Coaling in the tropics is a very different thing from similar work in northern latitudes.  The exertion of shovelling, or lifting the heavy baskets, added to the intense heat of the weather, makes of it a task extremely trying even to those of the strongest physique.  During the time thus spent in Guantanamo two of the “Yankee’s” crew were overcome by heat and exhaustion, and compelled to ask for medical attendance.

Our appearance beggared description.  The exertion brought out a profuse perspiration on our half-naked bodies, to which the coal-dust stuck, thick and black.  The black rubbed off in spots, showing the white skin beneath, the result being a most ludicrous mottled effect.  A dime museum manager would make a fortune if he could have exhibited some of us as the piebald wild men from Guantanamo.  It was not till afterward, however, that we could appreciate the humor of our looks.  During the thick of the work we were too busy to note the funny side of things; in fact, we felt quite sure that there was nothing funny about it.  It is impossible to awaken the sense of humor in a man who is plying a heavy shovel in the hold of a collier, or lugging a weighty basket, while the temperature is soaring to unknown altitudes.

The ship had to be supplied with fuel, however, and as the crew had neglected to ingratiate themselves with a good-natured fairy to wish it aboard for them, they had to do the work with the best grace possible.

During a “spell” of resting, “Hay,” who was a bit of a philosopher in his way, glanced about decks at the groups of panting, perspiring men, and remarked: 

“It would be an object lesson to some of our friends in New York if they were to see us now.  Just look at those fellows.  Not one had ever before been compelled by ill-fortune to soil his hands with toil, yet when war threatened, and it was necessary to man ships in their country’s service, they cheerfully took upon themselves the labor’s of a common sailor, and not only fought for the flag, but worked hard for it in menial tasks.”

“Menial tasks is good,” said “Dye,” ruefully eyeing the baskets piled high with coal.

“Self-laudation is bad form,” spoke up Flagg, “but I think the Naval Reserves who are manning the different auxiliary cruisers—­the ‘Yosemite,’ ‘Prairie,’ ‘Dixie,’ ‘Badger,’ ‘Yankee,’ and the monitors—­as well as those serving on board the regular ships, should be given credit for their patriotism.”

“The boys will get it when the time comes,” remarked “Stump,” confidently.  “And while we are waiting we’ll just carry a little more coal.  Get in line there.”

Kennedy, all this time, was bearing up under his trouble splendidly, and when the launch of the hospital ship “Solace” came alongside to take him away, we could hardly repress a cheer.  He was lowered over the side in a chair.  As the launch steamed away, carrying Kennedy and two other shipmates who had been overcome by heat, there was a lump in many a throat.