Recife is divided into three parts by streams of water or lagoons, and there are many bridges connecting the various parts. In fact it is cut up so much by these arms of the ocean that it has been called the South American Venice. The city is fifth in size in the republic, and is quite a pretty little city with plazas and parks after the usual style. In the oldest part of the city the streets are narrow and crooked, but on the other and larger peninsula, the blocks of houses are larger, the streets wider, and there are some good stores as well as tram cars. The colour of the inhabitants is rather marked, but there is, possibly, not so large a percentage of the negro element as in the larger city lower down on the coast.

The state of Pernambuco is a state about the size of Ohio, and one of the important states in the republic. Its population exceeds the million mark. Because of its large black population, many of whom were formerly slaves, education has not advanced here as much as in a number of the states farther south. Its commerce is considerable, with sugar as the leading item. Cotton is also an important production. At the port one can see cotton coming in on wagons, ox-carts, the backs of mules and even on the black shoulders of the inhabitants. The coast-line of Pernambuco is only a little over a hundred miles in length, but the state runs inland for several hundred miles.

It will probably be surprising to many people to know that the whaling industry is quite an important one along this coast, for this sport is supposed to be confined to polar waters. And yet I have personally seen whales on the western coast of South America almost as far north as the equator. On this coast they are caught up to within twelve degrees of the line. Along the coast of Bahia there are several whaling stations, most of which are in the vicinity of the city of Bahia. As soon as the Antarctic winter sets in, the whales begin to migrate northward and reach these waters in May. From then until November the whaling boats may be seen at any time out on the Atlantic with all sails set, looking for a “blow,” which marks the presence of the game. Passengers on the steamers also watch for the same signs, as it is a novel sight to those making their first trip, and the older travellers are also looking for any diversion.

The whales caught are full of blubber, but the whalebone in the jaws of the variety found here is too short to have much commercial value. The whales generally average from thirty to fifty feet in length, but catches are sometimes made of these marine monsters that will reach sixty feet long. The longest one of which any record has been made was seventy feet from its nose to the end of its tail, and yielded nearly six thousand quarts of oil. The meat is also considered quite a delicacy by many of the Bahians, who devour it eagerly. The methods pursued by the whaler are primitive, and more than half the whales once harpooned finally escape. And yet with all this primitiveness, the average annual catch is from three to four hundred whales, which is not such a bad record.

A day’s run brings the traveller to the most important city in Brazil north of Rio de Janeiro. It is situated on a bay which is generally classed as one of the fine harbours of the world. When Americus Vespucius entered this beautiful and commodious harbour with a fleet, he named it Bahia da Todos os Santos, the Bay of All Saints, in honour of the feast day on which it was first seen. When this discovery was reported to the King of Portugal, he sent out an expedition with instructions to build a city “strong enough not only to keep the natives in awe, but also to resist the attack of any more formidable army.” The present city was founded in 1549, so that the city has outgrown its swaddling clothes long ago. It has also been a city of importance, as it was for almost two centuries the seat of colonial power, and the residence of the Governor-General representing the Crown. The city was originally named São Salvador, and should be called that to-day, but the name of the state clings to the capital as well.

The bay up which the vessel sails to its anchorage has sheltered many and strange craft during the past four centuries since its first discovery. It is a magnificent expanse of water, completely sheltered from the open sea, and large enough to contain all the navies of the world, for it is from ten to twenty miles wide and twenty-seven miles in length. There are no docks, and the boat generally anchors about half a mile from shore. As soon as the port officer has visited the ship, a gang of bandits in the form of men of dark visage crowd around the gangway, and seek to take the passengers ashore. It is necessary to bargain very carefully, and pay nothing to the boatman until the round trip has been made; otherwise you will be compelled to pay extra for your return to the ship.

The city is divided into an upper and a lower town, and is quite an imposing place. The lower part is a narrow, sun-baked strip along the sea front, and is devoted to the shipping and banking interests. One would think that even they would want to get away from the foul-smelling odours which prevail along the waterfront. As one writer has said, “there is a distinct and separate bad smell to every house.”

During the day this section is a busy place, but at night a funereal quiet prevails. The upper city, or Cidade Alta, is reached by a long winding road, or by means of the ascensors, or elevators, of which there are several. The upper city is composed of broader streets, is in every way more attractive, and the air seems much purer and sweeter than in the lower town.

