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SANTA ANNA. 
Vegetation seemed to riot in the utmost luxuriance of 
the tropics, the soil being exceedingly fertile. 
The fresh air and the richness of the scenery made 
our ride one of great enjoyment. Through every open- 
ing in the magnificent trees, we had on one side of the 
ridge or the other, some beautiful view. 
We arrived at length at Santa Anna, the object of 
our ride. It is a house which formerly belonged to 
Madame Ferreira’s father, who lived there without ever 
coming down to the town, and such is the purity of the 
air, that he preserved his health and his European — 
Portuguese — complexion. She was born here. The 
house and estate now belongs to her brother, who is 
an idiot, and it is to be sold to pay some alleged defi- 
ciencies in the father’s account. It was formerly the 
best on the island, but being of wood is fast going 
to decay. The church, which is a complete ruin, — the 
roof having fallen in, — was once apparently a very 
neat building. The images and ornaments of the 
high altar are removed to a little room, and placed 
on a table, opposite to the window with a lamp sus- 
pended over it, to serve for an altar. In this humble 
little chapel the priest officiates, while his congregation 
being very strict in their religious observances, assist 
at the mass, on the green outside. 
On one side of the house is a neat little village, 
inhabited by the slaves of the estate, who looked well 
and happy, — their labours being very light. 
