remembered it. 'Well, when you went down that time your propeller shot a great mass of water out backward, just as big as, or bigger than, any whale could blow. The _St. Johns_ was about two hundred yards astern of you, and she stopped instantly, not being able to tell what the trouble was ahead of her. After a while she started up and headed into the Staten Island shore, keeping on until I thought she would run ashore. She ported her helm and kept close along shore until she passed the Quarantine anchorage, then she headed straight for New York.' "Experimental runs were made almost every day during the months of July and August, and continued until September, when we returned to the 'Gap' in Jersey City. During our experiments we were never without a considerable crowd of witnesses, sometimes numbering hundreds, especially in our runs from the 'Gap' up the Hudson and return. One morning in July a very patronizing gentleman, who announced himself as a reporter from the _New York Sun_, requested permission to go into the boat and examine it, but, much to his surprise, I was compelled to refuse him permission. The next morning there appeared in his paper a long report describing the performances of the _Fenian Ram_, a new name to which I had no objection excepting its incorrectness. Because public curiosity was aroused, the same Mr. Blakely Hall seldom missed reporting every run or experiment we made while at Bay Ridge. He explained to me that I was foolish in not wishing to advertise my invention, because the Government would certainly wish to acquire boats of the same type, as he could see by the newspaper reports that they were already preparing to build them in France. "Shortly after our return to the 'Gap,' an amusing incident took place which is well worth recording. A number of friends and myself decided to take a trip up the Hudson. There were eight or ten in the party, and, as the submarine could accommodate only four, a small sloop was hired to carry the overflow. When we got under way, the submarine towing the sloop, we found the going rather hard, owing to cakes of ice floating down the river. When we were off Hoboken I slowed down to allow a steamer to cross our bow. This, of course, slackened the towline, with the result that when I got under way again said line fouled the propeller, held for a second, and then broke, sending the sloop adrift among the cakes of ice. The crew of the derelict bark shouted to attract my attention, but I had the hatch closed and could not hear them. I proceeded about a mile upstream from the point of the accident before I discovered that my tow was missing. I turned back and found my unfortunate mariners had been picked up by a passing boat and towed back to Jersey City.