter’s work is now at an end. He must rouse himself after forty winks, and go off to his cutcherry or office, where he must pass a few hours in company with his native clerks and subordinates. His work is usually interesting and diversified. He must look to his letters from his Calcutta agents, who want to be kept well posted up as to the prospects of the coming crop, and the various heads of expenditure for which money has to be provided. There are communications more or less friendly or unfriendly from the district officials in whose courts civil or criminal suits are pending on behalf of or against people connected with the factory. However peaceably disposed a planter may be, some of his neighbours or some of his own people are sure to bring him before the courts in some way. He may have to receive a visit from his wealthy native neighbour, who has come with sweet words in his mouth, but whose heart is full of bitterness and war. He must listen to the complaints of his own people, and he must sometimes minister to their physical complaints also, though at most large factories a regular medical establishment is maintained to provide for those who are sick or suffering from accidental injuries. As a matter of fact, also, an influential planter administers justice in a quiet way among his own people, and prevents them, if he can, from taking their petty quarrels and disputes into the Government courts, where the expenses of litigation are often almost ruinous to the poorer classes. And thus it comes to pass that the planter finds plenty of occupation in his office for several hours in the afternoon, and he is only too glad when he receives a message from his wife to say that the carriages and horses are ready for the evening drive, or that he is expected to come forth to take his part in a game of polo or lawn-tennis.