84 
WANDERINGS IN 
second whitewashed, and others stained, and mouldy, and 
•TOURNEY. i i i i ~i i i 
-neglected, as though they had no owner. 
The balconies, too, are of a dark and gloomy ap¬ 
pearance. They are not, in general, open, as in 
most tropical cities, but grated like a farmer’s dairy 
window, though somewhat closer. 
There is a lamentable want of cleanliness in the 
streets. The impurities from the houses, and the 
accumulation of litter from the beasts of burden, are 
unpleasant sights to the passing stranger. He 
laments the want of a police as he goes along ; and 
when the wind begins to blow, his nose and eyes are 
too often exposed to a cloud of very unsavoury dust. 
Port of When you view the port of Pernambuco, full of 
buco. ships of all nations, when you know that the richest 
commodities of Europe, Africa, and Asia, are brought 
to it; when you see immense quantities of cotton, 
dye-wood, and the choicest fruits pouring into the 
town, you are apt to wonder at the little attention 
these people pay to the common comforts which one 
always expects to find in a large and opulent city. 
However, if the inhabitants are satisfied, there is 
nothing more to be said. Should they ever be con¬ 
vinced that inconveniences exist, and that nuisances 
are too frequent, the remedy is in their own hands. 
At present, certainly, they seem perfectly regardless 
of them; and the Captain-General of Pernambuco 
walks through the streets w r ith as apparent content 
and composure, as an English statesman would pro¬ 
ceed down Charing-cross. Custom reconciles every 
thing. In a week or two the stranger himself 
