that sent a thrill of anticipation through us. It was:

"All hands clear ship for action!"

[Illustration: "CLEAR SHIP FOR ACTION!"]


CHAPTER IX.

CLEAR SHIP FOR ACTION.

The boatswain's mate's shrill piping and the long drawn out cry, "All
hands clear ship for action!" was not entirely unexpected. An unusual
activity on the part of the signal men on the flagship "New York" had
not escaped our notice, and when the summons to prepare for battle
echoed through the "Yankee's" decks it found us in readiness for prompt
obedience.

At the time the call sounded a number of us were standing in the port
waist idly watching the fleet and the shore. "Bill," a member of the
powder division, whose father is a prominent real estate broker of New
York, and whose great talent is for practical joking and general fun
making, was telling a story. As we scattered at the summons, he started
below with me. Even the circumstances could not prevent him following
his hobby, and he whispered as we hurried along:

"Say, Russ, this reminds me of a good story I once heard. There was a
man who was too lazy to live and the neighbors finally decided to bury
him. So they took him out to the village graveyard one morning before
day and----"