Captain Crowninshield comes of a distinguished New England family. He is a grandson of Jacob Crowninshield, an early secretary of the navy, and a great-nephew of Benjamin Crowninshield, also a secretary of the navy. Like all the Crowninshields of Salem, he was full of love of the sea. His father was a graduate of Harvard and a founder of the Porcelain Club. FILLING THE DUKE’S SHOES WITH MUCILAGE Captain Crowninshield as a lad read and studied all the books he could find about the sea, upon which his ancestors, near and remote, had sailed. From the first he was determined to be a naval officer. To this end he went to a village where lived a member of Congress, who, he thought, might make him his appointee. The young man found the old member of Congress out in his field, ploughing. He liked the looks of the boy and gave him a half-promise of the appointment. Young Crowninshield was forced to wait a month, but at last the letter came, and with trembling fingers he broke the seal of the letter which made him a midshipman (a title which it is to be hoped will be restored ere long to the service). Some of his classmates were the present Captain Clark, of “Oregon” fame, Captain Harry Taylor, Drayton Cassell, Captain Wadleigh, and Captain Cook, of the “Brooklyn.” His room-mate was Pierre d’Orleans, and many a time did Captain Crowninshield rescue the young foreigner when the jokes became too fast and furious. A favorite amusement with the midshipmen was to fill “Pete” d’Orleans’s shoes with mucilage. This practice, so far from making him feel like sticking to this country, persuaded the young duke to return to his native land, where there were no wild American boys to tamper with his dignity. When the Academy was removed from Annapolis to Newport, young Crowninshield, of course, went with the school, with Evans and the others. He was told that those who could pass the required examination at the end of three years could go out to the war as officers. Half of the class passed the examination. When one considers that no studying at night was allowed, that an officer made the rounds after lights were supposed to be out, and that at the sound of his footsteps the delinquent who was burning the midnight oil would be obliged to tumble into bed with his clothes on, throwing the wet towel which bound his head into the corner of the room, feigning sleep while a candle was passed across his face, one can understand why more young men of that class did not graduate at the end of the three-years’ limit. SCOUTING IN THE ENEMY’S COUNTRY