swung, now toward, now away from the "ultimate consumer", who dodged and clutched at his errant repast. It is said that nothing is really pleasure-giving unless it is worked for. Figuring on this basis we ought to have enjoyed our meals on the "Agamemnon" as never before; but few were heard to speak of the cuisine with any apparent enthusiasm.

                The "Agamemnon" nosed its way cautiously through a thick fog. Perched on every conceivable point of vantage, were eager figures in O. D., peering intently ahead, striving to pierce the feathery cloud which covered the sea. It was April 7, and we were due to dock at noon, not in a strange port, but in Boston, the city of our dreams, our home! We stared out to sea, and cursed the mist which shut off the outside world from our view. Toward noon the fog lifted a little and, suddenly, as we strained our eyes for a sight of the still hidden land, we caught the dull, regular throb of engines through fog, growing more loud. Presently a vague, dark shape appeared in the lightening curtain of mist, growing ever clearer till suddenly it seemed to burst forth from its white shroud, and leap toward us over the water. It was a small steamer, decked and flaunting with flags and pennants. On its foredeck a band was blaring out a march which we could vaguely hear.

                A wild yell leapt from the packed decks of the "Agamemnon." For us, this tiny steamer symbolized home, America, and we cheered and waved as though the Customs House Tower were in sight.

                Close on the heels of the steamer followed the pilot-boat and a small fleet of submarine chasers,

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