moved at an expense disproportionate to the necessity of having it on the other side is something that, in the absence of more definite information, can only be guessed at.

In the present turmoil regarding our war preparations and the progress, or, rather, the lack of progress, they are making, it is distinctly refreshing to turn our attention to constructive work that is really going on apace, such as that in the creation of the great shipbuilding plant at Hog Island, as described in the leading article in this issue of THE NAVY AND MERCHANT MARINE. We boast to ourselves and to others of our wealth of resource and our undoubted energy. Under the government bureaucracies there are evidences of getting in each other's way that are not pleasant to behold. Yet, here at Hog Island a great constructive work is being done, of which every American may well be proud. And this is but one-though the largest-of the many details of constructive work that are now being performed and the results from which will become evident at the proper time. At Newark Bay there is being constructed a great shipyard that is second in size, perhaps, only to Hog Island. Having 28 slipways in the place of 50, it has been possible here to advance the work more rapidly and at this yard the first keel was laid on December 20.

This yard is, in reality, an assembly point which will be fed by over 46 steel fabricating shops accustomed to manufacturing steel material for skyscrapers, bridges, gas plants, and the like. The number of workmen required on the hull construction alone, when the plant is going at full speed, will be over 15,000 while the number of workmen employed in different locations from the Atlantic Coast to as far West as Milwaukee in fabricating of the raw material will represent over 30,000. The Newark Bay Shipyard will be the main assembly point for hull material as well as turbines, deck machinery, etc., that goes to complete the entire ship. Over 15 miles of

industrial standard-gauge railroad tracks will be laid on the property and over 30,000 piles will be driven to complete the shipways. The main buildings are of steel, two 700 feet long; the Administration building of 40,000 square feet, already occupied by over 400 employees. The other steel buildings, comprising machine shops, storage warehouses, equipment shops, etc., are rapidly nearing completion.

The workmen for erecting the ships will come from all parts of the country and will comprise trades which heretofore have been utilized in office building and bridge construction. Schools will be established at the plant for training these men in ship work and it is expected that men accustomed to structural steel erection can very soon become, by the methods employed at the Newark Bay Shipyard, skilled in steel ship building.

The housing conditions at Newark have been a problem that the Shipyard has had to contend with, but through the Board of Trade of the City of Newark, and the Emergency Fleet Corporation, Washington, additional housing facilities will be afforded in the near future to take care of the great number of new men who will be called upon to work at this plant. While the demand for new houses is of the greatest importance in connection with the Newark Bay Shipyard, temporarily the City of Newark, Jersey City and New York can take care of the large number of men who will be employed, as within a circle of ten miles of the plant over 7,000,000 people reside, making this location one of the most ideal for this enterprise.

The 5,000-ton ship which the Submarine Boat Corporation will build at this yard has been designed and worked out so that structural steel can be utilized in its construction, yet equalling in every way the highest standard of shipbuilding, and the ships will carry the highest classification from Lloyd's and the American Bureau of Shipping.

H

ERE is a letter written in Paris about the middle of December last. It tells a vivid story of living conditions there and eases up our own feeling a little here in the United States: Dear H:

Last evening E-read me your letter of November 27th and I started a letter to you to give you some figures prevailing here so that you wouldn't feel so lonesome in the H. C. of L., but I couldn't keep up the fire, on a/c of H. C. of wood, and had to go to bed before the letter was finished. Also my hands were too cold to hit the keys properly, and am therefore going to rewrite the thing here at the office where we are, for the present at least, properly heated. In the following quotation, which I am just jotting down as they come to me, I am converting the franc at its pre-war value, because incomes here have not increased on account of fall in exchange, and besides we have to pay 10% more whenever we send money to America.

In the first place here are some quotations of yesterday from the Central Market in Paris, but by the time the goods reach us, these prices have increased to cover retailer's costs and profit, taxes, etc:

we have used saccharine in tea and coffee; 10 small tablets, weighing 150 grains, cost 60c of which 44 is for Government tax.

Margarine 45 to 50c a pound.
Honey 50c a pound.

