Our first
visit was to the little schoolchildren, thirty-four in number, who
sang very nicely. Then to the hospital, a clean, airy building, in
which there were happily but few patients, and next we inspected the
new machinery, worked by water-power, for cleaning the coffee and
preparing it for market. The harvest lasts from May to August. The
best quality of coffee is picked before it is quite ripe, crushed to
free it from the husk, and then dried in the sun, sometimes in heaps,
and sometimes raked out flat, in order to gain the full benefit of the
heat. It is afterwards gathered up into baskets and carefully picked
over, and this, being very light work, is generally performed by young
married women with babies. There were nineteen tiny piccaninnies, in
baskets, beside their mothers, in one room we entered, and in another
there were twenty just able to run about.

Cassava is an important article of food here, and it was interesting
to watch the various processes by which it is turned into flour,
tapioca, or starch. As it is largely exported, there seems no reason
why it should not be introduced into India, for the ease with which it
is cultivated and propagated, the extremes of temperature it will
bear, and the abundance of its crop, all tend to recommend it. We went
on to look at the maize being shelled, crushed, and ground into coarse
or fine flour, for cakes and bread, and the process of crushing the
sugar-cane, turning its juice into sugar and rum, and its refuse into
potash. All the food manufactured here is used on the estate; coffee
alone is exported. I felt thoroughly exhausted by the time we returned
to the house, only to exchange adieus and step into the carriage on
our way to Barra by rail _en route_ to Rio de Janeiro. After passing
through several long tunnels at the top of the Serra, the line drops
down to Palmeiras, after which the descent became very picturesque, as
we passed, by steep inclines, through virgin forests full of creepers,
ferns, flowers, and orchids. The sunset was magnificent, and the
subsequent coolness of the atmosphere most grateful. Leaving the
Emperor's palace of Sao Christovao behind, Rio was entered from a
fresh side. It seemed a long drive through the streets to the Hotel de
l'Europe, where, after an excellent though hurried dinner, we
contrived to be in time for a private representation at the Alcazar.
As a rule, ladies do not go to this theatre, but there were a good
many there