Our Little Brazilian Cousin
THE
Little Cousin Series
(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full page plates in tint.
Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover per volume, $1.00
LIST OF TITLES
By COL. F. A. POSTNIKOV, ISAAC TAYLOR HEADLAND, EDWARD C. BUTLER, AND
OTHERS
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
=Our Little Argentine Cousin=
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
=Our Little Austrian Cousin=
=Our Little Belgian Cousin=
=Our Little Bohemian Cousin=
=Our Little Boer Cousin=
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
=Our Little Bulgarian Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin of the Maritime Provinces=
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
=Our Little Cossack Cousin=
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Czecho-Slovac Cousin=
=Our Little Danish Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
=Our Little Egyptian Cousin=
=Our Little English Cousin=
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little Finnish Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Grecian Cousin=
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
=Our Little Hungarian Cousin=
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
=Our Little Malayan (Brown) Cousin=
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
=Our Little Persian Cousin=
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Polish Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Portuguese Cousin=
=Our Little Quebec Cousin=
=Our Little Roumanian Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
=Our Little Servian Cousin=
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
THE PAGE COMPANY
53 Beacon Street Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: "HE THREW HIMSELF DOWN UPON THE GRASS." (_See page 4_)]
Our Little Brazilian Cousin
By
Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
_Author of "Our Little Alaskan Cousin," "Our Little
Spanish Cousin," etc._
_Illustrated by_
Louis de Meserac
[Illustration]
Boston
THE PAGE COMPANY
Publishers
_Copyright, 1907_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Made in U.S.A.
First Impression, September, 1907
Second Impression, July, 1908
Third Impression, October, 1910
Fourth Impression, June, 1912
Fifth Impression, January, 1917
Sixth Impression, February, 1922
PRINTED BY C. H. SIMONDS COMPANY
BOSTON, MASS., U.S.A.
TO
MY LITTLE GOD-SON
John Aubrey Ball
INTRODUCTION
PROBABLY the most important of the South American republics, Brazil has
now won for herself world recognition and esteem. Though Costa Rica,
Cuba, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Panama made formal
declarations of war against the German Empire, Brazil alone was able to
offer material service. Each brave ally offered her all to the cause of
freedom, from the great navy and army, the brains, brawn, and resources
of the British Empire, to the little army of three hundred men from the
tiny principality of thirty-eight square miles, San Marino. Brazil's
offering was her splendid navy, which did signal patrol service and was
a valued reserve.
We can be certain that two great nations, large and small brothers of
the Western Hemisphere, the United States and Brazil, brought together
in the fellowship of such a great cause, will ever show their mutual
admiration, and keep bright their friendship.
Preface
OUR Little Brazilian Cousin lives in a land not so well known as the
countries of Europe and Asia, but one of great natural beauty and charm.
Through it flows the greatest river of the world, the Amazon, whose
banks are covered with rich tropical vegetation, most beautiful to
behold. Its forests are full of birds of brilliant plumage and strange
animals, while the Indians, who were once the only people here, are not
yet all civilized.
The Little Brazilian Cousins are nearly all descended from the
Portuguese who came to this land, and made it their own, before it
finally became a republic like the United States. They built many great
cities, and have cultivated the country so that now it is becoming
rich and powerful.
