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It was a red-letter day for Maria Palmyra: she was to entertain a visitor of her own, and, moreover, one who had never before been to the "new house" which was the pride of Palmyra's heart. It was not her house, though to tell the truth it might well have been, judging from the beneficent rule which she bore over the very youthful and newly married English couple whose guide, philosopher, and friend she had been through their first struggles with Portuguese housekeeping. Two years had passed since those early days, and now Palmyra was content to let her young mistress hold the reins of household management, whilst she "stood by" ready to help in case of emergency. To-day, an English friend was coming to visit the senhora, and was bringing her own special maid, a trusted retainer of many years' service.

It did not take Palmyra long to get through her work that morning, and to hustle her underlings through their own tasks; her next duty was to visit the cook, alternately friend and enemy, and to hint that some extra delicacy might be added to the usual mid-day menu of boiled dried cod and potatoes. Fortunately,

Josephina, cook, was in one of her best moods this morning and assured Menina (Miss) Palmyra that a good dish of stewed French beans, with plenty of tomato and onion, should be forthcoming: they further decided to club together and buy a water-melon when the fruit cart round; and, having desired the young servant to put out a clean tablecloth and to see that the chipped plates were arranged in the least conspicuous parts of the table, Palmyra retired upstairs to dress for her visitor.

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When her plump figure was arrayed in a black silk skirt, and a flowered silk blouse, very cleverly evolved by her own skilful fingers from the relics. of a trousseau - cloak of her senhora's,-when her watch and chain, and rings were put on: no pinchbeck, but heirlooms, and gifts from past mistresses and friends,-Palmyra fetched her "company" work, and sat down by her window to await the arrival of the guests. At last the carriage appeared, slowly approaching, and Palmyra ran downstairs,-not to open the door, for her mistress was sitting on the verandah at the top of the steps, but to stand smilingly by till the ladies had greeted one another, and

the visitor could turn round on the part of the guest, who and say: "Well, Palmyra, also did not fail to drink "to you see I have brought your health" in her mug of red Candida to spend the day country wine. An hour was with you." then passed in more or less But no such haphazard greet- drowsy and desultory chat, with ing sufficed for the Portuguese one wide-awake interlude in ladies. Palmyra made a grace- which Candida explained to ful bow to Candida, who was Palmyra a new stitch in the a neat little body in dark dress crochet-work at which she was and close bonnet, and said: famous. As the day grew "How do you do, ma'am (min- cooler, Palmyra took her friend ha senhora); I am very pleased for a stroll, through the garden, to make your acquaintance,"- and then down to the village: to whom Candida replied: as they passed by the empty "And I am equally pleased to house at the foot of the hill, make yours, madam,"-where- the caretaker, a great ally, inupon they ceremoniously em- sisted on picking them each a braced one another on both bunch of flowers; and as they cheeks, and retired to their own went on, they had the quite quarters. This struck the key- unique luck of meeting two note of the day's companion- friends-a butler from the city, ship: a courteous friendliness, whose "family" were now in never relaxing into familiarity, their country house, and a but allowing of a good deal of young carpenter from the next confidential intercourse. Sen- village. With these swains in hora Palmyra first escorted attendance, they were adSenhora Candida over the dressed as Senhor Antonio and house, listening with delighted Senhor Manuel, the ladies smiles to her guest's praises of strolled homewards in great all she saw, but expressing her content; many compliments conviction that Candida's own were exchanged, and the talk residence must also be rich in rambled on about earthquakes comforts and conveniences, and high winds, and those beautiful views, &c., &c. They bad-mannered ones, the Rethen sat down for a long chat, publicans - all our friends first on matters in general- being staunch Monarchists, the tiresomeness of young girls, till the quartette arrived the bad tempers of cooks, the more at the garden vicissitudes of "ironing-day"; and then, finding that they possessed various common friends in service at some of the town houses, they proceeded to a right-down good gossip which lasted till young Florinda ran up to call them to their dinner. This was eaten at leisure, with many expressions of enjoyment

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where they reluctantly parted company. The carriage came round, too, and Candida had to depart, embracing and thanking Palmyra,— they had by now sworn eternal friendship,-who on her part looked forward to a speedy return visit, and informed her mistress emphatically that:

"that Candida is a good creature-very steady, a very good person"; and without doubt

Candida was giving her mistress an equally favourable criticism of Senhora Palmyra!

IV.

PURPLE AND GOLD.

The September sun beat down with all the power that brings to a southern autumn the rich fulfilment of the promise of spring. Our carriage had left the plain, and the horses pulled steadily up the long, white, hilly road, at the top of which we should again come in sight of the sea washing the sands of Collares. On either side, as far as we could see, lay vineyards, where men, women, and children worked unceasingly, for the midday siesta was over, and all must make the most of the afternoon hours, before sunset and darkness-there is no twilight in Portugal-sent all home for the evening meal.

