The San Francisco call., 1898-01-09

hI can do is just to lash your
 v U self to a stanchion and stay
 there. Nothing else is the least good"
 Thus, the typical British tar, bronzed and bearded, comfortably stirring a bowl of steaming cocoa in the little triangular forecastle of the Virago, the little English torpedo catcher, that lay in the harbor last week, and now on her way to China via the north.
 Though the man was in all respects the regulation sailor, wearing seaman gunner's badge, the forecastle was not at all shipshape and man-of-war style The blue jacket looked strangely out of keeping with his surroundings. He should have been in the foretop of full rigged ship of the old school, post which was coveted by every true sailor, and only gained by the smartest.
 Instead of this, thanks to modern sci ence, with its marvellous mechanical developments, the sailor was sitting in the hold of a vessel literally filled with machinery. There were no spars to climb, no sails to furl or ropes to splice. none of the ordinary seamen- like duties to perform. The forecastle, though cozy enough, with a cheery lit tie stove burning in the center, lacked the spacious orderliness of the mess deck of an old fashioned man-of-war. In fact, it had a distinctly mercantile look, with it's small round port holes and bare iron walls.
 Nothing but the hunks were missing, for the man-of-war sailor, unlike his brother in the merchant service, never uses a fixed bed place. And the rules of the service demand that a ham mock shall be slowed away during the day, though, as there are no hammock nettings, it is a mystery how they man age to put the beds out of the way on this peculiar vessel.
 You see, in this here craft, it's no use going on deck in bad weather" the sailor went on, in the intervals be- tween sips. There's nothing for a sailor to do, and if there was she kicks about so that you couldn't do it. Why, If I put my sea boots and oilskins on and started aft, by the time I reach the other end of her I'm as black as a stoker just come off watch
 The sailor, it may be noted, has a supreme contempt for the stoker; looks upon him as quite an inferior being, though as a matter of fact the stoker is the more necessary individual of the two. And on the Virago there are ac- tually more stokers than sailors, more engineers than officers.
 If you look around the boat you will easily see why this must be so. For the greater part of her length she is nothing but machinery, just a little space at each end being left for the ac- commodation of officers and crew. The deck of bare iron plates is absolutely devoid of ornament, the open iron rail- ing offers no protection from wind and sea, the waves roll on board one side and off on the other just as they please
 There are little round holes, like coal chutes, all over the deck. and through these narrow openings you must squeeze to get below. Even the commander has to go down a hole to his berth, and then shut the lid tightly after him for fear of being swamped.
 Not a pleasant craft to live on board of, even in the finest weather; yet the officers, with professional pride, speak most highly of her be- haviOr on the long voyage out from England. If she did take plenty of