steamer chairs; for how could our minds be fixed on the story when the real life before us was more interesting? The Professor who was to lecture during the trip stepped by with rapid tread, nodding as he passed. The minister from Iowa who was to preach on the Sabbath stopped to exchange greetings, a friend dropped into a vacant chair for a talk. Then the music stands were set up and the band assembled around them and for an hour we listened to selections from Wagner and Bach, varied with the martial strains of Sousa or the melodies of Foster. The stewards brought out a table, filled it with dishes, and served bouillon and biscuit, while near by a kodak carrier was snapping a picture.

I. COMFORTABLY SEATED WITH A BOOK.

II. THE BAND WAS PLAYING CARMEN.

On the ship there were many places of interest. When in need of exercise we visited the gymnasium on the upper deck, and when desirous of a change in cooking we resorted to the grill room where the white clad cook broiled chops in our sight over a bright fire. Impelled by curiosity, we explored the vacant steerage, and with the chief engineer descended the iron ladder to the depths below to investigate the mysteries of the engine and fire rooms. Sometimes from the breezy fore-deck we scanned the horizon for the ships that rarely appeared, and sometimes sought a snug corner aft and watched the swift-winged gulls, the quivering log line, the smoke clouds and their shadows, or the widening streak of water disturbed by the revolving screw.

"How rapidly the week has passed," said a friend on the evening of the twelfth of February. "Listen! One, two, three, four," as the ship's bell rang out four strokes. "Four bells, that's six o'clock. We have half an hour to dress for dinner."

When we entered the brilliantly illuminated dining saloon that evening a bust of Lincoln was on the platform, and the room was decorated with the American colors. Some one had remembered Lincoln's birthday, though many of the passengers had forgotten the date. A picture of Lincoln with the inscription, "In commemoration of President Abraham Lincoln's birthday," was engraved on the covers of the souvenir menus. The dinner was an unusually good one, and the seven selections rendered by the orchestra during the courses were appropriate for the day.

After dinner a man who had been personally acquainted with the martyred President delivered an interesting memorial address. His final words had just been said when an announcement was made which caused a thrill of expectancy and sent us hurriedly to the deck: "Land is in sight!"

CHAPTER II.

FUNCHAL.

"That is the island of Madeira," said the captain, pointing to a dark mass dimly seen against the horizon. "We are now nearly twenty-eight hundred miles southeast of New York."

We had been sailing for seven days with only a vast expanse of ocean in view, and so we longed for a sight of land and eagerly looked forward to the arrival at our first port. As we approached the island the form of a mountain became clear in the star-light; then the twinkling of lights at its base revealed the location of a city. When within half a mile of the shore, the water in the harbor became too shallow for large vessels, so the screw propeller of the Moltke ceased revolving and the ship came to anchor.

"May we go ashore to-night?" many asked.

"Certainly, there is no objection," replied the captain.

A number of the passengers, eager to see the attractions of the place, and too impatient to wait until morning, were rowed across the dark water to the pier. In the city, Funchal, we found that at so late an hour the main attractions were gambling places, dance halls, and lotteries, the owners of which were greedy for American money. The main Casino, in the midst of a beautiful garden, was brilliantly illuminated and its halls were filled with well dressed people. Some of the party who had placed their silver on the tables of chance showed on their return to the steamer handfuls of coins that fortune had brought them; others who had made similar experiments were silent as to the results.

SUNLIGHT SHONE ON THE WHITE WALLS OF FUNCHAL.

"We should have read up the Madeiras before leaving home," said one of the tourists at our early breakfast the morning after our arrival, "but we were too busy then with other things. While you were ashore last night I found in the library an old English book of travel that gave some information about the islands."

IT IS NOT RAPID TRANSIT.

"Share it with us while the stewards are bringing the coffee, won't you?"

ONLY THE BOYS STOPPED THEIR PLAY TO GAZE.

"I made very few notes," she replied. "As we are to be in Funchal but one day, I skipped the statistics of population, hotels, exports, and history. But here are some facts just as I jotted them down:

"'The Madeira Islands, about six hundred miles west of Gibraltar, were settled by the Portuguese and are owned by Portugal.

"'The principal and only town large enough to be called a city is Funchal, situated on the southern side of Madeira on the slope of a hill.

"'The city has an equable climate. Mild sunshine, gentle ocean breezes, and protection from harsh winds by mountains, give to Funchal throughout the whole year the temperature of England in the month of May.

"'The island is very mountainous, gashed with many deep gorges which extend in from the sea. The streets in the city are paved, but the roads in the country are impassable for wagons. Merchandise is carried on pack mules or in ox-drags. Horses are rarely seen and carriages are few. Quaint vehicles are used in their stead for the conveyance of passengers.'

"How odd these vehicles are we shall find out when we land. We shall have a busy day. I am eager to start."

It was yet early when we ascended the deck, but the sun was shining brightly. Funchal appeared like a beautiful picture. Overhead was the azure sky of a summer day; before us, stirred by a gentle breeze, glistened in blue and silver the waters of the harbor; on the curving shore, tier above tier, reflecting the sunshine, rose the white and yellow stone buildings of the city surmounted by roofs of red tiling; above the city, white cottages