At this elevation the climate is very much cooler than it is at Rio, the thermometer in the months of May and June sometimes falling as low as 32° just before daybreak. The lowest at which I observed it myself, was on the 26th of May, when, at 8 o’clock A.M., the mercury indicated 39°. The highest to which it rose during the six months I resided on the mountains, was on the 23rd of February, when the mercury stood at 84° at noon. The hot season is also the season of the rains, and violent thunder storms occur almost daily, during the months of January and February. They come on with great regularity about four o’clock in the afternoon, and when they pass over, leave a delightfully cool evening. Like the mountains near Rio, the whole of the Organ range consists of granite. The alluvial soil is very deep and rich in the valleys, and underneath it there exists the same red-coloured argillaceo-ferrugineous clay which is so common at Rio. It being Christmas-day on which we arrived, and a great holiday, we found the whole of the slaves belonging to the estate, amounting to about one hundred, dancing in the yard before the house, and all attired in new suits of clothes, which had been sent out to them the day before. In the evening, a party of the best conducted, principally creoles, were admitted into the verandah of the house, where I had a good opportunity of witnessing their dances—some of them not being very delicate. One of the best was a kind of dramatic dance, of which the following is a programme. Near the door of a house belonging to a Padre (priest), a young fellow commences dancing and playing on the viola, a kind of guitar. The Padre hears the noise, and sends out one of his servants to ascertain the cause. He finds the musician dancing to his own strains, and tells him that he is sent by his master to enquire why he is thus disturbed. The musician tells him that he is making no disturbance at all, but only trying a new dance from Bahia, which he saw the other day at Diario. The servant asks if it is a good one: “Oh, very good,” replies the other, “will you not try it?” The servant claps his hands, cries “Let the Padre go sleep!” and immediately joins in the dance. The same thing is repeated till the Padre’s servants, men, women, and children, amounting to about twenty, are dancing in a circle before the house. Last of all the supposed Padre himself makes his appearance in a great rage, dressed in a large Poncho for a gown, a broad-brimmed black straw hat, and a mask with a long beard to it. He demands the cause of the noise, which, he says, prevents him from enjoying his dinner. The musician tells him the same story that was told to his servants, and after much persuasion, gets him to join in the dance also. He dances with as much zeal as any of them, but, watching his opportunity, he takes out a whip which he has concealed under his gown, and, lashing the whole of them out of the apartment, finishes the performance.