The kindness of M. de Brandao, director of the Botanic Garden, induced him to invite me, shortly after I had seen the above described tea ground, that I might inspect all the operations for the preparation of tea. I found that the picking of the leaves had been commenced very early in the morning, and two kilogrammes were pulled that were still wet with dew. These were deposited in a well-polished iron vase, the shape being that of a very broad flat pan, and set on a brick furnace, where a brisk wooden fire kept the temperature nearly up to that of boiling water. A negro, after carefully washing his hands, kept continually stirring the leaves in all directions, till their external dampness was quite evaporated, and the leaves acquired the softness of linen rag, and a small pinch of them, when rolled in the hollow of the hand, became a little ball that would not unroll. In this state the mass of tea was divided into two portions, and a negro took each and set them on a hurdle, formed of strips of bamboo, laid at right angles, where they shook and kneaded the leaves in all directions for a quarter of an hour, an operation which requires habit to be properly performed, and on which much of the beauty of the product depends. It is impossible to describe this process; the motion of the hands is rapid and very irregular, and the degree of pressure requisite varies according to circumstances; generally speaking, the young negro women are considered more clever at this part of the work than older persons. As this process of rolling and twisting the leaves goes on, their green juice is drained off through the hurdle, and it is essential that the tea be perfectly divested of the moisture, which is acrid, and even corrosive, the bruising and kneading being especially designed to break the parenchyma of the leaf, and permit the escape of the sap.