In this district the vines are trained to grow like gooseberry bushes; and after the long hot summer many had shed all their leaves, and their precious burdens were exposed to view. Such leaves as still remained had lost every vestige of green, and were gay in crimson, bronze, and gold. Now and then a grape-cart, laden to the brim, drew away from a vineyard and creaked slowly up the hill. Barrel-shaped, on two wheels, and drawn by a lean mule or plodding ox, the sides of the cart were deeply stained with purple, and a heady scent arose from its contents: one would

hardly have been surprised to see the driver clad in Bacchanalian leopard - skin and vinewreath, instead of the wide felt hat and patched blue overalls which formed his dress.

As we mounted higher we found ourselves approaching a tiny village. First came solitary houses, pink-washed and green-shuttered, each with its smooth threshing-floor outside. Some were golden with heaps of beaten-out Indian corn; but most were purple with grapeskins, the refuse from the winepress, raked out and left to dry in the sun, and then to be given to the oxen, or spread out to fertilise the soil of their parent fields.

As we entered the village the imperial colour was allpervading; the doorsteps were spotted, the street had great splashes, deepest where little bunches had fallen from the carts and been crushed by the feet of the villagers. And these, too, bore the marks on their clothes, and on their hands and faces. Children, their small brown faces weirdly stained, held bunches of the little closely-growing black grapes, out of which they bit large mouthfuls, as one might bite from a lump of bread! The very chickens quarrelled over the stray berries and

skins. And from the whole In another minute we had turned the brow of the hill, and were descending to meet the refreshing breeze from the Atlantic.

village rose the warm, cloying odour of the grapes, like the incense from some pagan altar.

V.

NEEDLES AND SOAP.

The Portuguese materfamilias of the lower middle class is a past mistress of the art of patching, and the poverty of the peasant class is for the most part a very tidy and decent condition. Of course, one cannot expect the beggars -a privileged class, who haunt church doors, and stations, and even assail you at the threshold of restaurants-to mend their clothes, for are not rags and tatters an essential part of their stock-in-trade?

But the cottager, the domestic servant, and the inhabitant of the little apartment in the city, would give an admirable example in neatness to their English counterparts.

The blue cotton trousers and short jacket, which are the Portuguese working-man's substitute for corduroys and moleskin, are patched as necessity arises, until it is often difficult to guess at the original colour. A check shirt will be re-sleeved and re-fronted, and finally receive an entirely new back, by which time the last scraps that matched having been used up, the contriving housewife is obliged to put in a piece of some other material. One sees pink shirts with white backs, and check garments eked out

with blue. Blue cotton trousers exhibit patches of every shade from indigo to "London milk.”

Woollen clothes are made good with the same care and variety; and it is evident that to the minds of these good people patches are nothing to be ashamed of: it is the want of them that would be a disgrace. The women and girls are, it is true, often barefooted; but their cotton or stuff skirts

and they do not stint themselves in the number of their petticoats-clear the ground, and are neatly bound round the hem with braid. No trailing, soiled finery offends one's eye.

It is a pleasure to look at the maidservants with their hair always becomingly arranged and kept in place by sober-coloured combs, their gay print blouses, neatly-made black skirts, and white aprons, made by themselves and often edged with embroidery which is also their own handiwork. It is true that the English mind is rather scandalised by the fact that the Portuguese maid does not wear a cap indoors, or a hat when she goes out, and that if she has a blue dress and a pink one, it appears constitutionally impossible for her to do other

wise than wear the pink skirt with the blue bodice and vice verså!

The neat clothes and calculated repairs would show to little advantage without the additional and frequent employment of soap and water. It cannot yet be said that the daily bath is an institution in a Portuguese cottage or middleclass household; but at least the people wash their clothes! Besides the stone tanks built for the purpose, every little stream and pool is utilised by women busily scrubbing, beating, and rinsing the family wardrobes, not excluding cloth suits and skirts. The linen is spread out in the bright sunshine, and is skilfully ironed, till it finally emerges with a beautiful creamy whiteness, which it seems impossible to achieve in more northerly climates. Imagine the attractive appearance of a dark eyed young baker, starting off on his rounds on a Sunday morning, resplendent in a glowing

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VI.

FISHER-FOLK.

the battalion of long, black fishing-boats, which lie crowded at the quay, their sharply upcurved stems and sterns reminding one of pictures of the war-canoes of the South Sea Islands.

Close to the district-station, which is the Lisbon terminus for the Coast railway to Cascaes, is a stopping - place for the electric cars; and here, owing to occasional eccentricities in the train-service, one is often obliged to wait for a quarter of From this market, between an hour for the desired tram. the hours of earliest morning A few yards away lies the big and midday, there issues a Fish Market, conveniently near constant procession of fish

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