THE COFFEE PLANTATION
THE Senhor Lopez' business was to export coffee, as that of his
brother-in-law was to export rubber. He had a large coffee _fazenda_ in
Sao Paulo, the province of Brazil most devoted to coffee raising, and
he often went there to inspect the plantation. He suggested therefore
that his wife, his sister, and the children should spend a week with
him at the _fazenda_, and the two mothers decided to do so, knowing how
much pleasure it would give the little folk. It was an all day's ride
to Sao Paulo, but there was so much to see as the train moved over the
plains, across rivers and through forests and hills, that the children
did not find it tiresome, and were very bright and gay as, just at
sunset, they neared Sao Paulo.
"This is one of the finest cities of Brazil," said their uncle. "Ten
years ago it was not a large place but now it has three hundred
thousand people, many beautiful buildings, electric lights and trolley
cars. It has also some very good schools and colleges, and students
come here from all parts of the country. Perhaps Affonzo will go to
college here some day."
"It seems a good ways from home," said the boy. "But uncle," he added,
as they passed a crowd of queer looking people in the station, "what a
lot of foreigners there are here!"
"Yes, more than in any other Brazilian city. A number of Italians
work in the mills and on the farms, and the Germans are on the coffee
plantations.
"To-night we will rest, and to-morrow morning we will see Sao Paulo,
and in the afternoon go to the _fazenda_," said the Senhor, as they
reached the hotel.
The next day they had a pleasant drive through the city and saw many
interesting things.
"Mackenzie College is one of the best seats of learning in Brazil,"
said the uncle. "It is on the plan of the North American colleges, with
kindergarten, primary grades and grammar school. There is also a normal
school and a manual training shop."
"You see, you have to copy us," said Maria with a laugh. "All the
schools in the States are good. You ought to live there."
Martim made a wry face.
"Maybe they are," he said, "but I don't believe I'd care to live in the
States just on account of the schools when I can live here, and have a
school just as good."
"Children!" said Martim's mother, but his father hastily interposed,
"Mackenzie College is named for Mr. John G. Mackenzie, of New York
City, who gave a large sum of money to build it. But here we are at
the Garden of Light. Now you may get out of the carriage and rest
yourselves by running about these magnificent alleys of trees, seeing
the lakes and fountains."
"Maria and Martim do not get along as well as the little girl and
Affonzo," he said to his wife, as soon as the children were out of
sight.
"It doesn't matter," she said serenely. "It does not hurt either of
them to argue if it doesn't go too far. Children are far better for not
being noticed. Affonzo gets along better with his cousin because he has
Lola to quarrel with; Martim grows selfish from being too much alone."
She sighed and her husband's face clouded as he thought of the children
they had lost.
"We will keep Maria with us if the father is willing, as long as she is
in Brazil."
"Better still, let both Maria and Martim return home with us," said
the Senhora Dias. "Then all four young folk will learn to accommodate
themselves to each other."
"That is an excellent plan, and it is kind in you to suggest it," said
the Senhora Lopez, and her husband added,
"We shall try to arrange it that way."
"Come, children," he called a few minutes later. "We must return for
lunch now as we drive to the _fazenda_ afterwards. Do you know what we
old folk have been planning?"
"No, papa, what is it?" asked Martim.
"Something pleasant, I am sure," said Lola. "For you are the dearest
uncle in the world."
"Thank you, little flatterer," he pinched her cheek playfully. "It is
that you four cousins are all to return to Para for the winter."
"Oh, delightful," cried Lola.
"How nice!" Maria said, and the boys seemed equally pleased.
The afternoon air was clear and bracing, and the children were in high
spirits as the party drove to the _fazenda_.
The road wound through a beautiful country, past vineyards, and tea
and coffee plantations, for Sao Paulo is one of the most productive
provinces of Brazil. As they passed row after row of small trees Lola
said,
"What pretty, glossy leaves those trees have!"
"Those are coffee trees," said Martim. "They grow about twelve feet
tall."
"But where are the brown berries," asked Maria. "Are they all picked?"
Martim laughed.
"It's easy to see that you've never seen coffee growing," he said. "Did
you think you could go and pick the browned berries and stew a pot of
coffee?"
"No," said Maria demurely, "because we don't 'stew' coffee where I
live."
Everybody laughed at this passage-at-arms between the two children, and
Senhor Lopez said,
"We are beginning to see trees belonging to our plantation now. It is
three miles square and we have just reached the edge of the land. The
house is still three miles away."
"How does the coffee grow, Uncle Hilario?" asked Maria.
"Do you see the cluster of green pods on the trees, my dear? Well,
seeds are within the pods, and when they are ripened must be dried,
roasted and ground before they are ready for your coffee-pot. Later
in the season the fruit turns bright red in colour, and makes a vivid
contrast to the foliage of the trees, which is green the year around."
"Are the trees planted, or do they grow wild like our rubber trees?"
asked Affonzo.
"They are planted in rows and sometimes grow as high as twenty-five
feet. Usually they are between ten and fifteen feet high when they
first bear fruit," said the Senhor. "It takes from three to five years
for them to bear."
"When is the harvest time?" asked Maria.
"We have two crops so there are two harvests, one in February and one
in August. Sometimes you see fruit and flowers on the same tree at
the same time. The blossoms grow in little white bunches and are very
fragrant."
"I should think it would take a lot of people to pick all this coffee,"
said Affonzo.
"It does. If you were to be here next February you would see hundreds
of negroes and Italians, men, women, and children, busy up and down
these long rows. Many of them live in those little houses," he said,
pointing to a street lined with small wooden huts crowded close
together. About the houses were scores of small, dark-skinned children
at play.
"At the present time," said the Senhor, "the men and women are at work
in the sheds and ware-houses making the coffee ready for market. We
shall ship thousands of pounds next month. To-morrow I will take you
about and show you what we have to do. I wish you might have been here
during the harvest season. It is very interesting to watch the pickers
with the huge baskets strapped to their shoulders. There is great
rivalry among them to see who can be the fastest picker on the place."
Before they reached the _fazenda_ their carriage passed through two
gates which closed after them with a spring, and the Senhor said,
"The _fazenda_ factory is always enclosed by one and sometimes two
fences, for the cattle graze loose with only a pickaninny or the
_madrinla_[13] to watch them."
"It looks like a fortress," said Maria.
"Yes, and some _fazendas_ are called 'fortaleza' for that very reason,"
said her uncle.
"It is really very much like the old fortresses of feudal times,
within the walls of which went on all manner of things. Inside the
_fazenda_ palisades there are the houses of the labourers, apothecary's
shop, hospital, ware-houses, and _terrerios_,[14] besides the house of
the owner."
"Why are there so few trees?" asked Lola.
"Nearly all the trees are cut down to make pasture lands and only a
few shade trees are left, such as those fine palms. Here we are at the
house. When you are rested I will take you about and show you how the
coffee is made ready for market."
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 13: The bell cow.]
[Footnote 14: Drying fields.]