Saturday, March 31st.—­Up early, and after rather a scramble we went ashore at seven o’clock, just in time to start by the first train to Kandy.  There was not much time to spare, and we therefore had to pay sovereigns for our tickets instead of changing them for rupees, thereby receiving only ten instead of eleven and a half, the current rate of exchange that day.  It seemed rather sharp practice on the part of the railway company (alias the Government) to take sovereigns in at the window at ten rupees, and sell them at the door for eleven and a half, to speculators waiting ready and eager to clutch and sell them again at an infinitesimally small profit.

The line to Kandy is always described as one of the most beautiful railways in the world, and it certainly deserves the character.  The first part of the journey is across jungle and through plains; then one goes climbing up and up, looking down on all the beauties of tropical vegetation, to distant mountains shimmering in the glare and haze of the burning sun.  The carriages were well ventilated and provided with double roofs, and were really tolerably cool.

About nine o’clock we reached Ambepussa, and the scenery increased in beauty from this point.  A couple of hours later we reached Peradeniya, the junction for Gampola.  Here most of the passengers got out, bound for Neuera-ellia, the sanatorium of Ceylon, 7,000 feet above the sea.  Soon after leaving the station, we passed the Satinwood Bridge.  Here we had a glimpse of the botanical garden at Kandy, and soon afterwards reached the station.  We were at once rushed at by two telegraph boys, each with a telegram of hospitable invitation, whilst a third friend met us with his carriage, and asked us to go at once to his house, a few miles out of Kandy.  We hesitated to avail ourselves of his kind offer, as we were such a large party; but he insisted, and at once set off to make things ready for us, whilst we went to breakfast and rest at a noisy, dirty, and uncomfortable hotel.  It was too hot to do anything except to sit in the verandah and watch planter after planter come in for an iced drink at the bar.  The town is quite full for Easter, partly for the amusements and partly for the Church services; for on many of the coffee estates there is no church within a reasonable distance.

About four o’clock the carriage came round for us, and having despatched the luggage in a gharry, we drove round the lovely lake, and so out to Peradeniya, where our friend lives, close to the Botanic Gardens.  Many of the huts and cottages by the roadside have ‘small-pox’ written upon them in large letters, in three languages, English, Sanscrit, and Cingalese, a very sensible precaution, for the natives are seldom vaccinated, and this terrible disease is a real scourge amongst them.  Having reached the charming bungalow, it was a real luxury to lounge in a comfortable easy chair in a deep cool verandah, and to inhale the fragrance of the flowers, whilst