In the Plaza Constitution, which is a very grand and spacious park in the heart of the city, there is an elaborate and costly statue of the father of the late emperor, of heroic size. The pedestal is surrounded by four bronze groups, representing typical scenes of early Indian life in this country. The Paseo Publico is also a garden-like spot, extending three or four hundred feet along the bay. This is a cool and favorite resort of the populace. On the corners of the principal streets and squares there are little octagonal structures called kiosks, gayly painted, where hot coffee, lottery tickets, and bonbons are sold, as well as newspapers and flowers. Here, as in Havana, the city of Mexico, Naples, and many European cities, the lottery proves to be a terrible curse to the common people, draining their pockets and diverting them from all ideas of steady-going business. It is customary also for the regularly organized business establishments to patronize the lottery with never-failing regularity, charging a certain monthly sum to expense account, but the money is nevertheless paid out for lottery tickets. The bad moral effect of this upon clerks and all concerned is very obvious. When by chance any prize, be it never so small, is awarded, a great flurry is made of the fact, and advertisements emphasize it, thus to incite fresh investments in this organized public swindle. Tickets are sold by boys and girls, men and women, and half the talk of the thoughtless multitude is about the lottery, how to hit upon lucky numbers, and so on.

It is a mistaken though popular idea that our New England consumptives have only to seek some tropical locality to alleviate their special trouble. Rio seems to be particularly fatal to persons suffering from pulmonary troubles. The same may be said of many other tropical regions. When consumption is developed in the Bahamas, Cuba, or the Sandwich Islands, for instance, it runs its fatal course with a speed never realized in the Northern States of America. Physicians do not send patients to foreign localities so indiscriminately as they used to. Almost every sort of climate is to be found within the borders of the United States, where also civilized comforts are more universally to be obtained than abroad. Besides which, an invalid does not have to brave seasickness and other ocean hardships, if sent to some eligible locality within our own borders.

Though Brazil has long been, and is still, famous for its production of diamonds, precious stones, and gold, yet these are as nothing when compared with her exports of sugar, coffee, and hides, not taking into account her product of rice, cocoa, tobacco, dyewoods, and other important staples. A large portion of the abnormal growth of her forests is valuable for its timber, resins, fibre, and fruits. It is naturally a very rich country, with a world of wealth in its soil, but miserable financial mismanagement has caused the national treasury to become utterly bankrupt, and at this writing mercantile credit is an unknown quantity, so to speak. The natural resources of the country are unlimited; therefore it must be only a question of time when a healthy reaction shall set in, and a period of sound prosperity follow.

It should be remembered in this connection that the immediate country of which we are speaking, that is, Brazil as a whole, is as large as the United States, leaving out the territory of Alaska.

CHAPTER IX.

Outdoor Scenes in Rio Janeiro.—The Little Marmoset.—The Fish Market.—Secluded Women.—The Romish Church.—Botanical Garden.—Various Species of Trees.—Grand Avenue of Royal Palms.—About Humming-Birds.—Climate of Rio.—Surrounded by Yellow Fever.—The Country Inland.—Begging on the Streets.—Flowers.—"Portuguese Joe."—Social Distinctions.

It would require many pages to properly describe Rio Janeiro with its curious phases of street life, its manners and customs, its local peculiarities, and moving panorama of events, all combining to make up a unique personality. These out-of-door scenes go far to tell the true story of any special locality. The fruit and vegetable market, near Palace Square, is a highly attractive place to visit at early morning. The negro women venders, always stout and portly creatures, with heads turbaned in many-colored bandannas, are eloquent in recommending their articles for sale, and are also very shrewd at a bargain. It is not uncommon for these middle-aged negresses to stand six feet high, without shoes or stockings, and to turn the scales at double the average weight of men of the same color and class. These women were all slaves in their girlhood. As regards prices charged for provisions, fruits, and vegetables, in the markets of Rio, they seemed to the author rather exorbitant, but doubtless permanent residents do not pay such sums as are charged to strangers for the same articles. We were heartily laughed at by a housekeeper on stating the cost of a small basket of choice fruit which we had purchased, being told that we had paid four times its market value. However, it was well worth the price to us, who had just arrived from an ocean voyage of five thousand miles and more. On shipboard fruit is necessarily a scarce article, and it was certainly worth something extra to be introduced for the first time to the luscious products of this region.

The abundance and variety of flowers, as well as their cheapness and fragrance, make them a desirable morning purchase, with all their dewy freshness upon them. Oranges, limes, pineapples, lemons, alligator-pears, cocoanuts, grapes, mangoes, with an infinite variety of other fruits, make up the stock in trade, together with squealing pigs, live turkeys, and noisy guinea-fowls. Here also are various gaudy feathered songsters, in cheap, home-made cages, besides monkeys, marmosets, and other household pets. The macaws, chained by the leg, and the screaming parrots vie with each other and with the monkeys in the amount of noise they make. Wicker baskets filled with live ducks, geese, and fowls are borne on the heads of native women, who have brought them many a long weary mile from far inland, hoping to make a few pennies by their sale. The chatter of the women, the cries of men and animals, an occasional quarrel between two noisy Italians, ending in furious vociferations and gesticulations, all add to the Babel of sound. One little marmoset put his hand into that of the author, looking so appealingly into his face that, imagining the little fellow might be hungry, some nice edibles, calculated to rejoice the monkey heart, were promptly purchased and gratefully received by the marmoset, which, in his eager haste to consume the same, stuffed the sides of either jaw to alarming proportions. The little creature was wonderfully human, and having found a kindly disposed stranger, insisted upon keeping one of his tiny hands in our own, while he rapidly filled his mouth with the other.

It is interesting to observe the artistic manner in which the native women, Indians and blacks, mingle and arrange the various fruits and vegetables, showing a natural instinct for the harmonious blending of colors and forms. A pile of yellow oranges, green limes, and mangoes had a base of buff-colored bananas picturesquely arranged with all the pointed ends of the finger-like fruit outward, while a luscious ripe pineapple formed the apex of the pile, set off jauntily by its cactus-like, prickly leaves. On the borders of the market and along the iron railing of Palace Square, black-haired, bareheaded Italian women displayed cheap jewelry, imitation shell, gilded combs, and other fancy trinkets for sale, embracing priestly knick-knacks, ivory crosses, crucifixion scenes, coral beads, high-colored ribbons, and gaudy kerchiefs. The bronzed faces of these black-eyed, gypsy-like women were very cadaverous, as though the land of their adoption did not particularly agree with them. It seems hardly possible that these peddlers could gain a livelihood trading in these tawdry and utterly useless articles among such a humble, impecunious class of customers as frequent the market, and yet their numerous wide-open, shallow tin boxes showed a considerable stock of goods.