"It's coming," exclaimed "Hay," joyfully. "The old 'Yankee' will see her
real baptism of fire to-day. 'Kid,' you young rat, you'll have a chance
to dodge shells before you are many hours older."

"You may get a chance to stop one," retorted the boy.

After a hurried meal, word to clear ship for action was passed, and the
"Yankee's" boys set to work with a vim. The task was done more
thoroughly than usual. The boats and wooden hatches were covered with
canvas, everything portable that would splinter was sent below, the
decks were sanded, and all the inflammable oils were placed in a boat
and set adrift for the "Justin," one of the colliers, to pick up.

The day seemed fitted for the work we had in hand. The sky was overcast,
and occasionally a rain squall would sweep from the direction of the
land, and envelop the fleet. It was not a cold, raw rain, like that
encountered in more northern latitudes in early summer, but a dripping
of moisture peculiarly grateful after the heat of the previous day.

Shortly before seven o'clock, the members of the crew were in readiness
for business. The majority had removed their superfluous clothing, and
it was a stirring sight to watch the different guns' crews, stripped to
the waist and barefooted, standing at their stations. There was
something in the cool, practical manner in which each man prepared for
work that promised well, and it should be said to the everlasting credit
of the Naval Reserves that they invariably fought with the calmness and
precision of veterans whenever they were called upon.

In the present case, there would have been some excuse for