coming to a dead halt, and favoring
each other with a few slapping salutes with their heels; then off they
clattered once more, until about to double a sharp corner, when if they
did not bolt into the pulperia opposite, like a Habanese volante, the
conductor, with the most imperturbable dignity, would crack his leathern
whip, shout like a devil, and do his possible to run over a covey of
miserable lame blackies, who would start up in great bewilderment, like
boys catching trapball, without knowing precisely in which direction
would be safest to dodge the eccentric vehicle. I always cheered my
friend with reiterated marks of approbation, as I look with leniency
upon the peculiarities of mankind, and ever make a rule to respect the
absurdities of others. The Jehu whose accomplishments I have so faintly
portrayed, can be regarded at any hour of the day, on the road to Boto
Fogo, and he will be found quite as interesting an object of curiosity
as the Falls of Tejuco, to say nothing of the fatigue and expense of the
journey.

CHAPTER III.

Much of my time was passed with friends on the shores of the bay, a
short distance beyond Gloria Hill, and I was in a certain degree
relieved from the banging and roaring of cannon fired in compliment to
distinguished personages, who appear to select Rio as the place of all
others, where they may smell powder to their noses' content; to say
nothing of being immured on ship-board after nearly two months' passage.
Escaping these disagreeables, I had leisure to stretch my limbs on
shore, and enjoy the perfumes of flowers and fruit from the stems that
bore them.

It is in the direction of the beach, or, as the Portuguese have it,
Praya Flamingo, on the road to Il Cateto, and the charming and secluded
little bay of Boto Fogo, that most of the diplomatique corps, and
foreign merchants reside. The houses are rarely more than two stories in
height, a combination of Venetian and Italian orders of architecture,
with heavy projecting cornice, balconies and verandas, and washed with
light straw or bluish tints.

The saloons are always spacious and lofty, with prettily papered walls,
and floors of the beautiful, dark polished wood of the country. Nearly
all those residences are surrounded by extensive gardens, blooming in
bright and brilliant foliage, only matured beneath the burning rays of a
vertical sun. There are no springs in Rio, and the grounds are irrigated
by miniature aqueducts,