light, but as well of the bright nights. With the rare atmosphere, the moon has an unwonted brilliance. It is not uncommon to be able to read by the light of the full moon, and no more witching enjoyment is afforded anywhere than to ride or drive or row or swim under a sky of blue, illuminated by a moon which seems to float in a sea of light, while the airs, as soft as silken plush, brush the cheek. So bright, indeed, is the moon that scarcely a night passes when the silver ball shines full aloft, b t a lunar rainbow may be seen from lanai or roof garden. These elements make the charm of the tropic. Beauty of surroundings, peacefulness of environment, the constant possibility of drives or walks or rides, day or night, coupled with the opportunity to indulge in every sport 365 days of the year. Combined with this perfection is the touch with the outside world through the cable, making of the mid-sea islands, nirvana for the tired, the ill, the sated, the pleasure seeker. To-day a sombrous gray-spun roral veil, Which cheerless falls from some unbidden source, That cross its chilling, vap'rous-laden course. Which baffles oft, the mariner afloat, Who seeks to guide his white-winged craft aright. 'Tis noon, gold rays illumine land and sea, All has been alchemized by Nature's art. BY CHARLES WARREN STODDARD Being a reply to an obituary notice by the Editor of the Overland Monthly. Cambridge, Mass. April 29, 1904. Dear Friend, Whose Name I Know Not: In the Easter Number of the Overland Monthly you have strewn the flowers of rhetoric upon my not unpremeditated grave. How can I thank you for a kindness-a loving kindness-the breath of which is as fragrant as the odor of sanctity? I was indeed dead, but am alive again! In a spirit of tranquility, the memory of which shall sweeten every hour of the new life I have entered upon, I received the Last Sacrament of the Church. Do you know how one feels under such circumstances? I feel as if I had been the unworthy recipient of some Order of Celestial Merit. I know how awkward it is for one to re-appear upon the stage when one's friends have said their last adieus-but it was not my fault that I arose again from the dead and have clothed myself with this fleshly robe and am in my right mind, as all who have seen me hasten to assure me. It is a reincarnation, with a memory richly stored a memory that embraces the details of a life led in some other, more shadowy world. The perspective of my past is glorified-I had almost said sanctified-but I am painfully conscious of the conspicuous anti-climax in the foreground. Anti-climaxes are fateful and hateful, yet this anti-climax I must wrestle with even unto the end. It may be, it must be, be, that being spared, I am spared for a purpose. In this hope I seek consolation, for I have unwittingly undone what was so prettily done for me. My anticipated taking-off was heralded to slow music, and had I not missed my cue, my exit should have been the neatest act in all my life's drama. I beg forgiveness for having spoiled the consistencies, and offer the only apology that is left to offer -the prayer that I may be enabled to live up to my epitaph. I know not what use you can make of this letter, unless you make it public in order that my readers may know that I am I-and not another posing as the ghost of my old self, and that I am yours, faithfully, affectionately and gratefully, Charles Warren Stoddard. FTER the third week in June, Α A 1898, serious fighting had ceased around Camp McCalla, the foothold won by our forces on the outer bay of Guantanamo, Cuba. The marine garrison was securely entrenched, the dense jungle in the immediate neighborhood of the camp well cleared of the enemy, frequent shelling of the woods on the northern and western borders of the bay by the Marblehead, Dolphin, St. Paul, Suwanee, and other vessels, had put a stop to the occasional pot shots by lurking guerrillas at the vessels at anchor in the harbor, and the place had become a snug haven for the colliers and supply ships of the blockading fleet. The Spanish troops had fallen back on the town of Caimanera, a short distance up the river of the same name, which emptied into Guantanamo Bay. There they could be reached only by guns of the heavier calibres. The warships in the harbor occasionally dropped a few shells into the town at long range, but it was an unsatis row one, with detachments of Spanish troops on both sides. Fortunately, they had no field artillery, else the undertaking would surely have had a different ending than it did. Captain B. H. McCalla of the Marblehead, the senior officer present, was a man who had never been deterred by obstacles, and he was ably seconded by Commander H. W. Lyon of the Dolphin, a cool, gallant and skillful officer, whose splendid conduct as executive officer of the ill-fated Trenton during the Samoan hurricane of 1889, in which that vessel was lost, had already won him enviable laurels. A decision was promptly reached, and June 22d was selected as the day for the attempt. Early that morning the launches of both ships were equipped for the work. To the stern of each launch was attached one end of a small boat chain, connecting the two, and of such a length as to sink fairly deep Waldon Fawcett, Photo. beneath the surface of the water, and at the same time permit the boats to be sufficiently far apart to sweep a channel plenty wide for the warships to pass up. In the bow of each launch was a one-pounder rapid-fire gun, and in addition to the regular crews, there were two officers, a machinist, with nippers, wrenches, and other tools, and a couple of riflemen. Bandages, tourniquets and flasks of stimulants were also taken along, grim reminders of the possibilities ahead. About 9 a. m. the start was made, each launch towing a smaller boat -a dinghey-for use in lifting the mines when found. Meanwhile, other preparations were made on the two ships. They were always kept cleared for action. during those troublous times, but on this occasion, threatened with musketry fire at short distance, a few extra precautions were taken to protect the crews of the exposed guns, |