Our time was growing short now.  Maddox changed his clothes in a hurry.  We had to catch the four o’clock train.  We did stop long enough to drink a cup of Brazilian coffee.  Such coffee!  I will not attempt to describe it, because our friends in the States can not understand.  There is nothing like it in this country.  We took time, too, to say good-bye.  The whole crowd lined up and we went the length of the line, bidding everyone a hearty godspeed.  The Brazilian not only shakes hands with you, but he embraces you heartily.  Yes, some of the good matrons embraced us.  It was a novel experience for me, but a mere custom with them, and the act was performed with such modest restraint that any possible objectionable features were eliminated.  Having said good-bye to them all we mounted our gray ponies, and, led by our barefooted friend, rode away with thanks-giving in our hearts for the good fellowship with the saints of Parahyba do Sul.

The tie of love for a common Lord had bound our affections to them.  Their simple-hearted sincerity and devotion had helped us.  Their zeal had contributed to our faith.  One incident touched me especially.  Just before breakfast a little girl about four years of age, led by her mother, brought to us a package containing some Brazilian cakes.  When we opened the package there lay on top a piece of folded paper on Which was written:  “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace, that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation, that saith unto Zion, thy God reigneth’ ’(Isa. 52:7).  Presented to our brother pastors, Maddox and Ray by Archimina Nunes.”  Instantly there arose in my heart the prayer that God would speed the day when his swift-footed messengers shall publish the good tidings of peace to all this vast and needy land.

CHAPTER IV.

Two presidents.

It was our good fortune while in Rio to be received by the President of the Republic, Dr. Nilo Pecanha.  Missionaries Shepard, Langston and Ginsburg and Dr. Nogueira Paranagua escorted me.  When we started I suggested that we take a street car.  Not so those Brazilians!  We must go in an automobile.  We were very careful to wear our Prince Albert coats, too; for, above all things, the Brazilian is a master in punctilious ceremonies.  We were ushered into the waiting room by a doorkeeper, a finely-liveried mulatto with a large chain around his shoulders to indicate his authority.  The waiting room was full of people, but we were not kept waiting long.  We sent in our cards and soon we heard our names announced and we were led into the presence of the private secretary.  After a few words of explanation by Dr. Paranagua, the secretary retired to ask the President if he would see us.  He returned presently and showed us into the audience chamber, which was a large and tastefully decorated room.  Around the walls were several