o the north, produce wheat; but in the high lands of St.
Paul's, and the Minas Geraes, and in the southern provinces, a good deal
is cultivated, and with great success. The great article of food here is
the mandioc meal, or farinha; it is made into thin broad cakes as a
delicacy, but the usual mode of eating it is dry: when at the tables of
the rich, it is used with every dish of which they eat, as we take
bread; with the poor, it has every form--porridge, brose, bread; and no
meal is complete without it: next to mandioc, the feijoam or dry
kidney-bean, dressed in every possible way, but most frequently stewed
with a small bit of pork, garlic, salt, and pimento, is the favourite
food; and for dainties, from the noble to the slave, sweetmeats of every
description, from the most delicate preserves and candies to the
coarsest preparations of treacle, are swallowed wholesale.

[Note 78: This was no longer the case at my second visit to Rio, and
every thing eatable was much improved.]

We have hired a horse for our invalid, and I have borrowed one for
myself. These animals are rather pretty at Rio, but far from strong;
they are fed on maize and capim, or Guinea grass, which was introduced
of late years into Brazil, and thrives prodigiously: it is cultivated by
planting the joints; the stem and leaves are as large as those of
barley; it grows sometimes to the height of six or seven feet, and the
flower is a large loose pannicle. The quantity necessary for each horse
per day costs about eightpence, and his maize as much more. The common
horses here sell for from twenty to one hundred dollars; the fine Buenos
Ayres horses fetch a much higher price. Mules are generally used for
carriages, being much hardier, and more capable of bearing the summer
heat.

_December 19th_.--I walked by the side of Langford's horse up one of the
little valleys at the foot of the Corcorado: it is called the
Laranjeiros, from the numerous orange trees which grow on each side of
the little stream that beautifies and fertilises it. Just at the
entrance to that valley, a little green plain stretches itself on either
hand, through which the rivulet runs over its stony bed, and affords a
tempting spot to groups of washerwomen of all hues, though the greater
number are black; and they add not a little to the picturesque effect of
the scene: they generally wear a red or white handkerchief round the
head; and a full-plaited mantle tied over one shoulder, an