The sights are novel enough, too, especially if it is the first Brazilian city visited. Here one will also meet with that luxuriant growth of flowers, which are seen in every plaza and private dooryard. The public buildings, of which there are a number, for this city is the capital of a state as large as California, are very creditable. The governor’s palace, the senate building, the municipal and other buildings occupy conspicuous sites. There are many churches, of which the Cathedral is the most interesting, and is one of the oldest buildings in the country, having originally been built as a Jesuit college. Clubs, theatres and bathing resorts also add a liveliness to life in this city. Bahia has always been known for its noted names in literature, and many of the brightest men in Brazilian arts and letters were natives of this state.

The bright hues of the buildings add a brilliance of colour to the city which some one has described as “mashed rainbows.” There are vivid yellow, green, purple, sky blue, terra-cotta and many other equally striking shades. Many of the buildings are covered with porcelain tiles, which render them very attractive. Some of the windows are ornamented with a lace work of wrought iron, and occasionally the decoration over the doors is of the same metal, which is said to be of negro designing. Some of these houses date back to colonial times, but others have more cosmopolitan characteristics. The fronts of the yards are ornamented with flowering trees and shrubs that harmonize (in some instances) with the bright colours adorning the plaster covering of the adobe brick, which is the basis of construction used here. Most of the houses are only one story, although two stories are fairly common, and occasionally a sky-scraper three stories in height may be encountered.

There is one thing that will impress itself upon the traveller, and that is the colour of its inhabitants, for it is said that Bahia has a greater proportion of negroes than any other Brazilian city, but it would be a close race between that city and Pernambuco. One might think that he had stepped into one of our southern states, except for the fact that none of the kinky-haired inhabitants speak English. All of them jabber in the guttural Portuguese. Everywhere one goes there are negroes, and negroes of every hue from the aboriginal blackness to a chocolate brown and saffron yellow. I counted fifty people as they passed by me on one of the principal streets. Of this number forty-five were decidedly black, three were surely white, and the remaining two I was not certain about. At the same time a fellow-traveller counted thirty-five on the other side of the street, and said that he was sure of only two white people out of that number. This was about the middle of the day, when the white people were probably taking their siesta, and the proportion would not hold good over the whole city. It is certain, however, as statistics show, that at least eighty per cent. of the population have a sprinkling of negro blood in their veins. And yet, with all this preponderance of blacks, the attempt of the United States to appoint a negro consul at this port almost raised a tropical hurricane just a few years ago.

The shade of black does not mean social ostracism, and one will find white and black side by side in every social circle. Along the docks, and in the markets, one may see the negro men bearing heavy burdens on their heads, after the manner of Mexican cargadors, while the women sit around with a few articles for sale, and smoke huge, black cigars while waiting for prospective customers. The women also have that peculiar stride, which is characteristic of those who are accustomed to carry loads upon their heads. Some of the negro women are monstrous in size, and weigh from two hundred to two hundred and fifty pounds. Their dress, which consists of a long, white sleeveless chemise cut low in the neck, is so simple that it is easy to see that no padding is used. Nearly all wear white, or brightly coloured turbans, some wear shawls folded across the shoulders, and all are either barefooted or wear a heelless slipper.

The shacks made of lumps of clay thrust between slats like lath, and roofed with thatch, which one may find on the edge of the city, are the homes of many of these improvident blacks. In this climate there is no need to lay up for to-morrow, and children are not expensive, for clothing is not needed until several years after they become members of the family. Some of the poor babies may wear a simple coin or chain around the neck, but that will be all, except perhaps the innocent smile of childhood. And yet most of these negroes seemed to be busy at something, although the wages earned are no doubt very small. They impressed me as being rather superior in type to many of our negroes, such as one may find in some parts of Mississippi or Alabama.

It is not good policy for a white man to appear on the street without a coat, as he will lay himself liable to insult by the negroes. One of the men from the steamer took off his coat and carried it on his arm. A white man warned him, but he did not understand the language. It was not long until some negroes began to throw things at him. As soon as he put his coat on again these insults stopped. Coatless comfort on hot days is reserved by the negroes themselves.

