few moments to smoke their pipes, we came at last to where the plants had attained some size and the actual picking was going on.  The plants themselves were from two to six feet high, according to age, and from repeated cuttings down had grown into dense masses of small twigs.  Many of them were covered with little white flowers, somewhat similar to the jasmine, and seeds inclosed in a casing not unlike that of the hazel-nut, but thinner and full of oil.  Charley thought they looked like little laurel bushes; to me, those that had been well picked were not unlike huckleberry bushes, only the leaves were, of course, a much darker green.  The first picking, usually in April, is when the leaves are very young and tender, commanding a much higher price than those subsequently plucked.  The second is a month later, when they have attained maturity; and as unpropitious weather would be likely to ruin them, great expedition is used in getting in the crop, the entire population turning out to assist.  A third, and even a fourth, follows; but the quality rapidly deteriorates, and but a small proportion of these last pickings is prepared for export.

[Illustration:  Drying the tea.]

The plantations were filled with a merry crowd, composed principally of women and children, all engaged in stripping the bushes as rapidly as possible, yet with great care and dexterity, so as not to bruise the leaves.  They looked up from their work and screamed to each other in their harsh guttural tones, casting glances of astonishment at the barbarians.  Following some of the coolies, who with filled bags were trudging off to the curing-house, we saw the most interesting operation of all.  Here, at least thirty young girls were engaged in assorting the leaves, picking out all the dead and yellow ones, and preparing them for the hands of the rollers and firers.  Our entrance excited quite a commotion among the damsels, as we were probably the first barbarians they had seen, and we had the reputation of living entirely on fat babies.  A word from Akong, who had joined us, reassured them, and in a few minutes Charley was airing his little stock of Chinese, more, I thought, to their amusement than their edification.  Leaving this room we went into another where the curing was in progress.  On one side extended a long furnace built of bricks, with large iron pans placed at equal distances, and heated by charcoal fires below.  Into these pans leaves by the basketful were poured, stirred rapidly for a few minutes, and then removed to large bamboo frames, where they were rolled and kneaded until all the green juice was freed.  They were then scattered loosely in large, flat baskets, and placed in the sun to dry.  Subsequently, the leaves were again carried to the furnaces and exposed to a gentle heat, until they curled and twisted themselves into the shapes so familiar to you all.  Some of the finer kinds often prepared for exportation are rolled over by hand before being fired.  The great object appears to be to prevent the leaf from breaking; hence, in the commoner kinds and those intended for home consumption, which do not receive the same care, the leaves are found to be very much broken.  In fact, the preparation of this latter sort is very simple:  a mere drying in the sun, after which it presents a dry, broken appearance, like autumn leaves.