One of the charms of the garden was the blue Morning Glory (Ipomea Nil). It hung like a mantle of azure blue in the morning sunlight over a bamboo trellis, a mass of colour which no other plant could rival. It was the more welcome, as blue is not a common tint among Indian blossoms, the preponderating colours being red, yellow, and white.
In the compound were several tamarind trees that gave a thick shade. From seven to nine o'clock in the morning it was pleasant to sit beneath them with work or book. The eye often wandered to bird and butterfly, to the noisy squirrels, and the ugly bloodsucker.
Every tree had its barbet, a greeny brown bird with a long Latin name (Xantholæma hæmatocephala), better known as the coppersmith from its note. This is exactly like the beat of the blacksmith's hammer upon the anvil. A very industrious workman it is at its imaginary forge, for the tink-tink-tink continues from sunrise to sunset. Most birds adhere to the eight hours' labour movement, even when they are courting. The English thrush and blackbird sing two hours in the early morning, and then take an interval for breakfast; another spell of singing comes during the course of the forenoon until the luncheon hour. After lunch the birds have a snooze among the branches without putting themselves to bed with their heads under their wings. The last four hours of song are distributed through the afternoon and evening, and then the day's labour is done. The coppersmith works at his anvil the livelong day, irrespective of his courtship. When the nests are deserted in England the birds relapse into silence. The robin and the sparrow may be heard, but the 'unfinished song' of the blackbird and thrush sounds no more from the elm-trees. As long as the weather is warm the barbet never ceases. The climate of Trichinopoly is hot during the winter months,
