NO ENCOURAGEMENT.

IN the good old days before there were any White Squadrons or any new navy Uncle Sam's sailors went to sea in beautiful squarerigged ships with lots of canvas aloft.

If any two or more of our navy vessels were anchored in the same port, it was always a matter of great rivalry between their respective crews as to which should obey with the most alacrity the various orders signalled from the flag-ship.

When the Penobscot and the Maumee. were at Hampton Roads in the early '70's the Maumee invariably beat the Penobscot, although the latter was the flag-ship.

This was a source of great annoyance to the Admiral, who seemed to take it as a personal slight to himself. The Admiral was a great stickler for naval etiquette, and was especially severe on any infractions of the rule prohibiting on board ship the use of language not generally spoken in polite society.

The first lieutenant of the Maumee, on the other hand, was known as one of the most plain-spoken men in the service; but in view of his great ability and of his popularity with

the men, he had always escaped serious censure from his commanding officers.

The Admiral felt so chagrined at the flagship's slowness in responding to the various orders which the two vessels were supposed to follow in unison that one Sunday, after the chaplain's sermon, he addressed the men on the subject, and earnestly urged them to live up to their full duty as seamen.

Next morning the Admiral stood on the poop-deck to watch the effect of his words, but there was no change in the programme. It was soon clear that the Maumee was going to win again. Turning to the old quartermaster who was standing by the sigual-balyards, he said, impatiently,

"Meagher, what's the matter with the men on this ship?"

At the same moment the calm was broken by language unfit for publication in any secular periodical, borne on the freshening breeze from the Maumee.

"Oh, sir," exclaimed the old salt, as he recognized the tones of the Maumee's executive, "what kin yer expect, sir? Our boys don't never git no proper encouragement!"

the date set for the coronation, leaving Berlin at midnight, and when the chief of the wagon-lit woke us at seven the next morning we were within fifteen minutes of the custom-house.

It was raining, and outside of the wet window-panes miles of dark green grass were drawn over little hills as far as the eye could see. No houses, no people, no cattle, no living thing of any kind moved under the low dark skies or rose from the sodden prairie.

It was a gloomy picture of emptiness and desolation, a landscape without character or suggestion, and as I surveyed it sleepily I had a disappointed feeling of being cheated in having come so far to find that the Russian steppes were merely our Western prairie. But even as this was in my mind the scene changed, and lived with meaning and significance, for as the train rushed on there rose out of the misty landscape a tall white pillar painted in bold black stripes. And I knew that it signalled to Germany and to all the rest of the world, “So far can you go, and no farther," and that we had crossed into the domain of the Great White Czar. It must be a fine thing to own your own home," as the real-estate advertisements are constantly urging one to do, and it must give a man a sensation of pride to see the surveyors' stakes at the corners of his town site or homestead holding, and to know that all that lies within those stakes belongs to him, but imagine what it must be to stake out the half of Europe, planting your painted posts from the Arctic Ocean to the Pacific, from the borders of Austria and Hungary down to the shores of the Black Sea, to the Pamirs, in the very face of the British outposts, and on to China, saying, as it were, Keep out, please; this belongs to me." Trowbridge came with me because he

Copyright, 1897, by Harper and Brothers. All rights reserved.

I

and because he could speak Russian. had heard him speak French, German, and Italian when we had first met at Florence, and so I asked him to go with me to Moscow as an assistant correspondent of the New York paper I was to represent. He made an admirable associate, and it was due to him and his persuasive manner when dealing with Russian officials that I was permitted eventually to witness the coronation. It came out later, however, that his Russian was limited to a single phrase, which reflected on the ancestors of the person to whom it was addressed, and as I feared the result of this, I forbade his using it, and his Russian, in consequence, was limited to

how much?" "tea," and "caviare," so one might say that we spoke the language with equal fluency.

We had a sealed letter from the Russian ambassador at Washington to the custom-house people, and we gave it to a very smart-looking officer in a long gray overcoat and a flat white cap. He glanced over it, and over our heads at the dismal landscape, and said, "We expected you last night at one o'clock," and left us wondering. We differed in opinion as to whether he really had known that we were coming, or whether he made the same remark to every one who crossed the border, in order to give him to understand that he and his movements were now a matter of observation and concern to the Russian government.

As a matter of fact, I imagine the Russian government takes the stranger within its gates much less seriously than he does himself. The visiting stranger likes to believe that he is giving no end of trouble to a dozen of the secret police; that, sleeping or waking, he is surrounded by spies. It adds an element of local color to his visit, and makes a good story to tell