Visit the Brooklyn barracks of a summer morning and you will find the marine there in every condition known to the corps and in every stage of his development. Out on the parade ground is a squad of raw recruits being commanded and marched about in the effort to trim off their individuality of motion, and here comes Private Dougherty, with his wheelbarrow and sickle, a bronze-faced old man who was retired awhile back because his thirty years of service had been completed. There is hardly a seaport in the world that Dougherty is not familiar with, and he will tell you, when in the mood, how he killed the Corean general. The Colorado, flagship of Rear Admiral Rodgers, steamed up the Salee river, in Corea, for the purpose of effecting a treaty with the Coreans for the protection of shipwrecked American sailors and to make surveys and soundings. Her survey boats were treacherously fired upon by the forts in the river and a fight began. After one of the forts had been captured and its former occupants driven out, Dougherty jumped over the parapet, ran down to where the Corean leader was rallying his forces and shot him dead. For this service to his country Congress voted Dougherty a medal of honor. And well he had earned it. Ashore or afloat, the daily life of the marine is one of hard work and plenty of it. At 6:30 in the morning, when in barracks, the men must be out of bed and ready fifteen minutes later for the "setting-up" drill, which is gymnastic exercise without apparatus. Then the mess call is sounded and they file into the long messroom, furnished with two tables extending the whole length, and breakfast on hash, pork and beans or beef stew, according to the day in the week, and bread and coffee. After breakfast the order is given, "To the colors!" and the flag is raised on the pole in front of the guardhouse. Then the guards take their posts and the routine of the day begins, reaching a climax at 10:30 o'clock, the hour of dress parade, when the marines are out in full force.