Isles of the Sea by Oliver Optic

The night passed away, and the morning, and the Ville d'Angers did not appear off the island. The principal had a long and anxious conference with Mr. Fluxion. There was only one thing it was possible to do, and that was to send the Prince in search of the missing steamer; but it was decided to wait a day or two longer before this was done.

The next afternoon the doctor and his little party landed in the city, and began to explore the place. After months of constant sight-seeing, they found little in the way of public buildings, squares, or streets, to engage their attention, and were more inclined to get out into the country among the budding flowers and orange-groves.

"That's one of the carts we read of," said Scott, laughing, as he stopped to view a sort of sled on which a yoke of small oxen were hauling a pipe of wine.

"It is one of the kind we see in Funchal, and elsewhere in the island," replied the doctor. "Wheels are not practicable among these hills; and I am not sure that this thing pulls any harder than the car with the revolving axle which we saw in Portugal."

"It certainly does not make any more music," added Murray, referring to the hideous screeching of the cart they had seen in Lisbon.

The sled was something like a "stone-drag" used in the New England States. It was a plank eight feet long and a foot and a half wide, hollowed in the middle so that a wine-cask will fit into it. It was four inches thick, and pointed off at the bow like a boat. Under it were two wooden runners. While the students were looking at it, and while the driver was still yelling with all his might at his diminutive cattle, a boy threw a sort of mop made of rope-yarns, which he had just dipped into a puddle of water, under the forward end of the sled. The runners passed over it, wetting the bottoms, thus making them run a little easier, and removing the danger of fire from friction.

"This is the Praca Constitucional, a very common name for a square in Spain and Portugal. It was formerly the ‘Praca da Rainha,' or Queen Square; but the Constitution is more popular than the Queen."

From the square the party passed into the market-place adjoining it. Provisions, vegetables, fruit, provender for horses, and wood were the articles on sale. It was just such a sight as they had seen in Lisbon, and the venders were yelling their wares vigorously when any one that looked like a buyer came in sight. One man had a pole on his shoulder, on which were hung by the legs a dozen pairs of chickens, all alive, and kicking to the extent of their ability. Another had pigeons; but he had considerately killed them before he suspended them on the pole. The one who drove a single pig had about the same luck with him as any other attempting this difficult feat.

"Drive him the other way! " shouted Scott to the Portuguese, pointing behind the driver.

"He don't understand you," interposed the doctor, translating the remark into Portuguese.

The man laughed as though he had heard the joke before; but he did not adopt the suggestion.

"What's the use of that brush they have tied up in bundles? " asked Sheridan, as they paused before a vender of this sort of merchandise.

"The bakers and others use it to heat their ovens," replied Dr. Winstock. "Wood is a very scarce article in Madeira, though the name of the island in Portuguese means ‘wood. ' There is little or no need of fuel here, except for cooking purposes. Those bundles of little sticks are not much better than the fagots. All the coal has to be brought from other countries; and that makes it very expensive. The wealthier people and the boarding-houses use it."

"Boarding the invalids that come here must be a great business among the people," said Wainwright, as they passed a group of pale consumptives, seated in the sun on the Praca.

"It is a very important item of the business of the island."

"Do you think it does them any good to come here? " asked Scott.

"Undoubtedly it does; though, if you visit the cemeteries, you will find a great many English and American names on the gravestones. The great difficulty is that those troubled with pulmonary diseases come when it is too late for the climate to benefit them."

The party passed into the principal street of the town, which was not more than twenty-five feet wide, and it was a broad thoroughfare for Funchal.

"Every gentleman seems to be acquainted with every lady he meets," said Sheridan, as they made their way through the crowded street.

"That remark applies only to the native gentlemen; and it is the custom for them to lift their hats to every lady they meet," replied the surgeon.