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The mess-rooms and galley are also located on this deck. On the next deck down the crew is quartered. Two large rooms with bunks arranged in tiers along one side and across the end of each are assigned to them. In one of these the firemen have their headquarters; in the other, the deck-hands and oilers.

I will admit that these rooms are not delightful. At times they are disgustingly dirty and evil-smelling. But such conditions are due to the men themselves, who make no great effort to keep the ventilators open or to keep their bunks clean. Five minutes' work a day on the part of each of them and closer attention to personal cleanliness would keep their rooms in very respectable shape. Even as it is, I have seen many bunk-houses for ranch hands and railway section men that were infinitely worse.

The American law requires that men on ships be allowed at least five quarts of fresh water a day. Any of the men could have had ten times that amount if he had wanted it; but I am confident that, aside from the firemen, who occasionally cleaned off the coal-dust that accumulated on them in the stoke-hole, most of the men did not use more than two or three quarts a day. I mention this merely to emphasize the fact that the sailors found on steamers of to-day are not of the highest type.

The food served the men was exactly the same as that which was served the officers. The galley was amidships, the officers' and crew's mess-rooms being, respectively, to port and starboard of it. The men ate at the same time as the officers, each meal being divided into two "tables," in order that men should be on duty all the time. The food was good-surprisingly good, I thought, after having read stories of dubious seafaring diet-and not once did I see any attempt to give the officers more or better food than was given the men.

The work on such a ship is not laborious. The firemen have the most trying job. They are divided into three watches, so that they work four hours and are off eight. Brawny fellows, quite accustomed to the heat, they do not seem to find their duties very difficult.

The deck-hands work at odd jobs about the ship. They paint when the weather is fine; they wash down the decks when that is necessary; if coal is to be shifted in the bunkers, or some similar work is to be done, they are given the job, but are paid an addi

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tional eighteen cents an hour for it. add that on Sunday at sea only the most necessary work is done.

On the arrival of the ship in port the men's work becomes easier. They have nothing to do with loading or unloading the ship. Droves of stevedores attend to that. Occasionally members of the crew are called upon to run the hoisting-engines; more often they are not. Of course the firemen are on duty; but little steam is being used, so they find their task easier. The law requires that no man shall be called upon to work more than nine hours a day while in port, so the sailors find time to amuse themselves ashore.

Something happened on the trip from Philadelphia to Havana which shows quite plainly the type of man so often found on board such ships. It also shows how the companies treat their men.

One of the firemen who had signed on for the trip got into a drunken brawl in Philadelphia the day before the ship sailed. In the course of the argument some one hit him on the jaw with such enthusiasm that his jaw was badly broken. He knew that it was sore, but he did not know that it was broken. He could not eat, but he laid that to the fact that most of his teeth were loose from the blow, and he went to work believing that he would be all right in a day or so. His jaw didn't get better, and he got nothing to eat all the way to Havana except the soup the cook made for him. For nine days that fellow stood every minute of his watch whenever it came. For forty-eight hours we were tossed about by a Cape Hatteras storm, and he was before his furnace doors every minute of his time. He was much surprised when the quarantine officer in Havana told him his jaw was broken. He thought that he was getting better because his teeth were once more becoming tight.

As soon as it was discovered that the man was so seriously injured he was sent to a hospital, where his jaw was set. The ship paid the bill. When the man came back with his head done up in plaster, he could not work, but the captain refused to leave him. He was taken aboard, and was brought back to Philadelphia on the ship's return trip. It must be borne in mind that this man was not injured in the performance of his duties. He was not even injured aboard ship. Yet better treatment could scarcely have been accorded him, once it was found that he was really hurt.

On the British, Swedish, and Danish ships

I found conditions very similar to those on the American. The Swede and the Dane were both old. Neither of them had electricity or sanitary plumbing, but, aside from these differences, the crew's quarters were as good as they were on the American. The officers' quarters were immeasurably better than they were on the American, but no other difference was apparent.

It was noticeable that the men had no mess attendant to serve their meals. They called at the galley, and carried their food forward to the forecastle, where they waited on themselves. Inasmuch as their meals were not made up of many courses, that difference was not as important as it was noticeable. Their food was good. If there was any difference between the food on the American ship and that on the foreign ships I could not see it.

