Among the American Captains In Havana

By Capt. J. H. Drew of Farmingdale.

ON SHIPBOARD

Come with me. The fresh sea breeze is blowing and we will go on board. Our squadron of boats work out among the fleet of vessels, the Marine Band is playing on board the monster “Arapiles” ironclad, and a thousand streamers fill the sky. We are soon on board, our repast is over, and we repair to the clean quarter deck. The awnings are spread, and we seat ourselves as though at home. Soon the sun is gilding the distant hill-tops, showing here and there a tufted palm or grove of orange trees. Some distant convent bell is calling to vespers.