ndreds of
thousands of miles in this way."

"And," said Minha, "you do not repent having taken passage with us? Does
it not seem to you as if we were afloat on an island drifted quietly
away from the bed of the river with its prairies and its trees?
Only----"

"Only?" repeated the padre.

"Only we have made the island with our own hands; it belongs to us, and
I prefer it to all the islands of the Amazon. I have a right to be proud
of it."

"Yes, my daughter; and I absolve you from your pride. Besides, I am not
allowed to scold you in the presence of Manoel!"

"But, on the other hand," replied she, gayly, "you should teach Manoel
to scold me when I deserve it. He is a great deal too indulgent to my
little self."

"Well, then, dear Minha," said Manoel, "I shall profit by that
permission to remind you----"

"Of what?"

"That you were very busy in the library at the fazenda, and that you
promised to make me very learned about everything connected with the
Upper Amazon. We know very little about it in Para, and here we have
been passing several islands and you have not even told me their names!"

"What is the good of that?" said she.

"Yes; what is the good of it?" repeated Benito. "What can be the use of
remembering the hundreds of names in the 'Tupi' dialect with which these
islands are dressed out? It is enough to know them. The Americans
are much more practical with their Mississippi islands; they number
them----"

"As they number the avenues and streets of their towns," replied Manoel.
"Frankly, I don't care much for that numerical system; it conveys
nothing to the imagination--Sixty-fourth Island or Sixty-fifth Island,
any more than Sixth Street or Third Avenue. Don't you agree with me,
Minha?"

"Yes, Manoel; though I am of somewhat the same way of thinking as my
brother. But even if we do not know their names, the islands of our
great river are truly splendid! See how they rest under the shadows of
those gigantic palm-trees with their drooping leaves! And the girdle of
reeds which encircles them through which a pirogue can with difficulty
make its way! And the mangrove trees, whose fantastic roots buttress
them to the bank like the claws of some gigantic crab! Yes, the islands
are beautiful, but, beautiful as they are, they cannot equal the one we
have made our own!"

"My little Minha is enthusiastic to-day," said the padre.

"Ah, padre! I am so happy to see everybody happy around me!"

At this m