Brazilian Sketches | Page 7

shore of the bay. What a thing
of beauty this last-named park is! There is nothing comparable to it

anywhere. When Rio wishes to go on a grand "passeio" (promenade)
nothing but the grand Beiramar will suffice.
One cannot help being impressed also by the prevalence of coffee-
drinking stands and stores--especially if he meets many friends. These
friends will insist upon taking him into a coffee stand and engaging him
in conversation while they sip coffee. On many corners are little round
or octagonal pagoda-like structures in which coffee and cakes are sold.
The coffee-drinking places are everywhere and most of them are
usually filled. The practice of taking coffee with one's friends must
lessen materially the amount of strong drink consumed by the Brazilian.
Nevertheless, that amount of strong drink is, alas, altogether too great.
The greatest nuisance on the streets of Rio, or any other city of Brazil,
is the lottery ticket seller. These venders are more numerous and more
insistent than are the newsboys in the United States. There are all sorts
of superstitions about lotteries. Certain images in one's dreams at night
are said to correspond to certain lucky numbers. Dogs, cats, horses,
cows and many other animals have certain numbers corresponding to
them. For instance, if one should dream tonight about a dog, he would
try tomorrow to find a lottery ticket to correspond in number with a dog.
Say the dog number was thirty-seven. This man would try to find a
ticket whose number ends in thirty-seven. Such a ticket would be
considered lucky. The ticket sellers often call out as they pass along the
street the last two numbers on the tickets they have to sell, and if a man
hears the number called which corresponds to the animal he dreamed
about last night, he will consider it lucky and buy. There are also many
shops where only lottery tickets are sold. No evil has more tenaciously
and universally fastened upon the people than has the evil of gambling
in lotteries. There are 310 Federal lotteries, besides many others run by
the various States. These 310 lotteries receive in premiums the
enormous sum of $19,399,200 every month--about one dollar for every
individual in Brazil. A portion of the profits amassed by the lottery
companies is devoted to charity, a portion to Roman Catholic churches
and a portion goes to the government. Even after these amounts are
taken out, there is ample left for the enrichment of the companies'
coffers to the impoverishment of many very needy working people.
It is difficult to write temperately of Rio de Janeiro. There is such a rare
combination here of the primitive and the progressive, of the oriental

and occidental, that one is inclined to go off into exclamation points.
On the Avenida Central one sees numbers of street venders carrying all
kinds of wares on their heads and pulling all sorts of carts, making their
way in and out among the automobiles, and handsome victorias
PULLED BY MULES. We note also all types of people. The Latin
features predominate, but the negro is in evidence, the Indian features
are often recognized, and mingled with these are seen faces
representing all nations. One is impressed with the dress of the people.
Who is that handsomely- groomed, gentleman passing? From his fine
clothes you think he must be a man of wealth and influence. Who is he?
He is a barber. That one over there is a clerk. But why these fine
clothes? Ah! thereby hangs the tale. Appearance is worshiped. Parade
runs through everything, even in the prevailing religion, which, alas, is
little more than form--parade. Don't get the idea that everybody is
finely dressed and that every handsomely-dressed man is a barber.
Many are able to afford such clothes and are cultured gentlemen. One
notices most the dress of the lower classes, the most striking article of
which is the wooden-bottom sandals into which they thrust their toes
and go flapping along in imminent peril of losing the slippers every
moment. The remainder of the clothing worn by these beslippered
people consists often of only two thin garments. Certainly this is a
place of great contrasts. But somehow these contrasts do not impress
one as being incongruous. They are in perfect keeping with their
surroundings. Rio is really a cosmopolitan city and is a pleasant
blending of the old and the new.
There are several places from which splendid views of the city can be
had, but none of them is comparable to the panorama which stretches
out before one when he stands on the top of Mt. Corcovado. The scene
which greets one from this mountain is indescribable. The Bay of Rio
de Janeiro, with its eighty islands, Sugar Loaf Mountain, a bare rock
standing at