Just on the edge of the Fourth Ward is a Lieutenant who has a wonderful baby. The mess hears all about that kid whenever a fresh mail arrives.

The child must be pretty fine and the mess puts up with the narration of his superior points and cunning ways with a kindly indulgence and restraint. The conversation drifts one evening to the case of a seaman who was sick all night and unable to sleep and the big doctor, as the ranking surgeon is called, is telling about the way the man must have suffered before he complained. The father of the baby takes the matter up at once and says:

"Doctor, Mrs. Williams writes me that the other night the baby cried all night long. Neither she nor the baby got a wink of sleep. What do you do for a baby who cries all night without stopping?"

"Take it out the next morning and choke it to death," growls the doctor.

Williams is puzzled at the shout that goes up and while he is trying to fathom its meaning the mess rises up and, pointing its collective finger at the big doctor, hurls this shout at him:

"Cruel man! Cruel man! Cruel man!"

Williams's baby never cries all night again for that mess.

Chaffing like this is going on in all the ships constantly. At every opportunity the fun takes a wider scope. For example, on St. Valentine's day every one on the Louisiana got a wireless message transmitted from home in some mysterious way through the flagship; at least that is what the messages said. The messages contained roasts that set the wardroom in an uproar. The Sun man was notified by his managing editor that "Three millions of people were made happy" by what he had written.

Peculiar messages signed Sweetheart and other endearing terms reached some of the younger members. The proud father of a new baby got word of the usual cutting of the first tooth. The man who was living on a "dead horse" received word that the increased pay bill might fail.

Taken all in all, this chaffing is similar to a Clover Club, a Gridiron Club, or an Amen Corner lambasting. It is given and taken in good part.

Years of skill have taught the naval officer how far to go and when to stop to avoid pitfalls. The man who shows anger or resentment gets it all the more. There is a delicacy of adjustment in it all that commands admiration.

Occasionally there will be something formal in the roasting process.

For instance on the Vermont they have what they call Campfire No. 6 of the Spanish War Veterans. Its members consist of a correspondent and officers who served in the Spanish war. They meet at stated intervals.

They hold long sessions. These are supposed to consist of recitals of heroism, hairbreadth escapes, devotion to duty and the like. They had one of their meetings on December 31 last. The members of the campfire were surprised to find a printed programme of the evening's entertainment. The correspondent member is J. B. Connolly, the sea story writer and the President's friend. This was the programme:

1. The old favorite WILD BILL TARDY familiarly known to theatregoers as the BIG CHIEF OF MONOLOGUE

Mr. Tardy has consented to recite the touching poem "My Bullies Shan't Play Ball To-day."

2. LITTLE ABE BRINSER

The peerless, precocious sharpshooter. The feature of this act will be the shooting of a clay pigeon before it leaves the trap.

3. That wonderful Oriental Magician

RAJAH PALMER

In plain view of the audience, he will grow a horse chestnut into a bull weighing 1,728 pounds.

N. B. First time on any stage.

4. The blacksmiths of Journalism

CONNOLLY and PATCHIN

This act is REALLY great, consisting of Novel writings and rhetorical spasms.

P. S. Audience requested not to go to sleep.

5. STEVE ROWAN

The clever character sketch comedian.

Will faithfully portray, noted English characters, viz.:

BEAU BRUMMEL LORD CHUMLEY LAWRANCE D'ORSAY, &c.

6. Those smooth canteen idols

Jack HIGGINS and DOUGLa.s.s Spike In a screaming farce ent.i.tled SKIN'EM AND CHEAT'EM

7. The Alexander Salvini of polite vaudeville

L. C. BERTOLETTE

The great emotional tragedian in the BALCONY SCENE FROM ROMEO & JULIET Positively pathetic, piercing and painful.

The names of these officers of the campfire were printed on the back:

"Roast Master," C. P. Snyder; "Libation Master," L. M. Overstreet; "Keeper of the Logs," F. M. Furlong; "Keeper of the Alarm Clock," A. B.

Drum; "Bouncer," B. L. Canaga.

If there is any man who can write verse or jingles he has to exercise his muse when any gala day comes. Here is what Mr. Connolly produced when the Vermont crossed the line:

SUBPOENA.

Vale of Seaweed, Hall of Atlantus.

HEAR YE, HEAR YE.

In this my sacred realm, where lively dolphins leap And beauteous mermaids round and round me sweep, In this fair sea where warm south trades Do toss the gentle ocean 'bove the whirling blades, Has come, I learn, a battleship first rate, And at her peak the flag of nation great great-- Her name Vermont, with many turret guns, Of twenty thousand horse-power and sixteen thousand tons.

And learning this, I Neptunus, and of Ocean King, Do don my trident and my signet ring To mark which of her white clothed numerous crew Are known to me, which to my realm are new.

Your name, strange sir, I find not on my roster-- A most disgraceful thing, and branding you imposter; Appear you, then, that this foul blackest stain By baptism be cleansed in our domain.

All ye firemen, water tenders and greasy oilers, All ye mess lads, commissaries and chicken broilers, All ye boat destroyers and gun busters, All ye marines, signal boys and; jack-o'-dusters, All ye topsiders, warrants and enlisted men, No matter where ye shipped or when, All ye who are not of the slush anointed Appear, I say, before the Court appointed.

Fail to appear and ever rue the day My kingly law you dared to disobey.

Attest: OCTOPUS, Executus Officerius.