three principal streams flowing through the town, the Rio Quitandinha, Corrego Secco (dry stream), and Rio Piabanha; the two former flow in opposite directions down the main street, Rua do Imperador, joining at the Praça (square) Dom Pedro II., the combined waters thence going off at right angles along the Rua da Imperatriz, past the Imperial palace, which is in the midst of beautiful gardens. After flowing some distance through various streets, they join the Piabanha, which, at some leagues' distance, empties itself into the Parahyba do Sul, on the borders of the Province of Minas Geraes.

The railway station is at the north-east end of the Rua do Imperador, by the Corrego Secco. This street is exceedingly picturesque. The two streams, though flowing in opposite directions, form a straight line. They are sunk some feet below the level of the road, bounded by retaining walls, and crossed by numerous wooden bridges. On each side the stream are grass borders and trees, a broad road, a footway, and a row of good shops, painted with various colours and prettily ornamented. Five minutes' walk from the station-along the street in a south-westerly direction -brings the traveller to the Praça Dom Pedro II., where are two small but pretty public gardens, with numerous benches under the shade of the trees; another two minutes and we reach the Rua da Princeza Dona Januaria, wherein is my hotel.

From Petropolis starts the very important and excellent road of the União e Industria Co., which, beginning at the end of the Rua Westphalia (which I shall refer to later), at the southern extremity of the town, proceeds by way of Entre Rios to Juiz de Fora in Minas Geraes, with a total

length of 232 kilometres (145 miles).

After passing along

the banks of the Rio Piabanha, the road follows the magni

ficent valleys of the Parahyba and the Parahybúna (which I have previously mentioned) to its termination. A service of coaches runs every day between Petropolis and Entre Rios, under the direction of Mr. John M. Morritt; they travel over this road, on which are many toll-gates, the monthly receipts through tolls being about fifty contos of reis ($50,000), or £4200. Our two American friends have, within the last few days, made this trip, returning to Rio by the afternoon train from Entre Rios, and they declare that nothing can be more beautiful, or repay one better, than this most enjoyable drive.

Now, revenons à nos moutons, or, rather, to my walk. After breakfast I started on foot to pay a visit to the Cascatinho, a celebrated waterfall some four miles distant, having previously received directions as to the route. Fortunately, as it turned out, I missed my way, so had the pleasure of going by one route and returning by another. The way I went is evidently not much frequented, but is by far the more interesting and wilder of the two. After passing the palace, I continued straight up the Rua da Imperatriz to the end, when I should have turned to the left following the Quitandinha, which is a part of the waters that supply the cascade; however, I went to the right, and soon left all traces of civilized houses behind, and, crossing a small divide, entered a narrow gorge, called Gruta das Saudades (Grotto of Earnest Longings), which was most beautiful, densely wooded, with a few clearings and huts. Soon the ravine widened considerably, and I was vividly reminded of the side valleys of Les Ormonts and Champéry, off the Rhone Valley in Switzerland; further on, the scenery of Perthshire, or Pen-y-gwryd near Snowdon, was brought before me; only in these parts there are trees on the summits of the highest rocks. After

a time the road, which is the Antigo Caminho de Minas (old road to Minas), died out completely, and I had to cross a broad burn, the Rio Itamaraty, full of lichencovered boulders; and at length, by following this river, in an hour and three-quarters after leaving the hotel, I reached the great cotton factory, named Petropolitana, which is situated in a wild bare spot in a broad valley at the junction of the Itamaraty with the Piabanha, below the waterfall of the latter, and surrounded by mountains almost devoid of any vegetation except burnt-up grass. I visited the manager, but being unprovided with an introduction was not allowed to inspect the works; however, I saw something, as I had to pass through several shops to find the manager, and I also looked through an open door into a large room where were two or three hundred men and women attending to spinning machines. All the machinery is worked by the power derived from the Cascatinho, where the Piabanha-which after leaving Petropolis descends by a very easy gradient-suddenly dashes over some six hundred feet of rock, just above the cotton mill.

Leaving the mill, I ascended by a private road towards the main coach-road, and then examined the contrivance for making use of the river. The waterfall was represented -being now the dry season-by a thin thread trickling over the smooth face of rock, the main body of water being led away for about two or three hundred yards, and then sent down an almost vertical pipe, some two feet six inches diameter, to the turbines of the mill. I then gained the coach-road from Petropolis to Entre Rios, and a splendid road it is-broad, well made, well kept, with large heaps of broken granite at the roadside every few yards, after the most approved English Macadam system. Just after reaching the road I came to a stone marked “9 K.,” and

was rather surprised, not thinking I was as much as nine kilometres (five miles and a half) from Petropolis. Continuing to rise for about a kilometre, and passing some fine. rapids (Cascata do Retiro do Bulhões, i.e. Cascade of the Retreat of the Source), I came to a toll-bar. From this point the road appears level, and follows the Piabanha to Petropolis, winding between high rounded hills, whereon the forest is more or less cleared, and the land cultivated, with a few houses and gardens dotted about. At the "6 K." stone the houses become more numerous, and the first bore a label, on which was painted, "Rua Westphalia." I then passed a tablet inserted into the rock on the roadside, stating that this road was begun by the União e Industria Co., April 12, 1856, under the auspices of the Emperor, and in the presence of his Majesty and the Empress. Another few minutes' walk, and I was once more opposite the palace; so I am at a loss to understand to what locality the distances marked on the stones refer, nor could any one enlighten me. The return journey was very much shorter and easier than the outward, and occupied one hour and a quarter; so I arrived shortly after 2 p.m., and spent the remainder of the afternoon strolling about the town.

Petropolis is a German colony, and the streets are full of charming children, with plump rosy cheeks, flaxen hair, and blue eyes; while at every step you hear the language of the Fatherland, and the pretty faces are such a treat, after the sallow, thin, sickly looking white children that I have seen for the past year. I bought a neat little walkingstick, cut from a coffee-tree, and made by a certain Carlos Sprangenberg, as a memento of my trip.

As I came off here in such a hurry, I had no time, as I had wished, to obtain introductions to some of the resident

gentlemen, one of whom has a splendid collection of orchids, and another possesses a large number of butterflies. However, my long walk was nearly enough for one day, and as I could afford no more time, I must be satisfied with what little I have done. At least, I am delighted that I took the opportunity of the only day at my disposal to have a glimpse at this lovely Alpine village, which will long remain impressed on my memory as something very un-Brazilian like, owing to its German Protestant community and the absence of negroes.

July 24-I left Petropolis by the 7.30 a.m. train, Mr. Mills and his fair-haired young daughter accompanying me to the station, which gave me the opportunity of expressing my extreme satisfaction with my brief visit and his kind reception.

The morning was cool and cloudy, with much mist; so there was no clear view from the Grotto Fundo, the waters of the bay being undistinguishable from the strata of the clouds. From the bay itself only the top of the Sugar-loaf was visible at first, and as we neared Rio even that was concealed by the clouds. By 9.45 I was at the office, and employed the rest of the day in packing up.

I must conclude the account of my trip by a short description of the drive up the mountain to Petropolis before the days of the railway, in words, as is usual with the Brazilians, far more poetic than I can lay any claim to possessing the power of producing. "The ascent of the Serra da Estrella (Mountain of the Star) is of itself a most agreeable trip, whilst enjoying the purest breezes of the world. There is much to admire-waterfalls, cascades or rapids, grottos, enormous rocks, trees of a thousand exquisite shapes, and splendid panoramas over the bay are seen every moment-so that the traveller, soothed and