The breath of the tropics prevails at Bahia, as it is not far from the equatorial line. A ride to the suburb of Rio Vermelho, which looks out upon the sea, passes through avenues of tropical trees and past fields of bananas. To me the palm is the most interesting tree of the tropics. The mango with its dense foliage, the umbrella tree with its curious yet graceful shape, and many flowering trees—all of these are beautiful; but when I see the palm, I feel like saying with the poet:

Tropical fruits of many kinds grow in abundance. The Bahia oranges, which are green in colour, have a fine flavour. The cajú is a peculiar fruit about the size of a lemon, with the seed growing out at one end, as though it was stuck on in some way. This fruit is sweet but astringent, and is considered a great blood purifier. The kidney-shaped nut, when raw, is dangerous to eat because of poisonous juice it contains; but a roasting drives out the poisonous quality and the nut is then delicious. The mango, which, to those who have cultivated a liking, is the most delicious of fruits, grows to great size in Bahia, and has a most excellent flavour. One feels like getting into a bathtub, however, after eating one, in order to get rid of the muss made in eating it. I have not yet learned to be fond of this tropical fruit for, like olives, the taste is acquired, and it oftentimes requires many and repeated efforts to cultivate a taste. There is a fruit that grows out of the side and trunk of great trees, which much resembles an immense hedge apple, that is peculiar to this district. It grows to an immense size, and the natives are very fond of it. Then there are melons called the mammão, that grow on trees, and which much resemble the cantaloupe in appearance, but differ in flavour. This melon is said to have excellent digestive properties because of the abundance of pepsin which it contains. All of these, and many more novel things one will find in the markets. The curious little marmosette monkeys, which are not much larger than a good-sized rat, are very common. Then again, this is the home of talking parrots, and their shrill screeches are heard from almost every doorway.

The first experience of the traveller with Brazilian money is rather amusing. In New York I had obtained five thousand five hundred reis, which seemed like a large sum of money, enough to pay for the whole trip. Imagine my surprise when I found it lacked five hundred reis of enough to pay for my first meal on shore! It cost three hundred reis to mail a letter to the States, and a street car ride cost another four hundred reis. My boatman cheated me out of one thousand reis without moving an eyelid. All of these things caused me to put pencil to paper in a little calculation. I found that I was a millionaire for the first time in my life. At the rate of exchange then prevailing three hundred and twenty-five dollars would buy one million reis, the money of the country. You may feel like a millionaire when the bank clerk hands over to you a package of bills, with thousands of reis printed all over them; but the illusion soon vanishes when your hotel bill is presented after a few days’ stay, for a million reis soon disappears. The reis in an infinitesimal coin, so small that you could scarcely see it with a magnifying glass, for one thousand of them are worth only thirty-one cents. The milreis (one thousand reis) is used as the unit, and accounts are thus carried in the decimal system, with the dollar mark at the end of the thousand. Thus, one million reis, which is one thousand milreis, or, as it is generally called, one conto, would be written 1,000$000. It is the same as the Portuguese monetary system, although the Brazilian milreis is only worth about half as much as that of Portugal. The money is all paper, and the most of it is the dirtiest and filthiest money I have ever handled. Some of the bills are so tattered, torn and greasy that it is almost impossible for a stranger to tell what denomination they are. The small denominations are large and awkward coins of several different issues, and of several different sizes.

The state of Bahia is one of the larger states of Brazil, and has a coast line of several hundred miles. It is traversed by mountains in every direction, and that has perhaps been the cause of the tardy development of the country through railroad construction, because of the difficulties and expenses involved. There are a couple of railways which run inland from Bahia, but no railroad connects it with the adjoining states. It is always necessary to come back to the capital city, and take the steamer again for whatever port one is bound for. The productions of the state are varied, and a great deal of the products is exported. The tobacco export from this port is greater than that of all the other productions together. The leaf tobacco is exported in great quantities, but the Bahia cigarettes and cigars have a great reputation in Brazil; and the manufacture of them furnishes employment to thousands of the dusky-hued Bahians. When you consider that the women aid the men in smoking, it will be seen that the home consumption is no inconsiderable quantity.

A dusky boatman rowed me out to the vessel, just as the sun was setting in a lurid glow behind the hills, which form the background of Bahia. The dancing waves reflected the lurid colours of the retreating sun, and the bright colours of the Bahia houses seemed to be borrowed from that radiant orb. Then, as darkness fell, the electric lights were lighted in the lower town and up on the hill; and Bahia looked like a city of enchantment. Here and there moved streaks of light as the electric cars dashed along; and again, similar streaks moved up and down as the ascensors carried their loads. Rockets were going up in various parts of the city, for some religious celebration was being held. It was amidst such scenes that our good ship weighed anchor and we moved south, getting farther and farther away from the fierce breath of the tropics at each revolution of the rapidly revolving propeller.

