mind us that Portsmouth is a centre, not of the means of sustaining life, but of forces that destroy.

There are not many factories in this city, for the coal and iron mines are far away. The greater part of the business is in connection with the shipyards, the arsenal, and supplies for the navy. It is all very interesting, but the thought that the city is largely given up to preparing for the destruction of life and property is depressing. When we depart, we all express the hope that it will be long before the guns we have seen will be heard.

Our next stop is at Southampton, a thriving city, only twenty miles up the coast from Portsmouth. Southampton, we are glad to find, is unlike the neighboring city, for its victories are of peace. Some of our party are weary from so much sight-seeing, and it is decided that the girls will remain at Southampton for a few days, while the boys, whom we shall accompany, go by steamer to visit the Channel Islands, and then return to see the sights of this busy place.

When we secure our seats on the mail steamer for the Island of Guernsey, we learn that we shall be six hours on the water before we land. The sea is calm, and the water is sparkling in the sunshine. As we start on our voyage, we see hundreds of boats skimming over the waves. There are so many that we wonder how they avoid collisions. We are not surprised when we are told that in foggy weather the English Channel is one of the most dangerous places in the world for ships. To-day, however, the scene is almost as full of animation as a boat-race. Pert little vessels are darting across the bows of huge steamers; while the water is alive with craft of every description,-yachts, tugs, and heavily laden schooners, as well as great oceangoing steamers. It is hard to realize that busy men are sailing most of these boats, and that to-day is not really

a holiday. As we draw farther away from the shore, the number of ships becomes smaller and smaller, and now, far away, we watch the glistening sails of vessels bound for different ports of Europe.

At last we are approaching St. Peter Port, the busiest little city on the Island of Guernsey. Bold, rocky shores are facing us, and great forts, which seem to be frowning upon our approach. Our captain must surely know his course well, to guide our boat so safely among the rocks of this dangerous harbor. Pretty soon we land and go at once to our hotel. We are so eager to see the sights of St. Peter Port, that we do not long delay there. First, we visit the crumbling old castle, and then spend a little time in the quaint town church, where we find many other visitors. Behind the church, we enter the great Market, and join the throng moving from stall to stall. Here are bewildering quantities of fruit, banks of gor

geous flowers, and huge piles of oysters and fish all about us, with tempting displays of the early vegetables for which this little island is famous. At first we are surprised when we hear many people speaking French; but we recall that the Channel Islands are much nearer France than England, and that eight hundred years ago they became a permanent part of the English possessions. The great forts we have seen here plainly indicate that England does not intend to lose control of them. The French language, however, cannot be changed so easily as the ownership of the islands. Through all these years it has been used by many of the inhabitants, and is still used to-day.

In the morning we drive along the high, rocky shores of Guernsey. We go to the house in which Victor Hugo dwelt when he was an exile at St. Peter Port, fifty years ago. The study in which the great French novelist wrote is still preserved just as it was when he used it.

In the fields we see cattle so graceful and sleek they remind us of deer, and we recall that Guernsey, Alderney, and Jersey cattle have been largely imported from these islands by the United States. What clean and delicate creatures the Guernsey cattle are! They have the most beautiful eyes of all animals. When the ancient Greeks wanted to compliment a beautiful girl, they told her she was "ox-eyed." As we watch the mild, expressive eyes of these cattle, we can understand what the old Greeks meant.

Although the Island of Guernsey is less than ten miles long and only six wide, and although only forty thousand people inhabit it, we find smooth roads and excellent tramways wherever we go. We are impressed, too, by the love the people show for their island home.

In the afternoon, a ride of two hours on the steamer

brings our party to Alderney, an island smaller than Guernsey, only four miles long and a mile and a half wide. Only two thousand people live here, no more than were on board the steamer that brought us to England. As we approach the shore, we easily see that Alderney is an important military post. On the towering cliffs above us are strong forts. Soldiers are here in great numbers, we find, but their presence is not required to keep the peaceful people in order. They are here to protect the islands from a foreign foe.

In our drive about the island we see that much of the land is planted with early potatoes. Men and women are now digging in the fields. We admire the dainty Alderney cattle, which have made the little island well known. Our greatest surprise, however, is to learn that the Alderney oysters are sold in London for twenty cents each! We think of the fortune one might make in dealing in them, but when we are told that oysters are not plentiful anywhere in the British Isles, we understand why they cost so much.

Our party does not stop at Sark, the third of the Channel Islands, because it is still smaller than Alderney and only five hundred people live on it. We notice, however, as we pass in our boat, the drives on the lofty cliffs. We make out, too, some of the wonderful caves along the shore. Our captain informs us that years ago these caves were the resorts of smugglers. He tells us how daring these outlaws were, and that many of them lost their lives in the dangerous currents that we see swirling off the rocks.

We stop for a day at Jersey, the largest island of the group. This island is ten miles long and six wide, and has a population of fifty thousand. Our landing place is St. Helier's, the capital. Here we visit the huge fort and

spend a little time in the old castle of the town. Small as the island is, it nevertheless has a little railway that crosses it. We enjoy our ride on it, going from one end of the island to the other, and then back again, in less than an hour. Did you ever hear of a shorter railroad than that? Among the passengers on our steamer was a family from Portland, Oregon. They rode three thousand miles in the same car on their journey to New York to

take the steamer. We think of their long ride while we are on the tiny railroad of Jersey.

From the windows of our car we see wonderful fields of early potatoes. There are so many of them that we are not surprised when we are told that more than two and a half million dollars' worth of this crop are sent every year to the markets in London. Jersey is indeed a fertile little island. And it is all cultivated, too. The sleek Jer