children. He is an admiral, every inch a seaman, commanding a devoted
loyalty from his staff and from the young men who are scouring the seas
with our destroyers. In France as well as in England the name Sims is a
household word, and if he chose he might be feted every day of the week.
He does not choose. He spends long hours instead in the quarters devoted
to his administration in Grosvenor Gardens, or in travelling in France
and Ireland supervising the growing forces under his command.

It may not be out of place to relate a characteristic story of Admiral
Sims, whose career in our service, whose notable contributions to naval
gunnery are too well known to need repetition. Several years ago, on a
memorable trip to England, he was designated by the admiral of the fleet
to be present at a banquet given our sailors in the Guildhall. Of course
the lord mayor called upon him for a speech, but Commander Sims insisted
that a bluejacket should make the address. "What, a bluejacket!"
exclaimed the lord mayor in astonishment. "Do bluejackets make speeches
in your country?" "Certainly they do," said Sims. "Now there's a
fine-looking man over there, a quartermaster on my ship. Let's call on
him and see what he has to say." The quartermaster, duly summoned, rose
with aplomb and delivered himself of a speech that made the hall ring,
that formed the subject of a puzzled and amazed comment by the newspapers
of the British Capital. Nor was it ever divulged that Commander Sims had
foreseen the occasion and had picked out the impressive quartermaster to
make a reputation for oratory for the enlisted force.

As a matter of fact, it is no exaggeration to add that there were and are
other non-commissioned officers and enlisted men in the service who could
have acquitted themselves equally well. One has only to attend some of
their theatrical performances to be assured of it.