LETTERS FROM BRAZIL 89 
quets I had used to come and sit on my hand, and 
wanted to nibble my ring with their little sharp beaks. 
But I had to drive them away and say, “‘No, no, little 
Polly, Louis made me that, and I can’t have you break 
it.” So then they used to fly away and find something 
else to nibble. This interesting nursery tale is for him 
and not for you. 
TO MRS. THOMAS G. CARY 
Manaos, November 18 
I HAVE come to the conclusion that the Brazilians do 
not know either how to work or play. They have not 
that activity which makes life a restless force with 
us and gives it interest, neither have they that love 
of amusement that gives zest to the life of the Euro- 
peans. I have been several times to make calls here 
with the Barras, and so stately and solemn an occa- 
sion you cannot imagine, though they are perfectly 
familiar with the people we go to see. I feel as if they 
were all tongue-tied, and stumble about in my poor 
Portuguese simply because I feel the silence so oppres- 
sive that I must break it or get up and run out of the 
house. One of the habits here is to send word before- 
hand when you’re going to make a call; this is in order 
that the lady of the house may have time to put up 
her hair and to put on her gown, which she never does, 
so far as I can find out except when company comes. If 
I could only command Portuguese enough, I think I 
should call all these unconscious sufferers together 
and tell them what benighted, colorless, crippled lives 
