i 82 
The TROPibm. At3t«t3!uiTumsr. 
[September t, 1890 
judging by the number of tramway lines seen, one 
would suppose this fear on their part no longer 
existed. The factory is a large building close to 
the railway, and is fitted with first-class French 
machinery and appliances, for the turning of the 
produce of the cane to sugar and rum. 
After Lorena we pass some stations with names 
quite as “jawbreaking” as the designation and 
title of some of your Sinhalese nobles. We have 
first “ Guaratingueta,” pronounced G-wara-tinge-tah. 
We pass the stations Apparecida, and Eozeira, 
suggesting the formerly devoted labours of the 
brotherhood of the Society of Jesus, and then we 
have Pindamonhangaba — pronounced Pinda-monyan- 
gah-ba. The name might be associated with the last 
two as having reference to the lower regions, 
but it is not so. It is an Indian name and 
looking at its termination has something to do 
with the name of a tree. The next station is 
Taubate : here there is a considerable town, and no 
fewer than two hotels close to the station, and as 
the down train passes about breakfast time, and 
the tip during the afternoon, passengers are notified 
in ornamental lettering on the walls, that they 
may enjoy a “square meal’ at reasonable rates, 
and the railway arrangements admit of those who 
are inclined to take breakfast or dinner.” We did 
not avail of the invitation so prominently offered 
to us to dine on paying, first because we did not 
wish to altogether destroy the enjoyment of what 
would be provided for us in the H6tel de France 
in Sau Paulo — now run by an old accquaintance, 
Guilherme Lebeis, a German by birth who was a 
particular friend of our lamented G. A. C., when 
he made his pleasure trip here in the seventies, and 
second we had been presented — handed into the 
carriage window — from the platform in Eio with 
a sandwich loaf by a friend who is a part- 
ner in the large confectionery and dinner supplying 
establishment of Pascoal in Rio. Now this is not the 
sandwich loaf you mean— made of the closegrained 
material the product of fermented flour and water 
only, but a loaf which had been made like a 
roly-poly, the dough had been rolled out and 
beautiful slices of legitimate copeland applied formed 
into a loaf and cooked or fried all m one piece 
in the oven. This was simply delicious, and it had 
been broken on several times before we reached 
Taubate. 
An English gentleman has a concession for some 
250 kilometres of railway line— on metre gauge 
and guarantee of 6 % on the capital — which is 
to connect this town with that of Ubatuba 
on the coast between Rio and Santos. Already 
the line has been surveyed, and he expects soon 
to raise a company to carry out the construction. 
Another has a concession for a line to go direct 
north from here into the Province of Minas Geraes. 
By this means the produce of a large tract of 
country which has to find a seaport by going a 
roundabout way to Rio or to Santos, and suffer 
knocking about and delay at each change of gauge, 
vdll be immensely benefited. 
Here also at Taubate are layers close to the 
surface of bituminous shale, from which, if properly 
worked, paraffin and lubricating oils could be ex- 
tracted. This has not altogether escaped the 
attention of some entcrprizing British and American 
gentlemens, and it to be hoped that after it has 
passed the experimental stage a large Company 
may be formed to develop this industry. 
V/e stop in passing at a large town called Ja 
carahy with a largo bridge in the middle of the 
town crossing the river Parahyba. The line con- 
tinues on the right bank of the river, but some 
]0 kilometres farther on near the station Guare- 
fcma we uross to the loft, and pasBiog through 
some heavy cuttings we enter on the watershed of 
the Tiete, which runs westward towards the tribu- 
taries of the River Plate. 
As I have already mentioned we have been 
running parallel with another valley of the Parahyba 
separated from us by a range of hills on our left 
to the south of us and north of the Serra do Mar. 
This valley has its commencement north-west of 
the range of mountains in which we pjassed through 
the 13 or 14 tunnels, which I have mentioned on 
the Dom Pedro Segundo line after leaving Eio. 
Its sides are formed on the south by that southerly 
extending barrier the Serra do Mar, and on the 
north the south side of the range of hills which 
jointly with the river have been our companions 
for some eight or nine hours. 
The head waters of the noble river are collected 
in this rugged valley. The river which they form 
runs north in a winding and rocky course, catch- 
ing up the dark waters of many a mountain stream, 
draining thousands of acres of black and im- 
penetrable looking virgin forests on the north side 
of the Serra do Mar, whose steep and rocky sides 
do not admit of cultivation of any kind ; then it 
takes a bend to the north, issuing through many 
ugly-looking gorges and near where we are, 
Guarerema takes its eastern and southerly windings 
along which we have been passing since we had 
breakfast at Barra do Pirahy. 
There are not many more stations to pass, soon 
the lamps are lighted in the carriages and Sao 
Paulo is reached about 7 p. m. The station is 
large, commodious and well lighted up with gas, 
from the supply furnished by an English company 
which has a concession for the lighting of the 
town, for a number of years. But the station is 
at an out-of-the-wsy corner of the town, and 
there are no good hotels near. The passengers 
who have no luggage rush to the tramway cars, 
and many of the knowing ones who have join 
them after giving their despatch note to some known 
porter. I and my companion are not so sharp, for 
by the time the parcels are all on the large table, 
and we notice all ours are in oneheap by themselves, 
the tram-cars have got filled up and are gone. 
The cabs here can take only small things, so we 
have to engage a porter whose number we note. 
Cabby knows H6tel de France well, and behind a 
pair of beautiful trotting mules we rush through 
well lighted streets past brilliantly illuminated 
shop fronts. The cab has scarcely time to stop 
when the door is pulled open, cur bundles are 
seized, and before we have time to collect our wits 
the retiring appropriators of them are disappearing 
up a large staircase ; but on our alighting in the 
porch a polite waiter informs us we are at the Hotel 
de France, that our rooms are ready, and that on 
our intimating dinner will be served. 
Guilherme Lebeis the present proprietor had not 
seen me for some eight or nine years, but he was 
prompt to recognise an old customer. He had been 
“mine host” for some years on pretty frequent 
occasions in the provincial town of Sao Joao do Eio 
Claro— generally known as Eio Olaro, — now an 
ornamented and flourishing town some 120 miles 
farther into the interior. The regular dinner hour 
had passed, and there were very few who had 
come here of our fellow-passengers ; the hotel owner 
was thus free to entertain us in conversation on 
“ the good old times,” on the changes which had 
taken place, the comings and the goings, and alas 
we had to mention the names of a good many who 
had gone to another place. Then railways had 
now spread themselves over the large elevated 
plateau which forms the Province of Sao Paulo. 
The number of coffee trees on a large plantation 
could oftecer at that time — 1873 to 1880— be re- 
