“_Collector_—That’s conclusive—I don’t think it worth while to waste time; I’ve decided to seize the vessel. “_Mr. Goodrich_—I insist on my right. Were you permitted to satisfy yourselves that the pipe contained whisky? “_Witnesses_—We were. “_Collector_—I think, Mr. Provost Marshal, this case is a clear one. “_Mr. Goodrich_—I’ll make it clearer, sir. Gentlemen, would you recognize that pipe of whisky if you saw it again, so as to be able to swear to it? “_Witnesses_—We should. “_Mr. Goodrich_—(taking an old Briar Wood from his pocket). Was that the pipe? “_Witnesses_—(emphatically)—That’s the identical pipe. “_Collector_—(with very long face and very large eyes)—What do you say? “_Witnesses_—That’s the pipe that Mr. Goodrich had whisky in. “_Collector_—(rushing out of the office)—Go to ——. The rest of the sentence was lost in the distance.” CHAPTER XVIII. The Southern “Ultima Thule” of the United States. Along the Florida coast there were occasional glimpses of solitary light-houses and barren beaches; once we got aground where there ought to have been deep water, and were pleasantly assured that, if we had to take to the land, we would be among the everglades, with no chance of finding any inhabitants but moccasin snakes, and possibly a stray Seminole; for the rest, we had schools of porpoises plunging about our feet, the superb phosphorescence of the waters, and fine fishing—each haul of a dolphin or a Spanish mackerel from our stern line creating as much sensation on deck as one would have expected from the _Stonewall_. And so, with favoring breezes and the most delicious weather, we coasted among the keys, and finally steamed into the harbor of Key West. The United States District Attorney, pleasantly known in Washington, where he occupied a responsible position in the Treasury Department, during the dark days of the war, as “Plantz, of Florida,” came aboard the “Wayanda” as soon as she touched the wharf. He was full of the glories of Florida, and the hopes of the re-organizing State; but, in this climate, there were things more important than politics. “It’s your sacred duty, you know, to take care of your health in this tropical country; and there’s nothing so good to begin with as our acclimatizing drink, which is the greatest of all the institutions of Key West.” “Champerou,” it appeared, was the name of this acclimatizer. Its concoction appeared a miracle of the powers of combination. Curacoa was taken as the base; Absinthe, Maraschino and other _liqueurs_ were added, with sugar and eggs thrown in, till an analytical chemist would have been hopelessly puzzled by the compound. But it proved acclimatizing; and I observed that even the natives still thought it wise to take prudent precautions—such as a glass of Champerou—against the effects of the climate.