are in darkness. It would never do to have this happen on shipboard. The light might be out for a long time, and it would not be noticed, and in that time dreadful things might happen. This is obviated by having two lamps in each lantern and an instrument called a "buzzer," which makes a fuss right behind the steersman if one of the lights in a lantern goes out. When the buzzer sounds, the man in charge simply turns on the spare light, and probably not five seconds are lost.

Step out now on the bridge. You will notice that it has three kinds of telegraphs. They consist of circular disks on standards about as high as the hand. Above the disks are handles on frames to which a dial is attached. Inside the disks lights may be placed. The glass surface is divided off into regular spaces on which different words are printed. By moving the handle back and forth the dial points to certain words, and a bell is rung. If the telegraph in use, for example, is that to the starboard engine-room, and the Captain has rung for "half-speed," he knows that his order is being recorded on a similar disk in that room, and that as soon as the engineer down there receives it, he will repeat the order to the bridge, so that the Captain may know instantly that the orders have been received and obeyed.

In addition to two of these telegraphs to the engine-rooms, there is one called the docking telegraph, and one called the steering telegraph. The docking telegraph is used in making fast to or leaving a pier, and the steering telegraph is for use in case the steering apparatus in the wheel-house should break down, and it should become necessary to steer the ship by hand, from the after part of the vessel. On the engine-room telegraph you read these marks: "stop," "stand by," "slow," "half-speed." On the docking telegraph you read: "hold on," "heave away," "not clear," "slow astern," "slow ahead," "all clear," "slack away," "let go." On the steering telegraph you read: "hard-a-port," "port," "steady," "course," "steady," "starboard," "hard-a-starboard." It is through the use of this docking telegraph that you understand why a big ship can come up to her pier in the most deliberate way, occupying sometimes an hour, without any apparent confusion, and, so far as the average person can see, without any one giving orders. The Captain stands on the bridge, and the first officer on the forward deck. The Captain can give orders to the first officer by a simple wave of the hand. He must talk to the officer in charge at the stern by the telegraph. This he is doing constantly, but no one hears him, and few realize what is going on. It is a hard task to bring 11,000 or 12,000 tons of iron up to a given spot, and stop it with its tremendous momentum within a few inches of a certain place. The docking telegraph helps to do this.

In looking about further you see two or three little spigotlike affairs turned under the rail. When you ask about them the Captain will tell you that they are electric arrangements to stop the whistle-blowing device, and to turn on the whistle direct from the bridge. In case of fog, and the whistle of another ship is heard, it is necessary to make certain signals. Turning one of these little spigots cuts off the regular whistle and turns on the sound as long and as often as the Captain desires. After the danger is passed the spigots are turned back under the rail, and the electrical device in the wheel-house continues its regular seven seconds blast. You see on each side also sockets in which to place the lights that are burned, or the bombs that are exploded at sea. When passing ships at night, the St. Louis, for example, burns one red and two blue lights. That tells the other ship the name of the St. Louis. There is a standard on the bridge from which an explosive rocket can be sent up. The noise from such a rocket can be heard six miles, and the rocket is set off by a lanyard, like a cannon.

THE DAILY OBSERVATION.

These are the appliances that you see on the bridge. There is constant work there. The log is being kept all the time; the floating compass in the wheel-house is compared with the standard compass outside every half-hour. When a change in course is made, all the compasses on the ship are compared. Every morning at daylight the whip's position is worked out by the north star, and every day at 11.30 o'clock the dead reckoning of the position of the ship is handed to the Captain by the junior officers. All the officers are required to be on the bridge ten minutes later when the daily observation is made. Day and night there is constant activity there.

"How do you know in a fog," I asked of Captain Randle, "which way the sound of another vessel comes from?"

"I stand square in the centre of the bridge with my face exactly to the front," he replied; "and I have trained my sense of hearing so accurately that I can tell which ear the wave sound strikes first as it rolls by. It is rare that we mistake the direction from which a sound comes."

This shows how delicate and at the same time how responsible the task of running a big steamship is.

A FLORAL BALL.

BY EMMA J. GRAY.

Why not give one, girls, on your next birthday night?

The entire house, including the halls, should be trimmed with asparagus and Japanese lanterns. From the drawing-room ceilings suspend inverted cones of asparagus, and as pendants from these fasten Japanese lanterns. String evergreen around the stair bannisters and halls. Indeed, make of your house, including the dining-room, a sort of fairy bower, on which the Japanese lanterns at happy intervals cast light and color.

The orchestra should be hidden in a tiny forest, and their music should be jolly, light, and pretty. Among the numbers have the "Dance of the Flowers" by Tschaikowsky. Follow this with several flower dances. Example, "The Sweet-Pease Waltz." The girls' costumes should be white tarlatan, effectively trimmed with sweet-pease. The boys should have sweet-pea boutonnières.

The Pansy Cotillion.—For this dance wear crêpe lissè, tarlatan—indeed, any flimsy material you choose, but it must be one of the pansy colors; and as the pansy has so many shades of brown, yellow, purple, deep rose, etc., the variety which would mingle as the several figures are given would result in a kaleidoscopic effect of color and beauty.

Perhaps a few solo dances could be arranged. If so, have a Cowslip dance, when the little maiden should be frocked in pale yellow, or the Heliotrope, with a frock of lilacs. Another might dance the Forget-Me-Not, and wear a gown of blue. While still another dance might be termed the Water-Lily, which would necessitate a frock of white and gold, and the blue and pink water-lilies are comparatively rare. Whichever flower is represented should be worn either on the hair or on the dress.

Then should come the Wild-Flower Minuet, when daisies, buttercups, clover, chiccory, violets, honeysuckle, and other wild flowers could vie with each other in the stately, graceful movements. Follow the minuet with the Butterfly promenade and dance. In this a large number should engage, as it is quite proper there should be butterflies flitting from flower to flower. Whatever dance is decided to appropriate to the butterflies, they should select their own partners from any of the flowers they please. The butterflies will wear almost as many colors as the pansies, and silver, gold, or other butterflies should be fastened on their shoulders or on other parts of their costume.

THE ATTRACTION OF LEVITATION.

BY H. G. PAINE.