With land in sight about half the time, it was almost a three days’ journey to cover the intervening distance of seven hundred and fifty miles to Rio de Janeiro. On the morning of the third day the passengers were on deck early, for the capital was nearing. The sandy shores of the mainland were visible, with their background of rugged peaks. Little rocky islands with the surf dashing up against their jagged edges rose out of the water, and were successively passed. Schools of fish that swam so near to the surface, that they could be followed by the agitation of the water which they caused, were chased by flocks of birds that ever and anon dashed beneath the surface and came up with their prey. As the morning fog lifted, curious forts with disappearing guns could be outlined on the shore, and one imposing fort on a prominent peak seemed to protect the city. Then old Sugar Loaf, which has been so much pictured, lifted its lofty head out of the gloom, with Corcovado and the other peaks in the background. Gradually the harbour of Rio de Janeiro, which is said by all travellers to be one of the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful bay in the world, unfolded itself; and back of the blue waters of the bay were the white walls and red-tiled roofs of the city, and above and beyond the city were the fantastic peaks of the many oddly formed hills which form the background of this fascinating city.

There are a number of other states in this section of Brazil, each of which deserves some mention. Between Pernambuco and Bahia lie two of the smaller states, Alagoas and Sergipe. The former is a state almost as large as Indiana, and is the most populous in the republic. It is a rich agricultural state, with sugar and cotton as the principal crops. The name, A-lagoas, means the lakes, and it is upon one of the principal of these that the capital, Maceio, is situated. This is a pretty little town of forty thousand or more inhabitants. The people of the state are generally Portuguese, with more or less mixture of the native or negro races. The two military presidents of Brazil were from this state. Sergipe, the smallest state, is nearly twice as large as our own state of Massachusetts, and has a population of about half a million. On the coast it is low, hot and swampy, but in the interior the soil is higher, and most of it very fertile. It has neither a railroad nor a good port, so that the state is greatly handicapped in its commerce. The capital is Aracajú, which is a pretty little tropical city of about twenty-five thousand people. It is quite probable that Sergipe will one day be absorbed by one of the larger states, as the financial problem is a serious one.

Sections of each of the three states lying north of Pernambuco, Parahyba, Rio Grande do Norte and Ceará lie within what is termed an arid belt. This seems a very strange occurrence so near the equator. There are, however, droughts there that last for several years, and so greatly impoverish the people that government succour becomes necessary. When I was in Brazil a government commission was just starting for that section to study the question, and see what could be done to introduce dry farming methods. Parahyba, which is a little larger than Alagoas, is perhaps the least affected, but still its climate is generally hot and dry. In the lowlands sugar and rice are cultivated, and in the uplands cereals. Cotton is likewise one of the chief products, and a great many cattle are raised in the interior. The capital city has the same name, and is an interior town connected with the seaport, Cabedello, by rail.

Rio Grande do Norte is the most northeasterly state, and was the first land sighted by Europeans on the shores of South America. Its area of twenty-two thousand square miles includes much arid territory where rain is very uncertain. Artesian wells have been tried without much success, and dry farming seems to be the only hope, although the droughts only come periodically. Premiums have been offered for the digging of these wells, and the construction of dams or reservoirs. One of the chief industries outside of agriculture is the production of salt, of which thousands of tons are made each year from the rich saline deposits along the northern shore. Natal is the capital and chief seaport. Although this city is not large to-day, it is very old, having been founded in 1597.

Ceará is a progressive state despite famines which have come about every eleven years, and at times have greatly reduced the population, for fevers have generally followed the famines. The inhabitants are workers, and from this state have been drawn the labourers to develop the rubber industry. Ceará was the first state to emancipate the slaves, and in many ways the people have shown themselves progressive. They stick to the home land regardless of famines and droughts, and cultivate their fields assiduously. The cacao of this state is very fine, and the cattle industry is an important one. This state, the size of Illinois, supports a population of nearly a million, of which about fifty thousand live in the capital city of Fortaleza.

Piauhy is a large state about which little is known. It has a population of less than two to the square mile, and has a coast line not exceeding ten miles on the Atlantic. Only a very small portion of the land is cultivated. The principal exports are a white wax, made from the scales of a palm, and a rubber known as Maniçoba rubber. The towns are small, the largest, Therizina, also the capital, having a population of only twenty thousand. There is much fine timber in the state, and probably not a saw-mill to cut it. With railroads, men of enterprise and money, Piauhy might be developed into a great, prosperous and influential state.