Quaker Ooats 74c a box.

Candles 10c each, and we have to use a lot of them because electricity is cut off nearly every day until about 6:30 P.M.

Kerosene sells at about $1.00 a gallon when you can get it, but for several weeks our St. Cloud stores have had none.

Bread, ordinary kind, 6c, but what we get here is so poor that no respectable person would eat it. E and I have been eating a special bread from Paris costing 8c a pound, but M has to have "biscottes," a kind of rusk, costing from 50 to 60c a pound. Lately our Paris bread has been too bad for E-to digest, and she has had to take to biscottes. From the 1st of January our bread ration will be 200 grammes (about 7 ounces) per person per day, although working people may get as much as 600 grammes.

Milk is scarce. Our man lets us have a quart nearly every day, but it all has to be boiled and costs us 16c.

Prunes 40 to 50c a pound.

Dried figs 34c.

Salt 8c.

Oolong tea $1.60 (used to be $1.00).
Rice 36c.

Flour can't be purchased except at your baker's pleasure and in pound packages-one to a person. I don't know the price.

Fire wood $32. On our coal cards we have been receiving one 100 pound sack about every three weeks, but it is nothing but soft coal dust and won't burn except when mixed with wood or real coal, and it cost from $25 to $28 a ton. Hard coal, when it can be had, sells for from $75 to $85.

Guess the above examples will hold you for a while. Of course there are a few others

(Continued from January number)

CHAPTER V

The vessel came down on us like a meteor. Before we got on deck she was close aboard on our starboard beam. Peter told me to look at her carefully. She was a two-top-sail schooner; that is she has a square fore and main top-sail, with top-gallant sails over. When these square sails were furled, the yards on deck, and the masts housed, the fore and aft sails would equal single reefs. This rig is now obsolete; though, if I were going to build a large sailing yacht, I would rig her in this way. She would be the most rakish and saucy-looking craft afloat. The stranger had a long swivel amidships, and a smaller one mounted forward of the foremast. She was painted black, had a flush deck, and four quarter boats. No flag was flying. We were hailed in good English, though he who hailed us looked like a Spaniard.

"What ship is that?" he asked. "Where are you from, and where are you bound?”

We replied to all these interrogations. Our Captain was too much astonished at her extraordinary speed and appearance to ask any questions. There was no name on her stern, and only three men were to be seen on deck. Captain Gillette asked the mate what he made her out. He replied that she was a mystery, and that he did not like her looks, as she appeared like neither a war-ship nor a merchant

man.

At ten o'clock the wind moderated enough to let us set all light sails, including the starboard studdingsails. At noon we sighted the mysterious stranger again right ahead. At 1 P. M. a heavy squall was coming down on us. Then we took in the studdingsails and royals. The main top-gallant studdingsail fouled over the brace-block, and I went aloft to clear it. While I was on the yard the squall struck us with terrific force. Everything had to let go by the run to save the masts. The studding-sail blew

to ribbons in my hands. The top-sail halyards had been let go, and down I went with the yard. I had secure myself on the foot-rope near the brace block. This I did to save myself from being knocked off by the slapping of the top-gallant sheet. It was marvellous that I was not thrown from the yard when it came down on the cap. The squall was soon over, but it took the rest of the day to repair the split sails.

About four o'clock the stranger hove-to till we passed her, when she trimmed her canvas, and was along-side again like magic.

"What does your cargo consist of?" he asked. "Coal, salt, crates, and iron," we replied. She starboarded her helm and hauled to southward, but before dark was ahead of us again. By this time all hands showed uneasiness, but said nothing. Supper was announced, but no one had any appetite. We all sat on the forecastle, straining our eyes into the darkness to see if we could discern the schooner. The captain came forward at eleven

o'clock to join the mate, who had four points to the southward. I don't like that craft. She was right ahead when last seen. We had better give her the slip during the night."

Peter now joined in and said, "If you don't want them to board us, we better keep our course. They have their eye on us, and if we attempt to avoid them they may suppose we are not bound for Galveston, and that our cargo is not of such small value as we told them. Once on board of us they will show their true character, and before daylight we shall all have walked the plank, and the "Emily" will be sunk five thousand fathoms deep. None of us will be left to tell the tale. I have been on these waters before, Captain Gillette, and know these crafts and what I am talking about.

