expense in procuring them.

The Indians who reside in Lima endeavour to imitate the Spanish Creoles
in dress and manners. They are chiefly engaged in making gold and
silver lace, and other delicate gold work; while some are tailors and
vendors of fruit, flowers, and vegetables.

The African Negroes are numerous, and, though slaves, are well treated
by their masters. Those of the same tribe or nation find each other
out, and form a sort of club or association, called a _Confradia_. They
generally hold their meetings in the suburbs on a Sunday afternoon. At
the time I speak of, there was an old slave-woman who had lived in a
family for nearly fifty years, and who was the acknowledged queen of the
Mandingoes. She was called Mama Rosa; and I remember seeing her seated
at the porch of her master's house, when a number of her black subjects
who were passing knelt before her, and kissing her hand in a true loyal
fashion, asked her blessing. Her mistress had given her a silver
sceptre, and the young ladies of the family would lend her jewels,
artificial flowers, and other ornaments; bedecked in which, on certain
days, she would be carried off by her subjects in great state, her
sceptre borne before her, to the house of the Confradia, where a throne
was prepared to receive her. Here she held a regular court, when as
much respect was shown her as to any sovereign in Europe. I shall have
to speak of her again.

The next morning at an early hour Ithulpo called me, and accompanied me
through the city. On my return I took an opportunity of telling my
father what I had heard. He treated the subject lightly, observing that
the Indians were very fanciful; at the same time, that he was anxious to
return home as soon as he could arrange the affairs for which he had
visited Lima. However I observed the following day, either from some
information he had received, or from something Ithulpo had said to him,
that he had begun to think more seriously of the matter, and he desired
me to make preparations for our departure.

While strolling out in the afternoon, I happened to pass the abode of
Mama Rosa, the black queen of the Mandingoes. A large crowd of negroes
were assembled before the door, decked in all the finery they could
command. They wore garments of all fashions and of every gay-coloured
hue imaginable--the women with wreaths of flowers round their heads, and
necklaces of coral and beads on their necks and arms. There