The Van Buren press., 1898-09-24
PASSING OUT.
The Scene Along the New York River
Front When Warship Is
Steaming Away to Sea.


street when a war vessel is passing out,
down the East river from the navy
yard, is sure to be made aware of its
coming, though he may not yet have
caught sight of the yes. el, by the blow
ing of the whistles to salute her
0o-o-oo! Oo-o-oo! Do
o-oo!-soundrd in whatever pitch
the saluting boat may possess, in the
hoarse, low-pitched roar of the ocean
tug, the shrill whistle of the smaller
vessels, and all the varying tones of all
the steam crafts on the river, for they
all salute.
Then one would see men coming
from various places and crossing the
street to stand together along the
bulkhead to see the war vessel go by.
Some of the people go out to the end
of the piers to watch her there, and
there is broken fringe of people like
this all the way down to the Battery,
and there the sea wall is lined.
If one is standing say with those
who are lined up by the stringpiece
alonga bulkhead, waiting, he sees pres
emily the warship's nose coming ST.
lently into view past the end of the
shed upon the long, projecting pier,
and she passes on and by. Somebody
says as she comes into view: That's
the So-and-So," and he names the ship.
He knows her from the descriptions he
has read of her and the time set for
her sailing, just as many another man
does among those who stand there.
And there may be some comment on
her here and there, but the greatest
number simply stand silent as the ship
goes by.
But it is not silent on the river; it is
100000! Oo-o-oo! Oo-o-oo!
and
10000! 10000! Oo-o-oo!
from every throat afoat, blowing
greeting and godspeed from every
craft to their proud sister, the war;
ship, coming down the river; not sui
len, but sedate and smooth, at half
speed, and conveying to the sense Of
all the greater power, as of a tiger
crouching to spring.
And so she passes on, whistles blow
ing for her all the time, the fringe of
people along the bulloheads melting
away as she passes, except that here
and there one goes out still to the end
of the pier to get better and longer
view of her there. Somebody from
here says of a jaunty steam yacht
coming swiftly up the river, and that
has just passed the warship close at
hand:
'She didn't salute"
He is jealous of the warship'sTights.
Eyes, she did," says another, with
keener or more watchful eyes, and
equal thought for the warship, "she
dipped her colors."
Humph! Then they're all satisfied.
She keeps on till she comes to the
Battery, its sea wall lined with peo-
pie. Here she swings and heads south
and the people stand and watch her
till she grows dim. Then they drift
away and back to the seats in the park,
or back wherever they came from, and
the granite posts and the chains that
swing between them along the Battery
seawall that have seen so many people
looking seaward for so many ships
stand by themselves again.
But the people who have just turned
away don't forget the warship. She
goes south and pretty soon we read
of her in the papers, bombarding Span
ish forts or covering the landing of
United States troops-up-and-up as a
Yankee ship ought to be. Then every
man who saw her go out, who stood
along South street and saw her go by,
and turned away, perhaps, without a
word, says to somebody, he says it to
himself If to nobody else:
81 saw the So-and-So when she passed
out. IN Y, Sun.