The seringal we have come to visit is typical of the many widely scattered villages which the rubber industry has called into existence in the Brazilian forests of the Amazon--typical in its isolation, and as regards the style of its buildings, the kind of people who make up the population, and the everyday life of the little community, who are cut off from the rest of the world. The outstanding buildings are the manager’s house, which boasts a tiled roof, his office and store. These are to all intents and purposes “government” quarters; for, although the manager represents a private individual, he rules the community who work for his master with much the same sort of authority he might be expected to exercise if he held office under the Republic. Round about his quarters are some thatched shanties, which provide accommodation for part of the community. But some of the labourers have to go their daily round from tree to tree in far distant parts of the forest; where their work is, there must they make their home in a solitary hut. The merriest day of the week for everybody is Saturday, when all the rubber-gatherers have to make their way to the manager’s quarters, to hand over the rubber they have collected and to buy stores for the coming week. This general meeting, called together by business, is taken full advantage of as an opportunity for gossip, hospitality, and various little jollifications, such as a “sing-song.” The population of a seringal consists of working-class Brazilians, who are of Portuguese and mixed Portuguese and Indian descent. Certainly they look a rough lot, but that is not surprising, seeing what a hard life they lead--and there are many rough diamonds among them. You will feel more in sympathy with them when you have lived but a day in their midst, and been with one of them on his round. But already you must have been thinking that they have not much comfort to look forward to when their work is done, for you can see at a glance that their houses are mere shelters. Here is the picture you will take away in your mind’s eye of a rubber-gatherer’s home on the shores of the Amazon: A framework of poles, uprights and crossbars, carries a thatched roof. The building is open on all sides--indeed, the only other detail which entitles it to the name of building is one floor, raised well above the ground, so that the inmates of the house can keep a little distance out of damp’s way. The unpartitioned space between floor and roof serves as common day-room and night-room. Hammocks provide sleeping accommodation; old boxes take the place of tables and chairs; pots and pans pretend to be ornaments; every corner is a makeshift cupboard for tinned foods, bottles, oil-cans, tools, and suchlike oddments; and the framework of poles does duty as wardrobe on week-days and as linen-line for the washing on Sundays.