The first experience of the traveller with Brazilian money is rather amusing. In New York I had obtained five thousand five hundred reis, which seemed like a large sum of money, enough to pay for the whole trip. Imagine my surprise when I found it lacked five hundred reis of enough to pay for my first meal on shore! It cost three hundred reis to mail a letter to the States, and a street car ride cost another four hundred reis. My boatman cheated me out of one thousand reis without moving an eyelid. All of these things caused me to put pencil to paper in a little calculation. I found that I was a millionaire for the first time in my life. At the rate of exchange then prevailing three hundred and twenty-five dollars would buy one million reis, the money of the country. You may feel like a millionaire when the bank clerk hands over to you a package of bills, with thousands of reis printed all over them; but the illusion soon vanishes when your hotel bill is presented after a few days’ stay, for a million reis soon disappears. The reis in an infinitesimal coin, so small that you could scarcely see it with a magnifying glass, for one thousand of them are worth only thirty-one cents. The milreis (one thousand reis) is used as the unit, and accounts are thus carried in the decimal system, with the dollar mark at the end of the thousand. Thus, one million reis, which is one thousand milreis, or, as it is generally called, one conto, would be written 1,000$000. It is the same as the Portuguese monetary system, although the Brazilian milreis is only worth about half as much as that of Portugal. The money is all paper, and the most of it is the dirtiest and filthiest money I have ever handled. Some of the bills are so tattered, torn and greasy that it is almost impossible for a stranger to tell what denomination they are. The small denominations are large and awkward coins of several different issues, and of several different sizes.