On different ships different systems prevail. On the American ship, for instance, there were six firemen in watches of four hours, with two men on duty at the same time. On the British ship there were nine firemen, working three at a time in four-hour watches. On the Swede there were four men making up four watches, each man serving alone for three hours. On the Dane there were five men, in one-man watches of three hours. Of course there was considerable difference in the size of the ships, the Swede and the Dane being smaller than the other two.

Ships and the conditions prevailing on ships are essentially the same. It is impossible that radically different conditions could prevail. There are differences, of course, and where they exist they are in favor of the American. At the same time, these differences are neither so numerous nor so marked as to place the American sailor in a class by himself.

The Seaman's Act has done much for our sailors. It has done so much that even the ship-owners, who fought tooth and nail. against the passage of the La Follette Bill, are now largely in favor of the resulting Act. It would seem that they are nearly as much in favor of it as are the rions. But the owners, and the unions as well, even though they realize the good the law has done, are able to see flaws in it. No one, except an occasional extremist, wants the law either repealed or left in force exactly as it is. The unfortunate part of the matter is that those who wish it amended have not as yet agreed as to just what amendments should be made. Some of the broader-minded men of the

unions are opposed, among other things, to the ease with which sailors can draw their money. That sounds strange, but there is a reason behind it. The sailor's life is monotonous. He takes long voyages, during which he has nothing to amuse him. Consequently, when he arrives in port, he immediately casts about for some way to make up for lost time. His amusements must be fast and furious. He finds it possible to draw

half of what he has earned. He draws it. Half of what he has earned may not be a very large sum, so when he goes ashore bent on amusing himself he has no great difficulty in spending all or the greater portion of his money. It is in order to protect the sailor against himself that this provision of the law is suggested for amendment.

Last October a sailor was arrested in Philadelphia for not supporting his wife. He had just signed on a ship bound for Europe, and was to get good pay, as wages go on shipboard. He had a real hard-luck story, and it seemed to the Judge that circumstances had militated against the man. After giving the fellow a good talking to, the Judge allowed him to go. The man promised to bring home all the money he earned on the trip. Because of some one's oversight, his wages were not attached for his wife's support. He sailed, and was delayed in Europe for five months. His ship was held up on account of some difficulty, and most of the time was in a British port. Owing to the restrictions put on ships' crews at the present time, our man was hardly allowed to go ashore during all of that time. All of this resulted in a considerable saving on the part of the man in question.

In February his ship returned. She sailed to Boston, and was in port there eleven days. The day she arrived our man asked for $20. It was given him, and he proceeded to enjoy himself as he had not done for months. When he returned to the ship, the money was gone. He could get no more until five days had elapsed. At the end of that time, however, he got more, and spent it as he had the first. In another five days he got still more, and before the ship sailed he had spent that. From Boston the ship sailed to Philadelphia, arriving there after an absence of six months. The questionable hero was paid off, receiving but $152, which was all there was left of the $300 he had earned. In that time his wife, who had been forced to get work, had saved up more than half as much as he had, despite

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the fact that she had to pay for board and

room.

This story was told me by the man himself; and I have heard many similar stories, each one proving that the average sailor cannot be trusted to take any sensible care of the money he earns. He does not seem to appreciate the value of money, for all that he works so hard for it.

The principal objection that officers seem to have to the present law is that the ease with which men may leave the ship tends toward decreasing discipline. If a man dislikes any little action taken by his officers, he may go ashore at the next port. Consequently, officers find it necessary to handle their men with gloves in order to keep their ships manned.

The landsman may find it difficult to realize the necessity for strict discipline on shipboard. It is hard to appreciate the dangers that exist at sea without being familiar with the reasons for their existence. Often the safety of the ship and the lives of every one on board depend on careful attention to little things. It is then that the sailors who are not well disciplined are likely to fail their officers.

It so happened that because of several days of thick weather the officers of the ship I was on were unable to get an observation from the time we passed Cay Frances, Cuba, until we arrived off Cape Hatteras, and as we approached the Cape we ran into a gale. We had sailed seven or eight hundred miles without being able to check our position carefully, and we could not tell accurately where we were. Fortunately, the captain's "sense of location" told him that we were getting uncomfortably close to Cape Hatteras. He sent a man aft to "heave the lead," ordering him to report every ten or fifteen minutes.

The man went aft to the patent lead, and reported several times. The soundings told the captain but little as to our exact position, so the man was ordered to continue his reports; "and be careful," the captain told him, to keep the wire from getting twisted, or it will break and you will lose the lead."

