water causes the common compass card to jump about so much as to be perfectly useless to steer by, while a fluid compass remains steady and reliable under all circumstances and conditions. There are several fluid compasses in the market at a reasonable price, which can be depended upon in an emergency. The fluid on which the needle floats is generally alcohol, to guard against freezing, and is simply a development of a primitive compass used by the daring seamen of the twelfth century. This old-fashioned instrument consisted of an iron needle, one end of which was stuck into a piece of cork. The other end was well rubbed with a loadstone, and when the cork was floated in an earthenware bowl of water the end so treated pointed to the magnetic North. In spite of the meager knowledge of those early navigators concerning variation and deviation, they generally managed to make a sufficiently good land-fall. It may not be generally known that a sewing needle. rubbed on a magnet and carefully dropped into a vessel of water will float. and point to the North.

The rule of the road at sea requires vessels in a fog to go at a moderate speed and to blow the foghorn at intervals of not less than two minutes; when on the starboard tack one blast, when on the port tack two blasts in succession, and when with the wind abaft the beam three blasts in succession. It also has certain imperative rules for a vessel at anchor in a fog.

The law provides that a vessel not under way in a fog shall' at intervals of not more than two minutes ring a bell. It will be seen therefore that a bell is quite as necessary as a foghorn. If a boat at anchor or under way in thick weather, with neither bell nor foghorn in use as provided by the law, should be run into and damaged or sunk by any other vessel, her owner would have no redress. On the contrary, if he escaped with his life he could be forced to pay for any damage, however trifling, the vessel colliding with him sustained in the act. If he was drowned his estate would be liable.

A bell should form part of the careful boatowner's outfit. But if you have neglected providing one, don't despair. Get out a frying pan or a tin kettle and kick up as much racket as you can by beating one or both with a hammer or a marlinespike. A fishhorn has many times. answered the purpose of a foghorn, but I would not recommend it as a steady substitute. All I wish to convey is that a frying pan and a fishhorn are better than nothing.

The variety of anchor to be carried depends very much upon choice. There are several kinds for sale quite suitable for small cruisers, all of which have good points to recommend them.

The law is imperative as regards the carying of lights by night when at anchor or under way. If your craft is very small, there is a light in the mark et fitted with green and red slides to be be

shown when required, which may suit your purpose. But if your craft has any pretensions to size provide yourself with a pair of brass side lights and also a good brass anchor light. Avoid those flimsy articles with which the market is flooded. The best are cheapest in the end. See that all the lamps you have aboard take the same sized wick. Buy the brand of oil known as mineral sperm, which is used by all first-class steamship lines. Its quality has borne the test of years and has never been found wanting. For lamp cleaning take a plentiful supply of cotton waste and old newspapers, the last named for polishing the glass. A hand lead and line must not be forgotten, while an aneroid barometer, a thermometer and a marine clock with be both useful and ornamental. Do not forget a canvas bucket and a deck scrubber.

A few tools will be found necessary. A hatchet, hammer, chisel, file, jackknife, gimlet, screw driver, small crosscut saw and an assortment of screws and nails will be about all that is essential in this direction. A few yards of duck, palm and needles and sewing twine, a ball of marline, one of spun yarn and a marlinespike may be stowed and their snugly, away their possession in case of need is often a great boon. The adventurous voyager must use his discretion as to his wardrobe. The marine dude" is in evidence in our midst, and who am I that I should condemn a man for trying to look his

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prettiest both ashore and afloat? Don't forget to buy a good suit of oilers, and don't fail to slip them on when it rains. When you come to get to my age, and feel the rheumatism in your old bones, you will wish you had followed my advice.

Tastes differ so widely that it is hard to advise a man as to his cuisine when afloat. What would suit an old sea dog "right down to the ground" might not be palatable to the nautical epicure with a taste for humming-bird's livers on toast, or other such dainty kickshaws. Personally, I can enjoy a good square meal of sardines and hardtack, wash it down with a cup of coffee and wind up with a pipe of plug tobacco, and conclude that I have feasted like a prince. This is probably due to my forecastle training. Others are more fastidious. Luckily this is the age of canned viands, and almost every delicacy under the sun is put up in convenient form, requiring only a can-opener to extract the hidden sweetness.

The culinary difficulty that confronts. the sailor of small craft is the cooking stove. Like the servant girl problem, it is still unsolved. Many great geniuses have wasted the midnight oil and have nearly exhausted the gray matter of their brains in trying to invent a stove that shall be suitable for a little cockleshell of a boat with a penchant for dancing over the waves in lively style. Some have tried cast-iron stoves with a smokestack, and coal for fuel, and have