The evening times. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1895-1902, 1898-04-14

vast and rolling cloud. casting a shadow
on the dancing sea The men passing to
and fro on deck must struggle against the
wind of her going; while on the distant.
sliding shore languid pillars Of smoke are
rising here and there into the Silly air.
But not yet does the official test OF speed
begin for the engines must race for half
an hour or more in order to touch their
full momentum.
BY that time the pouring smoke is laced
with red flame; the stern sucks down IN
til the hooded black ventiIators which
crowd the flush deck, a white reflection
shining upon each, seem running uphill
to the bows. The singing spray is flying
like a shadow of pebbles. and the mast
head quivers like a whip with the ire
mendous vibration. Down in the engine
room there reigns a shattering. cataclys
mic uproar; the indicating needles are all
a-quiver upon the brass-rimmed dals.
the artiiicers, grease from head to foot,
sluice oil and water upon the bearings
until the frantic engines race and ham,
mer in a binding mist. And down in the
stakehold. into which the air is driven
by whirling fans. the stokers sweat in a
storm of coaldust. With a trained fury
of energy the grimy men in goggles
never cease from heaving coal into the
white-hOt furnaces, raking and goading,
with the long iron slices, the intolerable
fires.
The first white buoy that marks the
mea sUred mile is reached; the two cor
responding poles set up ashore twinkle
one behind another, and are left far
astern in an instant-the second buoy is
passed, the second pair of poles merge
into one for a moment and Thirty point
four-eight-four. says the contractors
engineer stopwatch in hand complacent-
ly. He means that the destroyer is trav-
cling a fraction under thirty and one-half
knots or about thirty-five miles, in the
hour.
And thereafter. for three hours, the
swift and mighty little monster of de-
structiOn is tearing through the water at
top speed; until the thrilling, throbbing
jar is fit to shake her in pieces: the
tunnels are pillars of sea salt and con-
tinually out of the heart of that crash
ing turmoil there clangs a poding note of
imminent danger.
At last the hour strikes-the trial is
done-the tunnels cease to vomit smoke,
and the racked and straining vessel. re-
leased from that demoniac compulsion.
swims suddenly in n blessed peace. So
the destroyer glides homeward easily as
q swallow, and fetches up at the quay as
the chill Spring twilight is falling, and
the dockyard mateys are all trooping
home
Equipped with the insiduous torpedo.
armed with six quick-firing guns, and
outstripping any craft afloat. the destroy
er holds pace in the vanguard of the ar
mics of the sea.
Stand upon her leaping decks and be-
hold, beyond the smoke and fame of her
devouring breath, the quiet shore reced
ing into the gray sky. and consider the
millions of staid households dwellings
there in impertubable security, because
the queens ships keep the seas. The man
of business goes to and fro. fattens and
prcspers: the workman drinks his beer;
the artist diverts himself, each after his
kind; the politician packs his cards;
while the pious bells ring every day, and
the gentle ecclesiastic bestows abroad his
beneficent emotions. SO all runs in an
ordered round because the queens ships
keeps the broad and narrow seas.