and sponsons white, her guns and ironwork black. She carries 100 men, officers and crew, and is 17 feet long, 9 feet wide, 12 feet high. The lines on which she was constructed were taken from the model of the battle-ship Brooklyn by Naval Architect Henry P. Lapointe.     Originally the McKinley was a flatcar, and she was extended fore and aft so that finally her length from stern to stern was 37 feet. She had a double row of portholes on each side, and as she advances toward you you see the sullen countenance of two grim six-pounders, while peeping from the tiny turret on the gun deck is a ferocious-looking 18-pounder. The quarterdeck is rather small. In fact, the officer of the day has hard work to make his rounds, owing to the confusion that numbers always occasion. Another odd feature is that Jack Tar and his officers are on the best of terms and all hands mess in the wardroom.     Here is the gallant complement of the trolley man-of-war : Captain, Major Charles K. Darling; lieutenant-commander and executive officer, Walter L. Emory ; adjutant, W. P. Hall; paymaster, E. E. Dennett; surgeon, Dr. Sawyer; equipment officer, W. W. Lapointe; navigator, H. E. Jennison; chief engineer, Kendall F. Crocker; lieutenant of marines, Walter Hardy; second lieutenant of marines, L. A. Scannell; captain first company of tars, W. K. Jewett; lieutenant, H. K. Bennett; captain and lieutenant of second company of tars, Messrs. Dillon and Page; drum major, Judge Charles H. Blood. They are all among the leading business and professional men of Fitchburg, Mass.

What would a man-of-war be without lifeboats? Though the McKinley is small, she is fully equipped, and two staunch jolly-boats bang to the davits just abaft and on either side of the bridge, while a dingy graces the stern. All are kept fully provisioned and ready for immediate use in case the anchor chains should become toggled and all hands be required to splice the main brace.     If it should become necessary at any time to castanchor the requisite apparatus is at hand and its flukes will be sure to catch in some convenient paving stone. In fact, the McKinley compares favorably with almost any war vessel except in size, construction and equipment. The hull is of the finest quality of duck. The smoke-stacks are genuine, however, and if it is desired to create a sensation red fire can be burned in them. The interior of the cruiser is by no means commodious, but atones in point of luxury for what it lacks in the matter of size.     Naturally in a boat 37 feet long, 9 feet wide and 12 feet high there are not accommodations for either officers or crew, that is, so far as the interior of the hull is concerned. So there has been a compromise on board the McKinley, and the space below decks from stem to keelson is devoted to culinary and gastronomic purposes. For the McKinley has a cook. Like the mariner of song, he is just now “the cook and the captain bold and the mate of the Nancy brig; the bos’n tight and the midshipmite, and the crew of the captain’s gig,” for the McKinley lies at anchor in the shops of the Fitchburg and Leominster Street Railway Company at Fitchburg, Mass.