repeated over and over again, till the seed is as clean as it can be made.  It is put through bamboo sieves, so formed that any seed larger than indigo cannot pass through.  What remains in the sieve is put aside, and afterwards cleaned, sorted, and sold as food, or if useless, thrown away or given to the fowls.  The men and boys dart backwards and forwards, there is a steady drip, drip, of seed from the scoops, dense clouds of dust, and incessant noise and bustle.  Peons or watchmen are stationed all around to see that none is wasted or stolen.  Some are filling sacks full of the cleaned seed, and hauling them off to the weighman and his clerk.  Two maunds are put in every sack, and when weighed the bags are hauled up close to the godown or store-room.  Here are an army of men with sailmaker’s needles and twine.  They sew up the bags, which are then hauled away to be marked with the factory brand.  Carts are coming and going, carrying bags to the boats, which are lying at the river bank taking in their cargo, and the returning carts bring back loads of wood from the banks of the river.  In one corner, under a shed, sits the sahib chaffering with a party of paikars (seed merchants), who have brought seed for sale.

Of course he decries the seed, says it is bad, will not hear of the price wanted, and laughs to scorn all the fervent protestations that the seed was grown on their own ground, and has never passed through any hands but their own.  If you are satisfied that the seed is good, you secretly name your price to your head man, who forthwith takes up the work of depreciation.  You move off to some other department of the work.  The head man and the merchants sit down, perhaps smoke a hookah, each trying to outwit the other, but after a keen encounter of wits perhaps a bargain is made.  A pretty fair price is arrived at, and away goes the purchased seed, to swell the heap at the other end of the yard.  It has to be carefully weighed first, and the weighman gets a little from the vendor as his perquisite, which the factory takes from him at the market rate.

You have buyers of your own out in the dehaat (district), and the parcels they have bought come in hour by hour, with invoices detailing all particulars of quantity, quality, and price.  The loads from the seed depots and outworks, come rolling up in the afternoon, and have all to be weighed, checked, noted down, and examined.  Every man’s hand is against you.  You cannot trust your own servants.  For a paltry bribe they will try to pass a bad parcel of seed, and even when you have your European assistants to help you, it is hard work to avoid being over-reached in some shape or other.