Morning journal and courier., 1893-03-18
There was Missouri-bred Col. Who swore that by the etol. He would drink a canteen Full of rawest benxine, An ha'a now in tha raOiaua infol
wAKEMAN,s wANDRRINGs.

wAKEMAN's wANDKRINGs.
 odd Incidents or Foreign Travel and
 Observatfon-There is a Pathetic Side to Travel-A Ceremony Of Leav- Ing Port Bringing the Mist 10 Land-
 ward Looking Eyes-BrutaI Celeri- ty of Spanish Military Vengeance "Heart-Sobso From Erin - Early Moving Proeessions to the English Factories.
 LONDON, March 6. To the Editor of the JOURNAL AND COURIER: There is always a deeply pathetic side to travel, free as one's heart may be from sighs and shadows. Many times as you may have witnessed 1t, there is little drs- ma always performed as the great ocean steamers leave the port of New York which brings the mist to your lsndwsrd looking eyes.
 If you are first tripper" 1t will thrill you deeper still. You have perhaps won dered what that bronzsd-faced man in cit izen's clothing was doing up there among the bespsngled officers upon the bridge. He seems the quietest fellow on board. His eyes are singling ont the row of chan nel buoys, or, with a glass rapidly sesn- ming the lower Jersey shores and the gleaming lines of the Long Island sands, or again glanoing at this point or that along the sea horizon. His is an anxious face. The lines in it unconsciously pic ture the human look that tells of some- thing lost, or of great darger that there may be. have seen men like him stand where he is with that same look, and the precipitation dropping from their faces in streams in the coldest of weather.
 This man is not the ships captain; but while he stands there, now and then giv- ing a low-toned order, he is absolutely the commander of the ship. He is New York pilot, detailed from the lower Wall street pilot office to take your ship to sea. In ordinary cases his fee would be based upon the ships tonnage. With the larger ocean steamships Bumped" price is made. He must remain aboard until Sam dy Hook is passed, and as much further out as the steamer captain desires.
 If 1t bs pleasant weather when you are abreast of Sandy Hook you will notice a row-boat, yawl-built, manned by two men, putting out from the lightship anchored between your steamer and the Hook. This lightship is simply New York har- bor pilot-boat. by pilot regulations made to do her "turn" of "month's stand" in this unsavory, though often exciting, berth. Her crew are pilots 'prentIcss get ting their first lessons and experience at pilots' duties and hsrdships. The boat being rowed briskly towards your steamer in the channel Is called 8 pilots punt" ;" and the two oarsmen are knottily built prentice lads of eighteen or twenty years of age. At the same moment the punt hesds for the steamer the latter's engires slow down. The punt and the steamer l meet st the point of an exact right-angle. Lines are cast; the punt made fact to float alongside the ship's port side; and the rope ladder is lowered.
 Meantime the pilot has resigned his post on ths bridge. The chief officer immedl- stely takes his place. Stepping to the | chsrt-room the pilot certiies in the log book that the ship has duly cleared the | port of New York; the ships commander certifes to the pitot's fee, which pilotage | Is paid by the New York agents of the II | ''dropped" into the waiting punt. By the | ships rail stands the purser, or the mall | steward. A thousand addenda good-byes have been hastily written, sealed and stamped, and hundreds of telegrsms indi- ted, between the docks and the Hook. These, the last slender thread between land and home and the unalte-able ihslity
 of your voyage, are let down by line to l the pilot, who takes them as with uncon i scious tenderness in his arms
 In another instant the ships engines gre
 again laundering. The pilots punt shoots
 straight for the lightship. The officer or
 the bridge mods to the bostswsin, whose
 shrill whistle "strikes the fsgs." The | quartermasters bring down the ships three
 iags-the "blue Peter" or calling day flag
 from the foremsst, the owners or "house'
 flag from the mainmast, and the ensigr
 from the gaH-as & dead shot hunter will
 bring some gay bird of passage from iti
 flight quiveringly to his feet. A farewell
 cheer rings out over the port side after ths
 departing pilot Your voyage is now fire
 vooably begun.
 "El desertarl' "El detertall' were thS
 low-toned ejaoulations I heard all about
 me one April morning, in 1SS6, in tbt
 cabin of the ferryboat "Edouard Fesser,
 as 1t left the Regls eide for the two-mils
 trip across Havana bay to the city. The
 cabin was we'll filled, and in @ moment
 there came fussipg and fuming through
 the narrow passage to the forward cabin
 Spanish sergeant and @ guard having
 in charge a man of most pitiable sp
 pearanoe. I made room quickly So that
 two seats were vacant near me In which
 the guard and his prisoner sat, the lat
 ter next to me, while the sergeant, bear
 ing @ paper with dangling seal, strodt
 forward bit, pompous with the impor
 tanoe of his mission and charge.
 These ferries carry the gsyest of crowdl
 between Havana and the beautiful su
 burbs to the east, but the entrance o
 the party hushed the laughter and pleas
 ant sallies of men and women instantly All present seemed painfully exertinl themselves to ignore the presence of th' little group, but every one from time t, { time stole secret glances at the deserter and, well for humanity, not 6 hard lool
 fell upon him. Some old priests nea seemed to be moving their lips as if Il prayer for him, and behind many fan could see the face of some beautiful ssnor
 or @ senorita in tears.
 knew we'll enough what it all meant having once been e soldier. But did no
 at once catch the full import of the bruta celerity of Spanish military revenge 3 Shortly the guard closed fippsnt recits
 to passenger near him, to the effect tha , the man had deserted from the forces a 3 Moro castle some weeks before, after 2 tremendous fosging for some slight in
 fraction of discipline, had got SO far as tn |, Jaruco mountains, where he baffisd pun : suit for some time, but finally had bee run down by blood hounds. "Ah, yes," he airily concluded, "he vii ;, really not even need breakfast again. Tn 7 consejo de guerra (court-martiaD Is alread ). awaiting his arrivsll"
 The deserter was but boy. He had
 fair face, too, round. almost boyisb, eve @ through the hunted look that had mad @ him an old man in terror and desperai