Like hop-picking in this country, tea-picking is very tedious work, but its monotony is relieved by singing during the live-long day. The songs of the hop-pickers are not generally characterized by loftiness of tone or purity of sentiment, but travellers in China speak highly of the songs of the tea-pickers. For instance, Dr. Williams quotes in his book on "The Middle Kingdom" a ballad of the tea-picker, which he considers one of the best of Chinese ballads, if regard be had to the character of the sentiment and metaphors. One or two verses will give an idea of this charming ballad,-- "Where thousand hills the vale enclose, our little hut is there, And on the sloping sides around the tea grows everywhere, And I must rise at early dawn, as busy as can be, To get my daily labour done, and pluck the leafy tea. "The pretty birds upon the boughs sing songs so sweet to hear, And the sky is so delicious now, half drowsy and half clear; While bending o'er her work each maid will prattle of her woe, And we talk till our hearts are sorely hurt and tears unstinted flow." The method of curing is thus described:-- "When the leaves are brought in to the curers they are thinly spread on shallow trays to dry off all moisture by two or three hours' exposure. Meanwhile the roasting-pans are heating, and when properly warmed some handfuls of leaves are thrown on them, and rapidly moved and shaken up for four or five minutes. The leaves make a slight crackling noise, become moist and flaccid as the juice is expelled, and give off even a sensible vapour. The whole is then poured out upon the rolling-table, when each workman takes up a handful and makes it into a manageable ball, which he rolls back and forth on the rattan table to get rid of the sap and moisture as the leaves are twisted. This operation chafes the hands even with great precaution. The balls are opened and shaken out, and then passed on to other workmen, who go through the same operation till they reach the head-man, who examines the leaves, to see if they have become curled. When properly done, and cooled, they are returned to the iron pans, under which a low charcoal fire is burning in the brickwork which supports them, and there kept in motion by the hand. If they need another rolling on the table it is now given them. An hour or more is spent in this manipulation, when they are dried to a dull-green colour, and can be put away for sifting and sorting. This colour becomes brighter after the exposure in sifting the cured leaves through sieves of various sizes; they are also winnowed to separate the dust, and afterwards sorted into the various descriptions of green tea. Finally, the finer kinds are again fired three or four times, and the coarser kinds, as Twankay, Hyson, and Hyson-skin, once. The others furnish the young Hyson, gunpowder, imperial, &c. Tea cured in this way is called _luh cha_, or