ry of port is a somewhat curious one. It is associated closely
with the old English gentleman of a bygone generation, a staunch and
bigoted being who despised French wines as he abhorred the French
nation, and agreed with Doctor Johnson that claret was for boys, port
for men. The vintage of 1820 was a remarkable one in Portugal. The port
made in that season was of a peculiar strength and sweetness, in color
nearly black. The old English gentleman would acknowledge no other as
genuine, and, as Nature positively refused to repeat the experiment, the
practice of dyeing port with dried elderberries and increasing the
infusion of brandy to impart strength and flavor was resorted to. It was
successful for some time, but after a while the secret oozed out, and
the public began to receive the garnet-hued liquid again into favor, and
to find, with Douglas Jerrold, that it preferred the old port to the
_elder_. The elderberry is not sufficiently common in Portugal to make
the continuation of this process popular with wine-makers. At present
port is tolerably free from adulteration, though its casks and those of
an inferior red wine of Spain after voyaging to England sometimes find
their contents a little mixed.

Oporto is the seat of the wine-trade, and its huge warehouses are filled
with stores of port ripening to a good old age, when the garnet will be
exchanged for a dark umber tint. A handsome, thriving city is Oporto,
mounting in terraces up the slope of a steep hill. A fine quay runs the
length of the town along the Douro, and here the active life of Oporto
is mainly concentrated. Any stranger watching this stir of movement and
color will be struck by the prominent position which women fill in the
busy crowd. The men do not absorb all branches of labor. Besides the
water-carriers, market-women and fruit-vendors there may be seen
straight, stalwart lasses acting as portresses to convey loads to and
from the boats which are fastened to the river-wall. Many of the
servants and other laborers through Portugal come from Galicia, the
inhabitants of that Spanish province enjoying a reputation for honesty
and faithful service combined with stupidity.

[Illustration: QUAY AT OPORTO--THE QUEEN'S STAIRS.]

A sad contrast to the fertility of the Minho is presented by the
country opposite Lisbon and the adjoining province of Alemtejo. This
Portuguese _campagna_ was in Roman days a fertile plain covered with
golden wheat-fields. Now it