ines are
thrown to the small launch coming alongside, and a German officer is
helped aboard, who volunteers to show us to our assigned buoyage. The
first of the unbroken series of hospitalities shown us by the Germans
during our entire stay has been performed. Changing course to port,
ahead we could see the spires and buildings of Kiel several miles
distant; abeam, the little town of Friedrichsort close aboard; on our
bow, distant about four miles, lay the little town of Holtenau, really
little else than a suburb of Kiel, and here was pointed out by the pilot
the canal, the opening of which we had come to celebrate. On our port
hand the shore extended evenly from Kiel to our port beam, clothed in
verdure, sprinkled by occasional villas, and marked particularly by a
small hill just opposite the entrance to the canal, which had been
surmounted by an immense stand for the reception of spectators to the
yacht races following the opening week. In this harbor lay the German
fleet, consisting of twenty-eight vessels, aside from torpedo-boats, and
the Austrian fleet of four, many yachts, tugs, and steamers chartered
for the functions. While gazing at the array before us we are aroused by
the 21-gun salute of the flag-ship, fired in honor of the port. We now
approach the German training-ships. The men are in the rigging. Three
cheers ring out from the mass in the rigging. "Stand by to cheer ship!"
yells the First Lieutenant. "Lay aloft!" and our rigging is a mass of
human beings. "Stand by to cheer--hip, hip!" and the three long, hearty
cheers of the Germans are returned. Again and again is this repeated as
we slowly steam up by the line of ships riding to their moorings, the
cheers ringing out even above the guns of the _New York_, which, it must
be remembered, are all of this time engaged in a constant fusillade in
extending and returning salutes to the Admirals of the various fleets.

Arriving at our buoy, we find that the boat which we had manned, ready
for lowering, is unnecessary, as a German boat was waiting to carry out
our hawser to the buoy. We are moored. Our position is not the best,
but, being near the town, it counterbalances the disadvantage of being
some distance from the canal entrance.

The two days now elapsing before the opening of the festivities, the
grand ball at Hamburg, are days of preparation. The last touches are
put on our white lustrous sides; the smallest particles of dirt or stain
are carefully re