The man went aft again, and failed to report for some time. The captain finally sent the second mate aft to see what the trouble was. The mate found that the man had carelessly let the wire get twisted, and had lost the lead, together with most of the wire. A considerable delay was experienced while

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another lead was secured and fastened to the windlass. The mate attended to the soundings this time, and had no more than hoisted the patent lead aboard when he dashed back to the bridge with the startling announcement that we were in but five fathoms of water. The ship was immediately put about; but it took us three hours to steam out of danger against a sixty-mile wind that was blowing. Another ten or fifteen minutes might have piled us up on Diamond Shoal-and our undisciplined seaman could easily have been the cause.

I fully believe that the difference in the wages received by American sailors and those sailing under European flags has very little to do with the failure of American ships to enter more widely into world trade. The conditions in the Pacific, where our competitors pay their men as little as eight dollars a month, may have a greater effect. With those conditions I am not familiar. However, it seems certain that owners whose ships operate in competition with European ships do not object to the slightly greater pay, given American seamen. On a freight ship of thirty-five hundred tons, carrying a crew of twenty-six men, the American owner would pay but little more in wages than a British owner of a ship of the same size in the same trade.

But, as I said, the American owner does not object to the difference in wages. He does object, however, to the conditions that arise sometimes because of desertions when his ship is in some out-of-the-way port where it is difficult to ship more men. Under the present law deserters may not be retaken. They are entitled to one-half of the pay due them, and may openly go ashore with their belongings.

During March an American ship entered a sugar port in Cuba. It was at the height of the sugar season, and the mills were running night and day. It was difficult to get men, and the mills were offering $60 a month for firemen. The firemen on the American ship heard about the extraordinary wages offered by the sugar mill, and they immediately went ashore. They had been on the ship but six days, having come directly from Philadelphia, and so they were not out much when the captain refused to pay them more than half of what they had earned. On the ship they had been getting $45 a month. Of course with this they got their board and room. But the $60 offer proved too attractive for them

to resist, and, without thinking of the cost of living ashore, they left. The ship was without a fireman, and for nine days she waited before men were finally secured. In that time the delay cost the ship's owners $10,800, and four of the firemen who had left came aboard the day the ship sailed, asking to be taken on for the return trip.

It seems undoubtedly true that the Caucasian is leaving the sea. More and more is he being supplanted by the Asiatic. Probably the principal reason for the change is the very great difference between the Oriental and the Occidental standards of living. The conditions in the forecastles of the few Asiaticmanned ships I have been on defy description. The food is apparently as different from that given European and American crews as are the quarters, and the pay the men receive bears as great a contrast.

The pay of an American seaman may be from $30 to $50 a month-seldom more; that of a European will run, in normal times, slightly less; but the pay of the Asiatic is more likely to be $8 or $9 a month. Even when large crews are carried, and that is often necessary because of the inefficiency of the men, the cost both in wages and in food is actually less than in American or European ships carrying one-half the number of men.

Many European ships, particularly under the British flag, are now being manned by Asiatics. I am not well informed as to the advantages and disadvantages of the Asiatic. crew. It seems likely, however, either that the advantage of shipping Asiatics with their lower standards of living makes for betterpaying ships or that Europeans are increasingly hard to get. Being a believer in efficiency, I prefer to accept the latter explanation.

A few years ago, when ocean freight rates barely kept alive the companies that were in the business, there were two directly competing companies in England. One had been run always with an eye to cutting expenses. When they built ships, they gave them no more and no better equipment than was necessary. When they manned them, they secured their men at as little cost as possible. The other company did things differently. When they built a ship, they gave her everything that was necessary and a great many things that were merely useful. They put heavy derricks on her decks; they made her working parts strong; they paid their men well. The two companies ran about even for some time. Then freight rates took another

drop. At about the same time the ships of the first company began going to the shipyards for repairs. They were kept running, but occasionally they were laid up for one day or two days, or three, because of some minor trouble. All of this time the ships of the second company were kept going on schedule, never stopping, never wasting time. Finally the company with the cheap ships went to the wall; they could not pay the interest on their investment. But the company with the good ships actually managed to make money. They didn't make much, but they didn't fail. Their superior equipment, their better-paid men, and their ability to keep going paid the interest on the investment and a little in the way of dividends.

