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"Stay till you have been on shore and seen the inside as well as the outside of things," observed Cousin Silas, who had overheard us. We thought he was in what we used to call one of his grumpy humours, and did not heed him. We sailed on, and dropped our anchor opposite to the city of Funchal. A health-boat came off, but as no one was sick on board, the people in her did not trouble us much.

As soon as we had anchored, the health-boat came off to us. She was a large, gaily-painted boat, manned by a mahogany-coloured crew with red caps and sashes, and white shirts, all jabbering away in very unpleasant-sounding Portuguese.

As soon as her sails were stowed, which was speedily done, the health-boat came alongside, and as it appeared she had come from Sicily, pratique was immediately given her. She was next visited by the custom-house boat.

We were anxious to get on shore to see about coals, water, and provisions, but no health-boat came near us. We landed, went to the market, bought some lovely carnations stuck in a prickly-pear leaf to keep them fresh, and then went to the Hôtel Royal kept by the landlord of the old Club House Hotel, where we had so often stayed to order breakfast.