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less grand than the Parahybúna, but a dozen picturesque and lovely views meet the eye at every curve in the road. The hours occupied in passing through these two valleys are the most enjoyable of the whole journey. The view, at sunset, just before the last great zigzag—when we are rapidly descending from the mountains to the plain, and see our track a thousand feet below in some places-was even finer than the last time I went down; then the darkness soon hid everything from our sight. At length the lights of the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro are seen, and at 7.12, after over fourteen hours of the train, we reach the station, are met by our chief and a friend, and presently whisked off to Carson's Hotel.

CHAPTER IX.

OUR LIFE AT RIO DE JANEIRO.

Carson's Hotel.

May 30, 1884.-This hotel is so full that, to avoid being at the top of the house, I have taken possession of the only garden room which is unoccupied. This annexe consists of a row of a dozen rooms running back from the hotel at right angles and at the side of the garden. In front of them is a verandah, which keeps off both heat and rain— and I much prefer these rooms to those in the hotel, for they are so quiet—and, opening on to the garden, the eye rests on a large well-kept green plot formed of a kind of knot-grass (spergula), which here takes the place of turf. This plot is surrounded by lofty palms, while the garden is replete with fan and other palms, cycads, orchids, plantains, dracæna, crotons, and other richly variegated plants. Beyond these is a regular English kitchen garden, and behind all rises the lofty hill Morro da Nova Cintra (813 ft.), dotted half-way up with houses.

Before breakfast I walked down a fine street opposite the hotel to the embankment, or Praia do Flamengo, which skirts the bay. On one side of the broad road is a low wall washed by the water; on the other, a row of lofty houses, gay, picturesque, and bright-as are all the newer

houses in Rio-with artistic stucco ornament and bas reliefs picked out with endless tints of blue, red, yellow, and green. This embankment extends over half a mile, and is bounded on the left by the Morro da Gloria, on the right by the Morro da Viuva, beyond which latter is the entrance to the Bay of Botafogo. It is these rounded "morros," or hills, covered with houses and a church or two, which, rising from the level ground and jutting out into the bay, form one of the most picturesque features in the city of Rio de Janeiro.

The view was quite Turneresque. Overhead, a cloudless sky and warm sun, while over the bay hung a mist, through which the town and hills of Nichteroy were just visible, though in some parts more distinct than in others; and on our side of the bay, the summit of the Sugar-loaf rose high above the mist that surrounded its base, and stood out in grand relief against the blue sky.

After breakfast we went into the town on business, and in the afternoon, having had two boarding-houses recommended to us, we took the tramcar to Botafogo and inspected one of them, from thence walking to Larangeiras to see the other.

The house at Larangeiras appeared much more shut in than that at Botafogo, so the next morning Mr. Large and I, with another member of our staff, walked up to Botafogo, and engaged rooms in the first house we had seen. We then strolled back by the hospital (Misericordia), which is a very imposing building, with a large circular white dome that is quite a landmark. This hospital, with the schools of health, anatomy, and various other buildings, form a really fine group, worthy of the capital of Brazil. Walking thence to the ferry, we went across the bay to Nichteroy. This town appears to stand in somewhat the same relation

ship to Rio de Janeiro * that Birkenhead does to Liverpool, and is equally dead. The heat there, though nearly midwinter, felt very much more excessive than at Rio; but I am told that, as a rule, this is not so. After rambling about Nichteroy, we came to Porto da Areia, one of the three. pretty bays that are grouped close together on that side. Here there is a shipbuilding and repairing yard, but our attention was especially drawn to a skiff in the bay, anchored a little way off from the shore, the only inmates of which appeared to be a large monkey chained to the stern, who perpetually moved to and fro, as if fretting at his confinement, and three small monkeys, which were scampering up the rigging and over the decks, and anon running along the jibboom, enjoying themselves in the grilling sunshine. We had some slight refreshment at a small cabaret, where the fruit and Rio beer were alike good and cheap.

The view of the town of Rio from Nichteroy, where we sat awaiting our return ferry-boat, was very lovely: the Corcovado and fantastic outline of the mountain chain formed the background; below lay the town with its many hills; then the Sugar-loaf beyond which rolled the Atlantic, the ports, islands, a multitude of shipping, and a wide belt of the deep blue bay; while in the foreground, on each side of us, were the house-clad crescent arms of this small bay ;the whole forming a beautiful picture, under an almost

*The capital is generally known by the name of Rio de Janeiro, but its real name is São Sebastião do Rio de Janeiro. The discoverers entered the bay in the month of January, and, before exploring it, deemed it to be the mouth of a river, which they named Rio de Janeiro (January), and on building the town called it after St. Sebastian. Of course, the bay is a bay and nothing else, though of such a vast extent that it is large enough to hold all the fleets of the world. It contains some three hundred islands, one of them, the Ilha do Governador, about twenty-four miles long.

painfully clear sky, which once seen must long remain imprinted in the mind's eye.

Rua Farani 12, Botafogo.

June 2.-We moved up here to-day, and I am really delighted with the house. It is at the end of a street, some three hundred yards long, placed at right angles to the Bay of Botafogo,* and is on the side of a hill, Morro da Boa Vista (485 feet), one of the ridges of the Corcovado. This house used to be an hotel,† is of one story, and approached from the street by three flights of steps. There are two terraces on each side of the building, with gardens and fountains on each terrace, orange trees and kitchen gardens. on the lower, huge palm trees and exotic shrubs and flowers on the higher, which is on the same level as the house. On the latter are also grottos and seats of the true Pompeian fashion; while above them and behind the house rises the hill, covered with glorious virgin forest, wherein pretty marmosets play about, and the garden is always full of lovely butterflies, some of which (Ageronia Feronia) have a marvellous protective colouring, which one would not dream of until one sees them raising and flattening their wings in the sunshine on the huge lichencovered trunks of the grand palm trees. In front of the house are two immense mango trees, their branches one mass of lichens, especially one hanging species (Ramalina implecta), sometimes two or three feet long, of a green-grey colour. It is a curious fact that though the mango trees are so plentiful and of an excessively large growth in Rio de Janeiro, they produce very little fruit.

The word means "thrown into the fire," and alludes to the fearful autos da fé, when the poor natives, on refusing to be converted to the Roman Catholic religion, were committed by the priests to the flames.

+ It is now (January, 1886) once more an hotel.

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