THE MARINE DEMONSTRATION IN NEW YORK HARBOR.

The city of New York has one of the finest harbors in the world, and it invariably invokes a burst of admiration from the observer when he first sails up through its land-locked entrance, passing the low-lying hills of Staten Island on his left and Long Island on his right; then past Governors Island, with its old fort, and the Statue of Liberty, to approach the densely populated Manhattan Island with its innumerable tall buildings that testify to the admirable skill of the city's architects and engineers. The forest of masts that fringe the water's edge, the saucy puffing tugs towing huge vessels, steamboats, flat-boats, barges, etc., here and there, and the stately steamships gliding along, make a very impressive picture.

On the night of October 24 some two hundred of these vessels assisted in a marine demonstration that took place in the harbor, turning its waters into a fairy scene that will ever remain in the memory of those that witnessed it. The men identified with the shipping interests of the country determined to show their enthusiastic support in the late campaign for sound money, and to do so, adopted the idea of having a monster marine parade. Every steam-craft that could be spared was pressed into service, and on the night of the parade threaded its way up the Hudson River as far as Grant's Tomb—where the procession started—and fell into line. Along the river front the piers were brilliantly lighted up and decorated, and thousands of people gathered to view the unique spectacle. With a roar of steam-whistles, amidst the soaring of sky-rockets, and fireworks of every description, the boom of cannon, and the hoarse cheering of the crowds lining the river's banks, the parade started, proceeding down the stream in stately procession, a thing of unusual beauty. Each vessel vied with the others in illuminating its masts, smoke-stacks, and decks with countless electric lights and colored lamps. A steady stream of fire trailed from some, while others set off fireworks. Powerful search-lights from the tall buildings of the cities threw their strong beams on the fleet. Music sounded faintly through the blasts of steam-whistles, and the river and harbor resolved itself into a field of colored fire. The huge office buildings were brilliantly lighted, and from the windows people watched the scene.

Arriving off the Battery, the vessels gathered around some floats anchored there, and completely blocked the harbor as a crowd might a street. Suddenly these floats became fringed with beautiful colored fire, and a busy little tug industriously hustled around to various smaller floats stationed here and there, and lighted a compound on them that produced a high-leaping flame. Sky-rockets soared from the larger floats in an incessant stream, bursting high overhead in showers of exquisitely colored sparks, and streams of bombs shot skyward only to explode in a downpour of fire. Some flew up to burst and whirl around, producing an effect of a huge umbrella of sparks.

For an hour the sky rained a stream of gorgeous colored fire in which even the powerful glare of the search-lights was lost. The bombs exploded overhead like the rattle of musketry, and through it all the steam-whistles kept up a steady roar that must have made the farmers far out in the rural districts uneasy in their sleep. Loudly as the crowds packed on the decks of the gathered vessels yelled their enthusiasm, their shouts were completely lost in the screech of whistles. Then came the prettiest spectacle of the pyrotechnic display. Without any warning, hundreds of feet overhead, suspended in mid-air between the Battery and Governors Island, Old Glory floated, a huge flag of red, white, and blue fire.

H. E.