have
just arrived. And, as they say in America, there is "no monkey
business" about the instructors: either the boys are those who are
wanted or they are not. The youngsters receive their first seafaring
garb in a large, well-ventilated room. They have been in the bath, and
their hair is as close as the clippers can make it. One of them said he
was the son of a lawyer; another that his father was in the Royal Navy;
a third came of a parson's family; a husky young chap had been a
blacksmith's assistant; and another had coo-ed milk in London streets.

"An'," declared a petty officer, "they all comes here believin' they'll
be able to get a pot shot at the Kaiser. Seems to me that they imagine
that William is always standing on guard on the rocks of Heligoland,
just waiting for them to come along--what?"

In another section of the school the boys are grounded in discipline by
a petty officer, and by the time they get through with him they are
accustomed to saluting. Follows then a whirl of wonders to them. There
is a model of the forepart of a ship, which they can steer, and so learn
port from starboard; there is the ingenious manner of dropping a
lifeboat into the lap of the sea; and then the interesting work of tying
knots, in which the petty officer instructor takes considerable pride.

One of the most interesting rooms of sub-schools is the one where the
youthful "salts" are initiated into the mysteries of signalling, where,
besides the numerous flags for sea conversation, there is a dummy
wireless station, by which they can become proficient operators. They
have models of ships, so that they can tell which are British and which
are German. Then there are gunnery schools, and it speaks well for the
young Briton that 90 per cent. of the pupils have such keen minds that
they yearn to learn more of the mysteries of the study of sea fighting;
they have the ambition to be really good seamen, engine-room men,
wireless operators, or signalmen.

On a section of the school grounds there is a mast on which is hoisted
the White Ensign of the British Navy. This spot is known as the
quarter-deck, and every time one of the youngsters passes where he can
see that mast he salutes reverently. Beyond that there is the recreation
ground, where every Saturday afternoon in winter there are half a dozen
games of football. The officers help them to enjoy that, too, for, like
Americans, they delight in exercise.

It is remarkable what a