ds of the approaching sea-fight.

Ranged along the right shore of Duck Lake, my boy, to witness the
battle and lend lustre to the landscape, was a land-force of virtuous
Mackerels, under command of the venerable grandmother of Rear Admiral
Head; and she was the one whose appearance gave rise to that rumor
amongst the Confederacies in the Fort, that Secretary Welles was
reviewing the troops in person.

On the opposite shore of the Lake was a delegation of European chaps,
come to behold the engagement; including Fatti O'Murphy, candidate for
the vacant throne of Greece; the Hon. Mr. New Troloppe, of England; and
le Marquis Non Puebla, French Minister to Mexico.

At the head of the Lake, my boy, I stood myself, with my bit of smoked
glass in my hand; and around me were the reporters of all the reliable
and excellent morning journals, spitting on their hands, preparatory to
writing their exciting descriptions of personal danger.

Precisely at noon the Mackerels of the land force raised their
umbrellas, the Mackerel crews got aboard their respective squadrons,
and exercises were commenced by the singing of--

"My country, 'tis of thee."

As the last strain died away, we could hear that grim old sea-dog, Rear
Admiral Head, swearing in his iron-plated manner, and then the whole
naval pageant swept magnificently to the front of Fort Piano; the
"Shockingbadhat" leading, closely followed by the "Aitch," the "Yew,"
the "Em," the "Bee," the "You," and the "Gee." It was a glorious sight,
my boy,--a glorious sight, and moved me like the First of May.

For the purpose of testing the range and drawing the fire of the
unseemly Confederacies' Artillery, Rear Admiral Head carefully let down
his old white hat into the waves, and suffered it to drift slowly past
the north-east face of Fort Piano. We held our breath as we saw the
artful decoy whirl for a moment in an eddy caused by a land-crab, and
then drift against the pier, where it stuck. Immediately a hand was
seen reaching down after it, the hat was drawn up, and a prodigious
horse-laugh arose from the uncomely Confederacies in the Fort. They
supposed the hat to be Mr. Greely's.

"Sink my Keokuk!" roared Rear Admiral Head, in his iron-plated
manner,--"I really believe the treasonable insects have been and stolen
my beaver,--obstruct my Ironsides, if I don't!"

Scarcely had the words passed his lips, my boy, when a Confederacy _en
barbette_ discharged a double-barrelled fo