About half-way between Bahia and Pernambuco is the mouth of the São Francisco River, another of the great water-courses of Brazil. For a thousand miles from its mouth this river is navigable for small vessels, except for a distance of about one hundred miles, where there are some wonderful rapids and inspiring falls. In April, when the dry season sets in, the people from the hillsides and mountains move down to plant their corn, beans, rice and mandioca. The freshets leave a deposit of fine white sand, which enriches the soil. It is not necessary to break the ground. The native makes a hole in the ground, with a sharp stick, into which a seed is dropped and then covered. He then builds a shelter of the palm branches and awaits the maturing of his crops. When they are gathered he sells his surplus to the traders, and moves up again into the hills and mountains, where he lives a life of comparative ease and idleness until the next season.

The principal falls of the São Francisco are called Paulo Alfonso, and are a two days’ trip up the river from its mouth, through tropical scenery. The average width of this river above the falls is two-thirds of a mile, and the volume of water is great, for it drains an immense territory. The rapids begin some distance above the falls proper. The whirling and churning water is dashed along on its way toward the final leap, where this immense volume of water is forced through a break in the precipitous banks, not more than fifty feet wide. The falls are slightly crescent shaped. As the main body of the water rushes, leaps and surges down the steep incline of the last rapids, it is hurled against a steep black wall with great momentum; broken into foam and spray, swishing, swirling and churning, it then rebounds only to be pushed over the abyss at a right angle to its original course. The waters then rush forward for a few hundred feet, only to be hurled back by another rock wall three hundred feet high, thus forming a whirlpool, from which it finally escapes and passes through a narrow gorge for several miles, from which it emerges in a little quieter mood. The total fall of the water is two hundred and seventy feet. The view from a height of nearly one hundred feet, as one looks down upon the final leap of one hundred and ninety feet, is awe-inspiring. There is not only a wonderful view of the falls from that point, but a bird’s-eye view of the rapids, and the roar of the falls and rapids is something terrific.

CHAPTER III
THE CITY OF BEAUTIFUL VIEWS

If the capital of Argentina deserves to be called the “City of Good Airs,” then the capital of Brazil should be termed Buenas Vistas, the “City of Beautiful Views.” Of all the cities in the world Rio de Janeiro best deserves to be called by that name. This is not my opinion alone, but it is the almost unanimous verdict of this most beautiful city. Everywhere that the eye falls, it is met with a view that is a worthy subject for the artist’s brush. The camera fiend is kept busy “pressing the button,” for at almost every turn there is the temptation to expose the sensitive plate which will reproduce the scene that so appeals to the eye. But, although the plate or film faithfully reproduces the outline and detail of the scene, the blue of the sky and the waters of the bay, the green of the palms, and the other trees, the colours of the flowers which are omnipresent, and the bright and varied tints of the houses are sadly missing in the resulting photograph. All of these are absolutely necessary to complete the picture, which lingers in the memory of one who has visited this second city of South America.

When the early navigators sailed up the island-studded bay, which leads to the present site of the capital of Brazil, they thought it must surely be the mouth of a broad river, and, as it was in the month of January, they named it, for want of a better name, Rio de Janeiro, the River of January, and the name has clung to the bay and settlement, which has grown into a thriving city, during the succeeding four centuries. No one, however, since that time has been able to discover the supposed river which led to the name. So this city of lovely views and of romantic history bears, and has always borne, a name which is a misnomer, but this fact has not affected either the beauty of the scene or the development of the city. It is simply another illustration of the saying that there is little in a name, and a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet. The inhabitant of the city is even called a “flumenense,” from the word meaning a river.

The full name of Brazil’s capital is San Sebastian de Rio de Janeiro, and its foundation dates back to the year 1566, when a landing was effected here by a few colonists near the famous Sugar Loaf mountain. A citadel was built on a hill now called Morro do Castillo. Near this was next erected a church called San Sebastian, in honour of the city’s patron saint, which ancient structure is still standing as one of the few memorials of the remote past, and within its walls rest the remains of the city’s founder, Estacio de Sá. There are still a few other relics of these earlier days, but most of them have been greatly altered, and many of them practically rebuilt.

