to run
more swiftly than usual. It looked very different from its wont. Cynthia
and Neal, many times as they had been together on the Charles, had never
before been there in a storm.

"Everything is changed," thought Cynthia: "even my own river is
different. Will things ever be the same again? Oh, if Neal will only
give in when we get near home!"

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

A WAR FLEET IN TRAINING.

BY W. J. HENDERSON.

The fleet cruiser _Minneapolis_ lies straining at her arched cable off
Tompkinsville, Staten Island. The last of the flood tide is singing
around the outward curve of her powerful ram, and a gentle southerly
breeze is floating to leeward from her massive yellow smoke-stacks, two
columns of oily-brown smoke, for the signal "spread fires" flew from the
flag-ship hours ago, and the fleet is in readiness to get under way.
Down in the fire-room the coal-passers feed the giant furnaces that roar
for more. Water-tenders and machinists glide hither and thither watching
the boilers and the machinery. On the platforms beside the twin engines
stand engineer officers waiting for the signal to start the propellers.
Brass-work and steel-work glitter with the splendor of a new polish, and
under all rumbles the dull monotone of the dynamo.

On the bridge stand the Captain, the Executive Officer, the navigator,
the officer of the watch, the cadet whose duty it is to watch for
signals, and a signal boy. A seaman stands by the wheel, and a
quartermaster stands beside him. On the after-bridge stand the
junior-officer of the watch, a quartermaster, and two signal boys. About
the decks are hundreds of seamen ready to jump to their allotted
stations. All are silent, eager, alert.

"Signal, sir," says the cadet, referring to his fleet signal-book;
"137--get under way."

A word from the Executive Officer, and the steam-winch rolls in the
cable. A touch upon an electric button, a rattle of jangling bells
below, and the mighty engines turn slowly over, taking the strain off
the cable, and sending the ship up to her anchor. Another string of
flags runs to the signal-yard of the flag-ship.

[Illustration: SIGNALLING FROM THE FLAG-SHIP.]

"Form column of vessels," reads the cadet from the signal-book, "natural
order." A minute later the North Atlantic Squadron, Admiral Bunce
commanding, is steaming in single file out toward the Narrows, the
flag-ship _New York_ leading, followed by the _Minneapolis_, _Columbia_,
_Rale