With such a beautiful home, and with such advantages, our Little
Brazilian Cousin will soon become one of the most important of all
the little cousins, as he is now one of the most picturesque and
interesting.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A QUIET SIESTA 1
II. IN THE FOREST 11
III. A TROPICAL STORM 20
IV. ALONG THE AMAZON 33
V. A VISIT TO GRANDMAMMA'S 44
VI. EN ROUTE TO RIO 52
VII. IN THE CAPITAL 66
VIII. A GALA DAY IN RIO 78
IX. THE COFFEE PLANTATION 91
X. A TREAT IN PROSPECT 101
XI. THE FALLS OF IGUAZU 111
XII. GUACHA 122
List of Illustrations
PAGE
"HE THREW HIMSELF DOWN UPON THE GRASS" (_See page 4_)
_Frontispiece_
"HE PLACED HIMSELF ON A RAFT AND WAS ROWED TO THE
MIDDLE OF THE GREAT RIVER" 27
"THIS HE KEPT UP UNTIL THE PADDLE HAD A THICK
COATING OF RUBBER" 38
"THE FAZENDA OF THE SENHOR DIAS STOOD UPON A HILL
OVERLOOKING THE AMAZON" 44
"THE CHILDREN SAW FOR THE FIRST TIME THE HARBOUR OF
RIO DE JANEIRO" 66
"'I MUST NOT BE SILLY AND CRY,' SHE SAID TO HERSELF" 116
Our Little Brazilian Cousin
CHAPTER I
A QUIET SIESTA
AFFONZO was tired of talking to the white cockatoo. It was the time of
day when his little sister Lola took her siesta, and he had no one to
play with. He was himself such a big boy, soon eleven years old, that
he felt no longer the need of the daily siesta, although in the warm
country of Brazil where he lived, even grown people like a nap in the
middle of the day.
Affonzo himself did not feel very lively. The sun beat down like a
great ball of fire and only the cool veranda or the shady garden
seemed enticing. The garden should have been pleasant enough to
satisfy any boy, for it was a vision of tropic beauty. Tall palms waved
their feathery branches heavenward, and gaily coloured flowers flaunted
their gorgeous petals while brilliant birds flittered hither and yon.
But Affonzo was used to all this beauty, and he wanted something new
to do, for this little Brazilian cousin was very like his American
ones and could not be quiet very long. Even the fruit garden seemed
tiresome. Generally he was glad to spend his time there, for the huge
banana trees which grew in a banana patch at the end of the house
were sure of several visits from him during the day. The plants were
twice as tall as he, and the fruit grew in great bunches, many of them
weighing fifty pounds, and Affonzo always chose the finest for himself
and Lola to eat. Besides these there were figs, pineapples, mangoes,
grapes and oranges all of which grow in Brazil.
The American watermelon also had been planted and the Senhor was
watching eagerly to see if it would bear fruit, for he had been told
that in other parts of Brazil it grew rapidly and bore well. Affonzo
was much interested in it too, for his cousin in the States had sent
the seeds and told him how delicious the fruit was.
He strolled toward the sunny slope where the vines were tended by
Joachim, the black who took care of the garden and helped about the
house. Joachim's mother had nursed Affonzo's mother in the days when
there were black slaves in Brazil, and he was devoted to the whole
family. He was just like a faithful black dog watching the place, and
was especially fond of the children. He could cook and bake, wait on
the Senhor, tend the garden or the horses, and could always be trusted
to take care of little Lola who was his great friend.
Affonzo looked at the green melon and wondered how it tasted. He had
heard so much about it that he was very curious and could hardly
wait until the day came when it should be served, for his mother had
promised that each should have a taste.
Above the melon vines grew one of the tallest of the banana trees, and
the fruit seemed to Affonzo to be finer at that particular time than
he had ever seen it. He was very hungry and felt he must have one of
those bananas at once. Ordinarily he would have climbed the tree like
a little monkey and helped himself, but his mother had excused him
from his siesta on condition that he be quiet, and though he looked
longingly at the fruit he did not start to climb. He threw himself down
upon the grass and looked up through the thick foliage at the blue
above.
"I wish something would happen," he said to himself. "It seems to me
that nothing ever happens. One half the year I must be in Para and stay
at my grandfather's to go to the Laure Sodré Institute--I am tired of
the very name!--and the other half I must stay here at the Fazenda
with no playmate but Lola, and she is made to sleep half the day. I
wish something would happen," and he sighed discontentedly. "How hungry
I am," he thought. "I must have one of those bananas, they never looked
so good! I believe mamma will not care if I climb for one, for she only
said I must keep quiet and I'm sure I'll make no noise." With that the
boy rose to his feet, and with a quick glance around, he began to climb
and was soon squirming around the trunk of the tree like a snake. Once
there he reached for the best bananas and filled the pockets of his
linen suit with them. He was just starting down when he heard voices
coming and peering cautiously down the garden path he saw his father
with an uncle of whom he was very fond, and whom he had not seen for
some time.
