Then the Americans began to wander about the city. The narrow streets in the business district are like those of Havana and many other cities of people of Latin descent. Through this part of town run little mule propelled tramways with the narrow rails so close to the sidewalks that when the tram is crowded to the side steps there is danger of sweeping the passengers off by passing pedestrians. The visitors saw the cafés, real cafés, where the principal drink is coffee, "strong as the devil, as black as ink, as hot as hell and as sweet as love." Some of the Americans liked the coffee, but the wise ones confined their drinking to limeades. Then the visitors saw the many crowded cinematograph shows, the crowded shops, the powdered, and what Americans would call overdressed women, the panorama of the highways, the newsboys, the hundreds of lottery shops. But above all else they noted the clean condition of things. They asked if it was a sudden spurt of cleanliness and were told that it was not. They asked how about these new streets and the extensive, harmonious and comprehensive building that is going on. It was declared to be part of a broad policy that has been in progress for four or five years, part of a plan to make Rio one of the most beautiful cities in the world, a plan to make it fit the magnificent surroundings which nature has provided for it. American opinion was all summed up in this general expression: "As handsome a city as I ever saw." [Illustration: _Courtesy of Collier's Weekly_ At Anchor at Rio de Janeiro] It was when the bluejackets went ashore that the Americans began to realize what Brazil's welcome really meant. The boys landed with a whoop and began to scatter. Sailorlike some of them headed for the saloons, but the people expected that and were surprised that more of them didn't fall by the wayside. Most of the men, however, went in for rational enjoyment. They crowded the post card emporiums, they bought fruit and trinkets, they piled on the tramways and went any old place so long as it was somewhere. They filled the streets, the cinematograph places. Yes, they hired automobiles and rode about like nabobs to the astonishment of the natives, who must have wondered at the princely wages the United States paid its men. They went to the best restaurants and hotels. Everywhere they were welcomed. "English spoken here" was a frequent sign. They were even allowed to loll on the grass of the many beautiful parks, an act that costs a native a fine of from five to fifteen milreis. They were respectful to all, but they had a commanding way about them that took. They owned the town; they knew it, but did not attempt to take the slightest advantage of it.