LIVING AT A VENDA. 25 



were loaded with parasitical plants, among which 

 the beauty and delicious fragrance of some of the 

 orchidea? were most to be admired. As the sun 

 rose, the day became extremely hot, and the reflec- 

 tion of the light and heat from the white sand was 

 very distressing. We dined at Mandetiba; the 

 thermometer in the shade being 84^. The beau- 

 tiful view of the distant wooded hills, reflected in 

 the perfectly calm water of an extensive lagoon, 

 quite refreshed us. As the venda* here was a 

 very good one, and I have the pleasant, but rare 

 remembrance, of an excellent dinner, I will be 

 grateful and presently describe it, as the type of 

 its class. These houses are often large, and are 

 built of thick upright posts, with bouglis interwo- 

 ven, and afterwards plastered. They seldom have 

 floors, and never glazed windows ; but are gener- 

 ally pretty well roofed. Universally the fi'ont part 

 is open, forming a kind of verandah, in which tables 

 and benches ai'e placed. The bed-rooms join on 

 each side, and here the passenger may sleep as 

 comfortably as he can, on a wooden platform, cov- 

 ered by a thin straw mat. The venda stands in a 

 courtyard, where the horses are fed. On first ar- 

 riving, it was our custom to unsaddle the horses 

 and give them their Indian com ; then, with a low 

 bow, to ask the senhor to do us the favour to give 

 us something to eat. "Anything you choose, sir," 

 was his usual answer. For the few first times, 

 vainly 1 thanked Providence for having guided us 

 to so good a man. The conversation proceeding, 

 the case universally became deplorable. " Any 

 fish can you do us the favour of giving ]" " Oh ! 

 no, sir." "Any soup]" "No, sir." "Any bread*?" 

 "Oh! no, sir !" " Any dried meat]" "Oh! no, 

 Bir." If we were lucky, by waiting a couple of 

 * V6nda, tlie Portuguese name for an inn. 



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