For a couple of centuries Brazil was the seat of Portuguese power in the new world, and it was the centre of many political struggles during the capitancias. It pulsated with that excitement that can only be found in Latin cities, and many a plot and counterplot has been batched within its environs. For a while, during Napoleon’s occupancy of the throne, it was the seat of government, for the royal family of Portugal fled to these hospitable shores, and all the wealth, pomp, splendour and gayety of a powerful and extravagant court was transferred to this city. This lasted only for a short time, for Napoleon was overthrown, and the royal family returned to the mother land. Political discontent in Brazil soon led to the establishment of an independent empire, with the son of the reigning monarch of Portugal as the ruler of the new nation.

Rio, for nearly every one uses the short appellation, has seen many changes. Starting as a small settlement of adventurers, it became successively the capital of a capitancia, a province, a kingdom, an empire and a republic. All of the latter changes have taken place within the last century. And yet, among all those changes, from the extreme of capitancia to republic, there has been none which so completely affected the appearance, and perhaps final destiny of the city, as the metamorphosis which has taken place during the past half dozen years. The visitor to the Rio of a decade ago, with its antiquated streets, old-fashioned architecture and foul-smelling open-sewered public thoroughfares, which more nearly resembled alleys than streets, would scarcely recognize the new capital of broad avenues, clean, well-swept pavements and the beautiful boulevard which follows the sweep of the bay for many miles.

The old has not been entirely displaced by the new, for the famous Ouvidor still remains, and during all the business hours of the day is filled with a throng of shoppers, business men and the idle who spend their waking hours in the cafés or other resorts. It is still the great shopping as well as gossiping street. The people spread themselves over the sidewalk and street, for all other traffic is excluded from this street during those hours. It still possesses some of the best stores and the best of everything that pleases the Brazilians. Thousands of people pass through this street each day, who come for no other purpose than to shake hands with and talk to friends. It may be that their only desire is to see and to be seen. The officeholder comes here to feel the pulse of the people, and the politician tries to hold a public reception on the sidewalk. It is likewise a cosmopolitan crowd, for one will find not only all classes of Brazilians, but many other nationalities. Swells with silk hats bump up against half-dressed negroes with loads on their heads. Lottery peddlers accost you on every corner, and sometimes pester you until it becomes an annoyance. Many of the other streets might be recognized as they have not been changed, although the nomenclature is different, for there has been a new set of heroes and notables, whose names should be preserved in this public way. Nearly all of the old names have disappeared from the signs that face the traveller on all the corners. Even on old Ouvidor, instead of that familiar word, appears in places the name of Moreira Cesar. Other new names are 15th of November, 7th of September, Gonçalves Diaz (the poet), etc., etc.

A few years ago the city fathers decided that they would transform the capital and make it not only a beautiful but a more beautiful city. Engineers and architects were employed, plans were drawn up and work was begun on an elaborate scale, which has not been entirely completed as yet. Perhaps the most remarkable feature of the work was the construction of the Avenida Central through the centre of the city, from sea to sea, and its continuation around the bay where it is called Avenida Beira Mar. The Avenida Central starts at a section of the city called the Mauá, and extends through the heart of the city for a mile to the Monroe Palace. A few years ago this was a tangle of narrow, foul-smelling streets and lanes, which the government was compelled to buy at a large figure. Night and day forces were set at work tearing down the old buildings, removing the débris, constructing the drainage and paving, so that the progress made was remarkably rapid for a tropical country, or for any country or clime. Over three thousand men were kept at work night and day, and four hundred buildings were demolished to carry out the work. In less than two years the change was accomplished, and now this avenue, one hundred and five feet in width, with broad pavements made of mosaic worked into odd designs, a row of brazil trees on each curb, and in the centre, alternating with artistic lamp-posts, has the appearance of one of the famous avenues of Paris. Fine new buildings have been built on each side, many of them of really artistic design and finish. The rounded corner has been used at the street intersections, the building line being on a curve of a considerable radius. This adds a beauty and dignity to the architecture of buildings that is lacking in the cities of the United States.

