A Macassar Farm.
the plow-handle with one hand, while a long bamboo in the other serves to guide the buffaloes. These animals require an immense deal of driving to get them on at all; a continual shower of exclamations is kept up at them, and a oh ! ah ! gee! ugh!a are to be heard in various keys and in an uninterrupted succession all day long. At night we were favored with a different kind of concert. The dry ground around my house had become a marsh tenanted by frogs, who kept up a most incredible noise from dusk to dawn. They were somewhat musical too, having a deep vibrating note which at times closely resembles the tuning of two or three bass-viols in an orchestra. In Malacca and Borneo I had heard
NATIVE WOODEN PLOW.
no such sounds as these, which indicates that the frogs, like most of the animals of Celebes, are of species peculiar to it.
My kind friend and landlord, Mr. Mesman, w^as a good specimen of the Macassar-born Dutchman. He was about thirty-five years of age, had a large family, and lived in a spacious house near the town, situated in the midst of a grove of fruit-trees, and surrounded by a perfect labyrinth of offices, stables, and native cottages, occupied by his numerous servants, slaves, or dependents. He usually rose before the sun, and after a cup of coffee looked after his servants, horses, and dogs till seven, when a substantial breakfast of rice and meat was ready in a cool veranda. Putting on a clean white linen suit, he then drove to town in his buggy, where he had an office, with two or three Chinese clerks, who looked after