The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1899-12-10
GREATEST OF DAYS.
Sailors and Soldiers
DelightinC elebrat-
ing Christmas
IN ALL PARTS OF the WORLD.
Customs Dear to the Hearts
Of the Boys in
Blue.
IN ALL PARTS OF THE WORLD.

Thanksgiving is a day Of some cir
cumstance in the American army and
navy. So is the Fourth of July. But
Christmas is the great day. Wherever
there is an American man-of-war there
is sure to be an American Christmas.
Swinging to her Inud-hook in the har-
Dor of Montevideo or Shanghai, or
wallowing in the teeth of a typhoon,
no United States warship ever neglects
Christmas. Crossing the equator, all
hands sweltering on deck in white uni
forms. or cautiously blowing the scrap
ice of northern seas. all hands freezing
in pea-coats, always shrills the whistle
of the gangway bo'sun's mate on the
afternoon of Christmas eve, and always
issues from his lips with husky reso-
nance the transmitted command:
"All ha-a-nds dress ship"
Whereupon, in deep surging sea, or
quiet coral hhrbor, all hands LAY OFF,
from the spar deck to yards, ridge ropes
and fighting tops, and begin the work
of decking the ship out in her gala
finery. From below the signal quar-
termaster. who is generally a deep
water man, almost from his cradle, di-
reefs the work. The men attire the
ship with the pains and pride of new
mothers appareling new babies. They
string the flags of the world from fore
to mizzenmast. and give each banner
little dabs of adjustment, like girls set
ti7t5 fibbon bows right. In port they
pile gun and spar decks with green
stuff from shore. In tropical ports the
cold evergreens of the north are sup
planted by towering palms and tree
like ferns. whole sailing launch loads
of them brought from outrageous
tropical beaches, so that the decks look
like ball rooms, and the dangerous
spirit Of the southland obliterates the
memory Of the raw, white-mantled
north. The waste of turquoise of en-
erald waters forms a noble color basis
for the ships streaming mass of bril-
liant bunting when the ship is at sea.
EXCHANGING GREETINGS.
Then. the white American man-of-
war. thus draped. the starry jack tlut-
tering from the nose of her, the big hol-
iday stars and stripes Tapping at the
mizzen. meets, say, a British cruiser
in the middle of the Indian ocean, the
English boat equally ornate fore and
aft. Alongside each other, the ships
pause like a pair Of little boys in their
Sunday clothes, sizing each other up.
The signal flutters from the signal-yard
VI S1CL. 6dCe On edTIH, ROOQ Will
men," From both decks the command,
"All hands cheer ship!" and all hands
on both vessels have manned the yards
in jiffy. From each ship three huge
cheers and a tiger. Then the clang
of engine-room bells, the dulled rum
Bile Of screws, and both ships are pitch
ing on to the purple horizon, the signal,
"A Merry Christmas" still futtering
from each foreyard.
This no doubt ic T215& an q
Christmas at sea the men forward are
pretty likely to have little more than
salt horse and cracker hash for their
Christmas dinners. So the blue Jacket
of the American navy likes to spend
his Christmas in port. Any port. Sal
lormen are unpreiudiced. There is fun
to be had in any old portland food
stockings cannot be hung up very we'll
for there is too much jumping in and
out of hammocks, going to stand
watches and turning in from the same
Hang up stockings in the navy? Sure
ly! There is something pathetic in the
loneliness of new regulation socks one
sees hanging from hammock hooks or
the berth decks of American men-of-
war on Christmas eve. In the morn
ing they are found to be filed for the
most part, with fine. dusty coal, scraps
OF saltwater soap, or cans of bright
work paste. But the blue jacket who
hangs up his socks is satisfied. He has
hung them up, anyhow, and for time
perhaps, his mind is suffused with the
vague, distant memory of tin horns
breaking the stiffness of other Christ
mas mornings.
CHRISTMAS IN PORT.
In port, the bIuejacket jumps into hi,
mastering uniform as soon as he turn.
out on Christmas morning. for he ha.
little work to do. At o clock he falls
in with his division on the spar decl
and stands the commanding officer.
inspection. Then it is all over for the
Gay. The sailornan is at liberty to loaf
Breakfast on Christmas morning on
warship is a bagatelle. The men TAX,
cup OF black coffee, but many of then
decline to eat. The time has not come
By the time noon mess gear" il
shrilled by the bo' sun mate they hav,
taken a reef or two in their trouser;
and are standing by for the meal O
the year.
Christmas dinner on a man-of- war
forward, is fine meal when the shil
is in port. One gets worse at preten
tious hostelries ashore. Plum duff il
only an item, A reporterialism-"th ia
BILE groans." 1t does, literally, though
for the mess table is swung upoI
creaking chains. The tables are sup
piled with beer. The talk, if not We
neered, is crisp and bright. Beer con.