Life in Santos--now at high pressure, then idle--now pitiless to one’s neighbor, then tender as a brother--now mastering business knowledge of the ports and exchanges of the world as if such accuracy were all-important, then comes a whirl of speculation in exchange which seems to take all value out of special expert knowledge--life in Santos is evasive to one who would portray it faithfully. It seems difficult to express more than half the truth at one time. If one lives there a month the personal histories will all be familiar to him, and a like time on the Praça (Exchange) will acquaint him with the business characteristics of every firm. It is easy to learn things on the ground, to get a just and appreciative knowledge of excellencies and difficulties which is not readily transferrable. There are not only facts which can be stated, but a spirit of the place and people as necessary to know as the facts. CONSULAR SERVICE AT SANTOS. While these reminiscences of our life in Santos and Guaruja in 1895 and ’96 are uppermost, a figure comes to my mind which deserves your knowledge. It was still painfully near the horrible epoch of yellow fever developed by dredging for the new quays. That was why we all slept at Guaruja, the Barra, São Vicente, or São Paulo, even though daily coffee, banking or navigation business must be prosecuted in Santos. Such living was and is expensive, very. At this time the United States saw fit to pay her consul in Santos $1,600 a year, since raised to $2,700, without allowance for office rent and expenses. The port cleared eight to ten millions of dollars’ worth of coffee per annum for the United States, and a large import business was opening up. The barest existence at Guaruja, or other healthful suburbs, for a single man, with daily transportation to Santos, cost $1,500 in gold. But one man could be found to try the service of our government for this State, and he was an Alabama negro. He was presumably an immune from yellow fever. At any rate, his income necessitated his sleeping in his office in Santos, and when even such undignified economies left him short of funds, he borrowed of the American merchants. A U.S. cruiser anchored off shore. The U.S. Consul and American citizens were invited on board. Tide and conditions made it necessary for the “tars” to carry the guests ashore on their backs through water about waist deep. The lieutenant in charge prophesied too sure an accident to do other than advise the consul to wade ashore on his own feet. This black man did the routine work of the office, earned more than he received, and left in debt. Merchants, as consular agents, have filled emergencies for the government. The lack of a living salary for a good man as consul in a difficult but important port is the point I wish to make clear.