he _Merrimac_ tried new tactics. She
endeavored to ram us, to run us down. Once she struck us about amidships
with her iron ram. Here you see its mark. It gave us a shock, pushed us
around, and that was all the harm. But the movement placed our sides
together. I gave her two guns, which I think lodged in her side, for,
from my lookout crack, I could not see that either shot rebounded. Ours
being the smaller vessel, and more easily handled, I had no difficulty
in avoiding her ram. I ran around her several times, planting our shot
in what seemed to be the most vulnerable places. In this way, reserving
my fire until I got the range and the mark, I planted two more shots
almost in the very spot I had hit when she tried to ram us. Those shots
must have been effective, for they were followed by a shower of bars of
iron.

"The third weak spot was our pilot-house. You see that it is built a
little more than three feet above the deck, of bars of iron, ten by
twelve inches square, built up like a log-house, bolted with very large
bolts at the corners where the bars interlock. The pilot stands upon a
platform below, his head and shoulders in the pilot-house. The upper
tier of bars is separated from the second by an open space of an inch,
through which the pilot may look out at every point of the compass. The
pilot-house, as you see, is a foursquare mass of iron, provided with no
means of deflecting a ball. I expected trouble from it, and I was not
disappointed. Until my accident happened, as we approached the enemy I
stood in the pilot-house and gave the signals. Lieutenant Greene fired
the guns, and Engineer Stimers, here, revolved the turret.

"I was below the deck when the corner of the pilot-house was first
struck by a shot or a shell. It either burst or was broken, and no harm
was done. A short time after I had given the signal and, with my eye
close against the lookout crack, was watching the effect of our shot,
something happened to me--my part in the fight was ended. Lieutenant
Greene, who fought the _Merrimac_ until she had no longer stomach for
fighting, will tell you the rest of the story."

Can it be possible that this beardless boy fought one of the historic
battles of the world? This was the thought of every one, as the modest,
diffident young Greene was half pushed forward into the circle.

"I cannot add much to the Captain's story," he began. "He had cut out
the work for us, and we had only to follow his pattern