The Monroe Palace, which is a reproduction of the Brazilian building at the St. Louis Exposition, and which received a medal for its artistic design, marks the boundary between the two avenues. The building was completed in 1906, and the sessions of the Pan-American conference were held in it during that year, for which it had been specially constructed. It is a beautiful building, and stands in a location where it appears to the very best possible advantage. Here the Beira Mar (around the sea) begins, and it is so named because it runs between the hills and the bay, and follows the outline of the latter. Much of it is made land, and occupies what was at one time the favourite breeding place of the mosquitoes which were formerly the pest of this city. Double roadways in places, of different elevations, small parks, and the ever-varying outline of hill and bay, the intense shades of green of the dense vegetation, and the palms in stately rows and silhouetted against the horizon make this avenue the most beautiful and most fascinating boulevard in the world. I never tired of riding along the Beira Mar, for the angle of vision is constantly changing in its many turns and twists, and every change is only a new vision of beauty and interest. Thus the drive leads out past the Praia da Lapa, the Praia da Russell and the Praia da Flamengo until it ends in the horseshoe curve of Botafogo, where the exposition of 1908 was held and the buildings of which are yet standing. The Beira Mar is one of the favourite residence districts, and it is lined here and there with beautiful homes. It is easy to go into raptures over such scenes, and dull indeed is the soul that could not be stirred by them.

Among the other streets which have been widened is the Rua Uruguayana, which starts at the custom house and cuts across the city at right angles to the Avenida Central. It is a broad street for a Latin city, but is not so wide as the other. The Avenida do Mangue is a picturesque street, with its quadruple line of stately palms which run its entire length of a mile or more. Rio is the home of the royal palm, and you see them all over the city. The trees are round and smooth and almost as symmetrical as if cut by a sculptor. No avenue of marble columns can equal these furnished by nature. The Canal do Mangue runs through the centre of the Mangue and there are four driveways along it, two on either side of the canal, as it is very broad. Leaving the palms and following the canal, the avenue makes a broad sweep and leads out to the new docks which are being constructed at great expense. Immense warehouses have been built and great cranes erected, but they are not in use, because it is necessary to dredge a channel before the ocean-going vessels of deep draught can reach the docks. Work is progressing, however, and it will not be long until it will no longer be necessary for vessels to anchor out in the open, and for both passengers and freight to be brought ashore either in launches or row boats. Thus will one of the annoyances as well as one of the big items of expense at this port be eliminated. Along the line of warehouses, and parallel with the harbour line, an avenue has been laid out that is more than three hundred feet in width. This gives abundant room for railroad tracks, tram tracks and driveways for both wagons and pleasure vehicles.

There are many pretty little parks scattered over the city, each one of which is a miniature of beauty. The Jardim do Passeio Publico, near the Monroe Palace, is one of these. Its profusion of vegetation is such as can only be seen in a tropical climate, where there is no destroying frost and where a kind nature encourages growth during the entire year. The Praça da Republica is in the very centre of the city, and is the largest park in the city proper. It was the chief theatre of action in the memorable events in which the country was changed from an empire to a republic within the short period of twenty-four hours. Because of this event the name was changed from its former name of Praça d’Acclamacão. There are many statues, in this and all the other parks, of men who have been famous in the country’s history. One of the most noted is that of Dom Pedro I in the Praça Tiradentes, which represents him in the act of shouting the watchword “Independence or death,” after he received the message from the Portuguese Cortes at Ypiranga, just outside the city of São Paulo. There is also a fine monument to the Duke de Caxais, one of the heroes of the Paraguayan war, in a park which bears his name. Another striking feature of the city is the ancient Carioca Aqueduct, which is a monument of picturesque grandeur where its lofty arches loom up over the comparatively low buildings. It was built more than a century and a half ago, but still remains as solid and substantial as when first built. It is now used by the tramway company as a part of its line which ascends the hill leading up to the Corcovado.

There are many charitable institutions in the city for the care of unfortunates and the amelioration of suffering. There are orphan asylums, free clinics for the treatment of various troubles, an institution maintained by the society formed to combat the plague of tuberculosis, and institutions for the care of the deaf and dumb, blind and insane. The largest hospital in Rio de Janeiro, and perhaps on South American soil, is the Santa Casa de Misericordia, which was founded by the Sisters of Mercy in 1545. The buildings now occupied by this noted institution have been in use for nearly three-quarters of a century, but they have recently been overhauled and remodelled. The buildings are in a classic and beautiful style of architecture, as are most of the public buildings in Brazil. It has accommodation for more than twelve hundred patients. One of the strange and unusual features of this hospital is a revolving wheel made for the reception of unwelcome infants. In this wheel a cradle is so arranged that when an infant is laid on it the wheel turns around, and the little stranger finds a welcome it did not find elsewhere. No questions are asked, no effort is made to find out who placed the infant in the cradle, and the babe is taken care of until it is ready to go forth and work for itself, or has been adopted by some good family. If this institution does nothing else, it takes away the incentive to infanticide which prevails in many places. There is also in the city a Strangers’ Hospital, which is mainly supported by the foreign residents of the capital, and it is an institution that has done a great deal of good among those who are expatriated from their homes by the exigencies of business.