Peter's words were ominous.

They sent a thrill of horror through all of us. They sounded like the death sentence pronounced by a judge in deep, solemn tones to a prisoner whose hours are numbered.

The course was not changed. Silence pervaded the whole crew. The night was very dark. Suddenly Peter nudged me, and motioned me to follow him aft. When abreast of the gangway he whispered in my ear.

"Boy, be a man. Don't tremble so. Your teeth chatter as if you had the ague. Slip down below and bring up a pannikin of rum; you know where it is stowed. You need courage to carry out what you will have to undertake before sunrise. By that time there will be more of the 'Emily' or her crew, except you and me. Get the rum and then hear the rest."

I groped my way down the after-hatch and into the store-room, and got the rum. I begged him not to take too much, as I knew his desperate character when in liquor. "Don't fear," he said. "I never take too much in serious times. Now drink a little yourself; it will brace you up. Put the cup where we can get it again, and let us walk the deck where we can be seen but not heard. Much of my life you have heard me relate, from boyhood to manhood. The rest you shall hear now. My first criminal act, when I was a mere child, led on by others, landed me and them in the galleys, whence we escaped after murdering the guards. All except me were taken and guillotined. I was too small to have a hand in the murder. At the trial my plea of ignorance of any evil intent saved me from the extreme penalty of the law, but I was sent on board a French manof-war, from which I escaped after many years of service. Then I found myself in the Spanish navy, and after the battle of Trafalgar I shipped in a slaver.

"We were on our way from the Congo, bound to

San Domingo, with four hundred slaves stowed in the hold. The prospects were good for a profitable voyage. When we were off Porto Rico a schooner, just like the one you have seen this morning, came up and hailed us. It was getting dark, and she passed ahead. When the next day was breaking she hailed us to heave-to, and brought her guns to bear. In a moment we were grappled and boarded. Part of our crew at once attacked our officers, and with the pirates who had boarded us, made short work of those who showed any resistance. We who had done this were allowed to join the pirate crew, as we had proved ourselves worthy of them. If we had acted otherwise we would have been slain also.

"An officer with a prize crew took charge of our schooner, after we had been sent aboard the pirate, and took the slaver into Havana, where she and her cargo were sold. I stayed with the pirates three years, but their life did not suit me, and I made my escape during a battle with two-English ships-of-war which had discovered our stronghold in the Bay of San Lorenzo.

"Now boy," Peter continued, "to save ourselves we must join these pirates who will board us about day-break. You take your position behind Mr. Crawford, and as soon as they board, strike him with this knife between the shoulders."

At these instructions my knees began to give way. Peter seized me, or I should have fallen. The story he told me was all very well until it became my turn to be an actor. But a nip of rum administered by him, set me all right. He said it would be better to kill the mate than to be killed myself, and our crew would all be slaughtered anyway. He called it justifiable self-defence, and said that after we had joined the pirates he would find a way for us to escape. He so worked on my imagination that I really felt I was going to do an excusable deed. The knife he gave me was his favorite one; it had a very long blade incased in a wooden sheath instead of the leather usually used for sheath-knives. I agreed to do as he bade me, and took my place behind the mate. Peter took his place near the captain. It had just struck seven bells. There had been scarcely a word spoken forward during the night. The sound of the bells fell upon me like a funeral knell. Tears began to run down my cheeks. Mr. Crawford had always been good to me; why should I kill him? Everybody had treated me well on board. I thought of home, and the plans I had laid for the future; now my aspirations and hopes would all be ruined in the next half-hour. A horror of the situation seized me. I slipped off the bitts upon which I had been sitting, and walked aft. Peter followed me. He said, "You had better take a little I don't think the cook will serve us with

more rum.

coffee this morning. It is chilly for you after the long night's watch. I see that you have a slight attack of ague."

"No, Peter, I don't want to drink; I am not cold. But I would rather be killed than commit murder in such cold blood."

