ginia, in 1842, Captain Scales was appointed to the
Naval Academy by L.Q.C. Lamar. He was a classmate of Captain Clark,
later of the _Oregon_. When the war broke out, young Scales was in his
second year at the Academy, but like most of the other southern cadets
he resigned and offered his services to the South. When commissioned he
was the youngest naval officer in the Confederate service. Eight months
after the War was over, the _Shenandoah_ was still cruising in the South
Seas, looking for Federal merchantmen. In January 1866, somewhere south
of Australia, she overhauled the British bark _Baracouta_, taking her
for a Yankee man-o'-war flying the British flag as a ruse. Young Scales
was sent in command of a boarding party, and was informed by the skipper
of the _Baracouta_ that the Civil War had terminated months and months
ago. The _Shenandoah_ then made for Liverpool. In the meantime a Federal
court had ruled that her officers were guilty of piracy--a hanging
offense. Naturally, they did not dare return to the United States. Young
Scales went to Mexico and remained there two years before coming home.
When the Spanish War came, Captain Scales volunteered and was made
navigating officer of a naval vessel. At the time of our visit he was a
practising lawyer in Memphis, and was in command of Company A of the
Uniform Confederate Veterans, a body of old heroes who go out every now
and then and win the first prize for the best drilled organization
operating Hardee's tactics.

Another distinguished citizen of Memphis who has lively recollections of
the Civil War, is the Right Reverend Thomas F. Gailor, Episcopal Bishop
of Tennessee. Bishop Gailor, who succeeded the famous Bishop Quintard,
is my ideal of everything an Episcopal bishop--or I might even say a
Church of England bishop--ought to be. The Episcopal Church seems to me
to have about it more "style" than most other churches, and an Episcopal
bishop ought not to look the ascetic. He ought to be well filled out,
well dressed, well fed. He ought to have a distinguished appearance, a
ruddy complexion, a good voice, and a lot of what we call
"humanness"--including humor. All these qualities Bishop Gailor has.

In the bishop's study, in Memphis, hangs the sword of his father, Major
Frank M. Gailor, who commanded the 33rd Mississippi Regiment. Major
Gailor was killed while giving a drink of water to a wounded brother
officer, and that officer, though dying, directed a soldie