A Fantasy of Mediterranean Travel | Page 8

flowers, masses of which
can be seen decorating the villas when one approaches Funchal from

the sea. Madeira is some three hundred miles from Africa, and yet
when sand storms arise on that continent the sand is blown across the
sea and great mounds of it are piled up on this island; arrangements
have to be made to prevent it from entering the houses.
The main island, Madeira, is thirty-three miles long and thirteen broad,
with a population of 151,000. Funchal has 50,000 inhabitants, and is a
quaint and interesting city. The island was known to the Romans, but
was settled by Zargo in the interests of Portugal. Columbus married his
wife at this port. Captain Cook bombarded Funchal in 1768 and
brought that city to his terms. Napoleon was sent here on his way to St.
Helena in 1815. So, on the whole, Madeira has had a fair amount of
checkered history.
The Casino was started as an imitation of Monte Carlo, but caused such
disaster that it was suppressed. The Lisbon officials now visit it once a
year to see that there is no gambling going on; the owners know when
they sail and remove the tables, and after the "inspection" is over and
the officials have returned home, business is resumed in safety and with
the usual profit to the proprietors.
[Illustration: THE HISTORICAL PART OF ATHENS, GREECE.
PANORAMA OF THE GREAT RUINED GROUPS]
The Cork is one of the marine giants, and when all the first-cabin
rooms were sold the company painted up the second-cabin quarters and
sold them at full first-class rates. I joined the party only a few days
before it started and was glad to get an outside, single room, about the
size and shape of a Pullman section. Its distinction was that it had a
port-hole of its own through which I could freely admit the local
climate. When I first surveyed the contracted proportions of this
stateroom, the paucity of its fittings and entire lack of the usual
accommodations, I was filled as full of acute melancholia as an egg is
of meat and had I not paid the passage money I would have bolted from
the Cork out into utter darkness; but I was "in for it," and determined to
make the best of the situation; so I got some clothes lines and screw
hooks, and with them constructed a labyrinth of handy landing nets for
all my belongings, which resembled the telegraph wires on Tenth

Avenue before Mayor Grant cut them down. I also hung my top coat
and mackintosh in convenient places, and used their pockets for storage
vaults. One pocket served as a complete medicine chest, another
accommodated slippers, collars, cuffs and shaving tackle, while I
utilized the sleeve openings (closed at the cuffs with safety pins), to
hold a full line of clothes, hair and tooth brushes, and tied small things
to the buttons, which shook with the vibration of the ship as
sleigh-bells are shaken by the vaudeville artist when he plays Comin'
Through the Rye on them for an encore. The whole arrangement was a
marvelous and instantaneous success, and so proud was I of the
achievement that I invited my neighbors to peep into the stateroom to
see its glories and utilities. Some of them proceeded at once to copy my
best ideas--but that is the fate of all inventors. However, they were
grateful, for they named the passageway on which eight rooms opened,
"Harp Alley," in honor of my nationality, and placed a card with this
legend on it at the entrance:
HARP ALLEY
NIGHT & DAY HOUSE On the South Corner With a Port-Hole on the
Side
Hot Meals and Other Entertainments at all hours
"WE NEVER SLEEP"
The rush of arrivals was so great that I was soon obliged to remove the
sign and "close the house."
But a great catastrophe was shortly to happen which cast a gloom over
the Alley and plunged us into a miniature Republic disaster. A big salt
water pipe was hung from the ceiling of the Alley passage; and what do
you think! under strong pressure it burst with a loud noise one morning
when we were dressing for breakfast and flooded the rooms of the
entire colony before we could say "Jack Robinson!" Such a scurrying
into bath robes and jumping out of staterooms were never seen! I felt
that owing to my high standing and responsible position in the "Alley,"
and having in mind the fame of Binns (of the Republic, the "wireless"

hero of Nantucket shoals), it was incumbent on me to ignore my
personal effects and comfort in an attempt to save the ladies and their
lingerie at any price. So I slipped on my trusty rain coat, and handed
them out under