stars, crosses, and goldlace all over his generala s uniform, and a pair of list slippers on his rheumatic old toes. An orderly walked behind him, holding a gold-edged sunshade over his shining pate. And every now and then, the Duke would stop to look earnestly at his crops; and stooping with a groaning of his flesh, and
uThe West-monsoon has set in, flooding the town.a
a creaking of his tight tunic, straighten some trailing plant, or flick an insect off the sirih leaves.
a The Duke was in his kitchen-garden,
A counting of his money.a
as one might vary the nursery-rhyme.
For money it was he counted, when he gazed so long and earnestly at his vegetablesa the alchemy of his thrifty imagination turning every young stalk and sprouting leaflet into a bit of metal, adorned with his Royal kinsmana s effigy. And when the green pennies-