It is thus with American shipping. At the present time every one is making money. But the present time is not typical of conditions at sea. When rates have dropped, and all the ships now tied up in the harbors of the world are once more sent out into world trade, it will be only those ships that can keep going that will make money. Whether ships are forced to stay in port because of some mechanical trouble or because their men desert when men are hard to get will make no difference. The lines that cannot keep their ships going all the time are the lines that will fail. Then, when such conditions again arise, the American owner will have reason to call Congressional attention to the fact that ships cannot be successfully operated when the seamen are permitted to break their contracts with impunity.

The present Seamen's Act is good. To advocate its repeal would be to advocate trouble. Those who advocate its amendment are desirous of improving it. Do not give the sailor the right to break his contract; instead of that, control the contract he signs. Allow him to go ashore, if he so desires, in ports of the United States, but insist on his return from foreign ports with the ship he entered in. Allow him to draw half of what he has earned at any time, provided that amount does not exceed a certain small sum, unless the captain is convinced that there is actual need for more. Assist the sailor wherever it is possible; he needs assistance. But remember that one way to assist the sailor is to assist in the growth of the merchant marine, in order that a greater demand for men will lead to better pay and better treatment of

men.

You

Vannes, Morbihan, France, March 15, 1916. OU can imagine that we have little else in our minds at this moment but Verdun. It is like the first days of the war, when every noise in the streets made us listen, and when we bought every "latest edition," hardly able to wait to see the headlines! It is like, and yet how unlike! Then we had an inward trembling, almost a fear, knowing nothing of the outcome of things. Now, while there is always the anxiety due to waiting—and, in this case, to the gigantic forces in combat and the terrible stakes for which they are playing-there is, nevertheless, a feeling of security, of certainty in the final results. One is so proud of those little soldiers up there, of the way in which they march towards the front to the cadence of "Ils ne passeront pas -passeront pas," that one has no pity for any one except for those who stay behind.

Every morning I am awakened by the cries of the newspaper boys as they mount the hill, bringing the Paris papers from the station-" L'Echo de Paris," "Le Matin," "Le Petit Parisien." I confess that, in spite of myself, my heart does bound, for cries like theirs echoing through the streets hold so much of the unknown in them! In Paris one is not allowed now to cry out anything in the streets; and one understands the wisdom of the restriction in a great city.

No wounded from the Verdun front have been brought here; they all go to the Midi. The only echoes of the combat we have had were the coming of one hundred and fifty men from one of the hospitals near the front, evacuated to make room for the more seriously wounded, and little groups of men marching away. These latter are laden down with their accouterments, their blankets in a long roll under one arm and over the other shoulder; and the tramp they make is heavier than that of soldiers out for only a day's march. You learn to know it, and you run to the window to see them pass. The other day some went by, and by their sides ran many peasant women in their white coiffes-the mothers and sisters and sweethearts. One old woman held her son's hand, as far as my eye could follow, and though she was just in front of the officer commanding (he was by the side of the column) he

did not in any way interfere. It was very pathetic. But the men's faces were all cheerful, and once in a while one would give a farewell nod or salute to some face in a window. Their courage seems to me the greater because they know now to what they are going, while those who went in the beginning were borne up by the unknown. But that they go like whipped animals, as the Germans would have you believe, is too absurd to refute!

For, like the German propaganda in America-hidden and insidious—there is also a German propaganda here in France-of which, fortunately, the French are very much aware! It takes many forms. There is the simple one of sheets of paper passed under the doors of the peasants' houses, with the French official news printed, and under that the official war news of Germany, printed with a difference. This for the sake of raising in the simple peasant minds doubts of their own Government! There are articles printed in German newspapers and then smuggled into France and translated, stories of men back from the French front fairly dragged to the train by the guards when their term of leave is over; stories purporting to come from the lips of French soldiers about their treatment and life at the front, etc.; many so visibly untrue that one wonders if the Germans think they are dealing with children or fools!

Every one of these is printed in return by the French newspapers, with most delightful comments. For the French have by no manner of means lost their sense of humor.

And then there is the far more poisonous form of propaganda, that of attempting to stir up class hatred; it is hinted and insinuated in any number of ways and places that no rich man and no priest is ever to be found fighting in the front trenches in France, that certain classes and certain sections of the country are always called upon to bear the brunt of the attack. And when these insinuations are run to ground, as one was recently, they are always found to have originated in and been spread abroad from Germany. And, last of all, there is the continual spreading abroad of doubts of England and the help she is giving France.

In an article recently translated from the "Berliner Tageblatt," an article almost fulsome