As a delicate piece of attention, the author of which can be easily
recognized, the end of the cipo spread out before the very window of
the young mulatto, as though a long arm was forever holding a bouquet
of fresh flowers across the blind.
To sum up, it was as charming as could be; and as Yaquita, her
daughter, and Lina were content, we need say no more about it.
"It would not take much to make us plant trees on the jangada," said
Benito.
"Oh, trees!" ejaculated Minha.
"Why not?" replied Manoel. "Transported on to this solid platform,
with some good soil, I am sure they would do well, and we would have
no change of climate to fear for them, as the Amazon flows all the
time along the same parallel."
"Besides," said Benito, "every day islets of verdure, torn from the
banks, go drifting down the river. Do they not pass along with their
trees, bushes, thickets, rocks, and fields, to lose themselves in the
Atlantic eight hundred leagues away? Why, then, should we not
transform our raft into a floating garden?"
"Would you like a forest, miss?" said Fragoso, who stopped at
nothing.
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