We have seen no periscopes, but when I opened my suit-case this morning I met face to face one of those birds that are house pets with inmates of seven-room flats at twenty-five dollars per month. I missed fire with a clothes brush, and before I could aim again he had submerged under a vest. Looks as if the little fellow were destined to go with me to Paris, but when I get him there I’ll get him good. _Thursday, August 16._ Great excitement last night when a small unlighted boat was sighted half a mile or so off our port. Our gunners, who are said to receive a bonus for every effective shot, had the range all figured out when the pesky thing gave us a signal of friendship. It may have been part of the entertainment. To-day we persuaded the Gentleman from Louisiana to part his hair in the middle. The New Orleans policeman is not guilty. It develops that while first- and second-class passengers were unable to read or smoke after dark, the third-class fumoir is running wide open and the Greeks have their cigarettes, libations and card games, while the idle rich bore one another to death with conversation. Un Américain aboard is now boasting of the world’s championship as a load carrier. It was too much trouble for him to pay Auguste for each beverage as it was served, so he ran a two days’ charge account. His bill was one hundred and seventy-eight francs, or thirty-five dollars and sixty cents. “Who got all the drinks?” he asked Auguste. “You, monsieur,” that gent replied. “And what do you charge for a highball?” “One franc, monsieur,” said Auguste. Which means, if Auguste is to be believed, that one hundred and seventy-eight highballs went down one throat in two days. And the owner of the throat is still alive and well. Also, he says he will hereafter pay as you enter. As an appetizer for dinner to-night the captain told everybody to remain on deck, fully dressed and armed with a life-belt, this evening, until he gave permission to retire. We’re all on deck, and in another minute it will be too dark to write. To-morrow night, Boche willing, we will be out of the jurisdiction of this Imp of Darkness. II I GET TO PARIS AND ENCOUNTER SOME STRANGE SIGHTS _Friday, August 17. A French Port._ In obedience to the captain’s orders we remained on deck last night, fully dressed, till our ship was past the danger zone and in harbor. There was a rule against smoking or lighting matches, but none against conversation. The Gentleman from Louisiana and a young American Field Service candidate had the floor. The former’s best was a report of what he saw once while riding along beside the Columbia River. An enormous salmon jumped out of the water and raced six miles with the train before being worn out. Whether the piscatorial athlete flew or rode a motorcycle, we were unable to learn.