The market is always an interesting place to visit in a Latin country, for the life to be seen there is unique. The market scenes in Rio are not so picturesque as in the cities farther inland, but there are still many unique scenes to be witnessed. It is situated just at one side of the Plaza 15th of November, and on the water front, so that the fishing boats can unload direct into the market and the garbage can easily be disposed of. The building is large and commodious, of an indifferent architecture, but well adapted to its purposes. The deepest impression made upon a visit to this place is the decidedly tropical characteristics to be seen everywhere. Tropical fruits, consisting of oranges, bananas, pineapples, mangoes, mammão, etc., are to be seen in great abundance everywhere. The salted meat so commonly used is stacked up like cordwood. It has a strong smell and is very salty, but it is much liked by the common people, and frequently brings a better price than fresh beef. Fat pork is salted in the same way and done up in rolls from which slices are cut off for the customer. This fat is usually used in cooking the beans which form such an important article of food. There are many kinds of strange fish in that department, for the waters along the coast of Brazil are filled with excellent fish. One fish, which is quite large, is very peculiar, because its eyes extend out an inch or more from its head. Then there are little jelly fish in great numbers, and a little creature that looks like a miniature devil-fish which seems to be a favourite article of food. Shrimps and oysters will also be found for sale. Birds of brilliant plumage await the buyers in their cages, while green and purple parrots sit sedately on their perches and fill the air with their rough screeches. Chickens, ducks, geese, turkeys and guinea pigs are found in abundance, and even dogs are caged up awaiting new owners. But the numerous monkeys, from the little marmosettes to the big ones three or four feet high, who sit and blink at you like curious little old men, will probably hold the attention of the northern visitor longer than any other one feature of the market at Rio de Janeiro.

To this market come the hucksters from all parts of the city for their supplies, which they then peddle from door to door. Fish and vegetables are carried in baskets that are hung on the ends of a long pole, which is balanced across the shoulder. A score or more of fowls may be placed in a basket which the peripatetic merchant carries around on his head, while the inmates cackle and crow along the way. The bread merchant carries his stock in trade on his head, in a contrivance which looks more like a baby-crib than anything else. Onions and garlic are carried on strings with the stems woven together with straw. Along the streets one will constantly hear the oddly varying cries of these house-to-house merchants, the flute-like whistles which some of them carry, and the clapping of sticks by others or the strangely penetrating noise of the scissors-grinder, which is made by touching a piece of metal to the grindstone.

From the standpoint of comfort the great and imposing Avenida Central is a failure. The sun beats down unmercifully during the hot days, and it is not half so comfortable as streets like the Ouvidor, Gonçalves Diaz, Quintana and others of the business streets which are so narrow that they are shaded from curb to curb during most of the day, and the sun does not really have a fair chance to get in its work. It is, however, the centre of the street life, and at all times is a study of Brazilian life. There is always a crowd of men in the many cafés, which line this street on either side, and the tables of which are set out over half the broad sidewalk, or more. After eating his noon breakfast, a man never takes his coffee at the same restaurant, but always goes to one of the cafés where he sips a small cup of strong, black coffee, smokes a few cigarettes and gossips with his friends. The Brazilians drink coffee as the German drinks beer—not in such great quantities, but fully as often. In fact they drink so much that it must have got into their complexions. A Brazilian proverb says that good coffee must be as “strong as Satan, as black as ink, as hot as hades and as sweet as love.” It is certainly black and strong, is served hot and enough sugar is used to make it very sweet.

One is struck with the vivacity of the groups of men, who talk with their hands, head, face and eyes, as well as with their mouths. Another thing that impressed me was the uncomfortable style of dress, for the average “flumenense” wears a rather heavy suit and derby hat in this hot climate, and would never think of dispensing with his vest under any circumstances. To make up for this one may often see the men carrying fans and briskly fanning themselves. Where these young men, who are clerks in business houses, or hold small-salaried government positions, get the money to spend in these cafés is a mystery to me; for all drinks are exceedingly high-priced, with the exception of coffee, which is uniformly sold for one hundred reis, equal to three cents in our money. In the matter of clothes, however, they are more economical, and they do not dress as well as the ladies whom they delight to watch.