"Uncle Prudente," he thought. "I wonder when he came from Para and how
long he is going to stay. Oh, dear! how will I get down from here?"
Affonzo knew that his father would not be likely to pass over any
disobedience and that he would be punished if he came down at that
moment. So he crouched among the leaves and was still as a mouse while
the two gentlemen came directly under the banana tree and stopped to
talk.
"This is the American melon," said the Senhor. "It will be ripe in
another week. There are others ripening but this is the finest. If it
is good I shall keep all the seeds and have a large crop next year. If
Juan comes, I shall ask him to bring me the seeds of various kinds, for
there is nothing like variety in a garden. In our hot climate these
should do well and they are very agreeable when properly cooled. I
hope Juan will come; a long visit from him would be a good thing for
Affonzo, who is growing spoiled from being the only boy. He is wilful
and high-spirited but on the whole he is--what is that?"
The Senhor stopped suddenly and Affonzo never knew what he himself was,
besides being wilful and high spirited. Distressed at being a listener,
he had leaned too far out on the branch on which he sat and it broke
under his weight. He gave a wild clutch and fell down, down, down. He
thought he would never stop, and oh, horror! when he did light, it was
astride the shoulders of his uncle. Affonzo was a sturdy little fellow
and his uncle was slight and small, the result being that both went
down in a heap on top of the melon.
For a moment no one spoke; then his father pulled him off his uncle
and helped his irate brother to his feet. Uncle Prudente's white linen
suit was splashed from head to foot with watermelon juice, his panama
hat was crushed out of shape, watermelon juice ran down his face and
several black seeds stuck to his face. He was speechless with rage,
but he looked so very funny that Affonzo, sore and bruised by his
fall and terribly frightened, could not help laughing. He sat down
upon the ground and laughed till he cried, and the noise woke all the
parrots dozing in the trees, and all began jabbering at once, while the
cockatoo gave one of his terrible screeches.
When the noise had subsided a little, Senhor Dias said sternly to
Affonzo, "What is the meaning of this?" Affonzo was silent, but he
quickly sprang to his feet and stood respectfully in front of his
father, for Brazilian boys are taught to treat their elders with great
deference.
"What were you doing in that tree?" demanded his father.
"Eating bananas," said Affonzo simply.
"Does your mother permit that?" asked the Senhor, for in Brazil, as
in most South American countries, the mother arranges all matters in
regard to the children.
"My mother allows me to climb trees and eat bananas," said Affonzo.
"That was not a disobedience, but--"
"But what?" demanded his father.
"But," continued Affonzo slowly. "She had at the hour of the siesta
requested me to keep quiet."
"Do you call this quiet?" asked his father sternly though his eyes
twinkled. "Such a noise has not been heard at the Fazenda for many
days."
"Not very quiet," said Affonzo, his head drooping, though he could
scarce keep from laughing again. "I ask your pardon, my uncle," he
added. "I intended nothing of disrespect. I did but lose my hold
upon the tree and the next thing I knew I sat astride of your august
shoulders. I pray you pardon me." Affonzo's tone was contrite, and his
dancing eyes were on the ground.
"Say no more of it," said his uncle, as he laid his hand on the boy's
head. "Boys will be boys and Affonzo is not unlike others. But next
time I come do not receive me with such a fierce embrace. Indeed I
thought my neck was broken with the warmth of your welcome."
Affonzo's laugh rang out gaily, but he sobered down when his father
said, "I excuse you since your uncle asks it, but remember after
this that the commands of your mother are to be obeyed. Go now with
your uncle and attend to his wants while he repairs the damage your
carelessness has wrought."
Affonzo bowed to his father and made the military salute as all school
boys are taught to do in Brazil, but he sighed to himself as he went,
"I wonder what he meant about Juan but I am afraid to ask. And the
worst of it all is, that now I shall never know how the American melon
tasted."