But his pleadings, his love for me, and the review of our friendship had their effect. The demon that seduced our great mother was whispering in my ear. I again did as he told me, and stationed myself behind the mate.

The silence was broken by the captain saying he wished it was daylight. "It will be here soon enough," I heard Peter say, "I see it breaking in the east, and before the sun is up all will be over."

The day was indeed breaking, and night was furling her black flag. The light mounted slowly towards the zenith, and as our eyes were strained to catch a glimpse of the mysterious craft, we saw her shoot out of the darkness, heading across our bow to the northward. We looked in that direction and saw a large West India merchant-man about four miles on our starboard beam. She was running before the wind with studding-sails set on both sides, and was evidently Dutch from her build.

"She is doomed," Peter said, "and we are safe. Those poor fellows will never muster around the grog-pail again. Presently you will see the schooner make her heave-to."

The words were scarcely spoken when we saw the smoke from her Long Tom. The signal was unheeded, and a shot brought down her foremost, which took the maintop-mast with it. This crippled her so that in less than an hour she was out of sight astern.

While in Amsterdam, years after, my curiosity led me to ascertain what ships were lost during the year in which the above incident occurred, and I learned that the ship "Crown Prince William" from Rotterdam, bound for Curacoa, was never heard from.

We felt ourselves safe for the time being but changed our course, fearing that after she had pillaged and sunk the ship she might overtake and destroy us, to avoid being reported. We did not consider ourselves out of danger until we entered the harbor of Galveston.

Here Peter and I intended to desert, but there were no vessels in port except the "Houston," a frigate of the Texas navy, commanded by Captain Grey (late of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company) being her first-lieutenant, and two rakish-looking schooners. These were fitting out for the coast of Africa, nominally for the slave-trade, but perhaps for something worse. Large inducements were offered us to join them, but we preferred the frigate

At this time Galveston was the refuge for outlaws of all nations. There were not more than twenty houses-I should say shanties—in the place. The British consul's wife was the only white woman I saw there. Our ship was said to be the first squarerigged merchant-ship that had ever crossed the bar. After we had been here a week, an opportunity presented itself for our escape. A dark night favored us, when we brought up in a vile den, whose proprietor, a Spaniard, agreed to put us on board the frigate before morning. Liquor flowed freely in the meantime. Peter became intoxicated and quarrelsome, and soon there was a general fight, in which knives were used without ceremony. I was seized by a negro woman and hustled out of the place. Once outside, she said, "I'se gwine to take you whar you isn't gwine to hab your froat cut. You was' mong pirates, or slaves as dey call themselves, who is waiting to make up dair crew."

Two negro men joined us, and the three put me into a small boat and rowed me off to the frigate, on which I was glad to find myself. The officer of the deck asked me no questions, but told me to go below. The negroes were recompensed by the officers for bringing me on board. During the night the schooners left the harbor. Whether Peter was on board one of them, or had been killed during the fight, I could not tell you. However, I was glad to part company with him, for although I loved him, his dangerous character made me fear him. When in liquor he would rather fight than eat, and was always too ready with his knife.

At four in the morning all hands were piped on deck to holy-stone. This done, and the decks being sqillgeed, and well dried with swabs, we were mustered, and those who had not regularly enlisted did so now. The wages were ten dollars a month; time of service, two years. After this we were stationed, then piped down to breakfast.

The captain of the maintop was in the mess to which I was assigned. He was a handsome Englishman-of-war's man, with a long black beard and mustache, and was as straight as an arrow, supple as a whalebone, and every inch a sailor. During breakfast he plied me with all sort of questions, and it was finally agreed, if Peter did not turn up, that I should be his chum.

At 10 A. M. the British Consul came on board, and politely requested that two of his Britannic Majesty's subjects who had deserted from the British ship "Emily" be delivered to him. Lieutenant Gray replied that the crew consisted of Texans, and when the consul asked to have the crew mustered, Grey lost his temper, and said, "Do you mean to doubt my word by asking the crew to pass in review before you? The right of search is not to be tolerated