outbreak of the war many of them were engaged in making copper kettles and worms for breweries, alcohol stills, and turpentine plants. A large percentage of the brewery coppersmiths were either Germans or Austrians, and therefore could not with safety be employed in our shipyards; but the really American artisans were quickly mobilized for the essential labor of hammering out the copper kettles for our new ships' galleys, of rolling from sheet metal the vitally necessary copper pipes for all the parts of a ship's machinery that come in contact with salt water; then of installing those pipes. Working at forced-draft speed, for which they are paid from 85 cents to $1.50 an hour, two coppersmiths become pacemakers for 1.000 men working on other parts of a ship.

Before the steel plates of a ship can be rolled to varying thicknesses and cut to certain dimensions, be that ship fabricated or specially built throughout, two groups of artisans of great skill and long training must pave the way. These are the loftsmen and the shipfitters.

The labors of the loftsmen are of primary importance. To them come the plans of the ship designer, drawn to a small scale. It is the loftsmen's duty to translate those drawings into terms of a full-size ship.

These experts work in a great mold loft, ideally lighted and provided with a vast expanse of smooth flooring, suggesting a gigantic, low-ceilinged, rough-raftered dancing pavilion. Each plate of the future ship is represented in the molding loft by a template-a light wooden or

paper pattern, on which every rivet hole is marked, every curve and twist designated. With these templates for guidance, the various parts of the ship's hull are laid off, sheared, punched, planed, and bent. Upon the skill and thoroughness of the loftsmen depend in very great measure the speed with which a ship is built, the strength of its hull, and the economy of its construction.

Working in collaboration with the loftsmen are the shipfitters, who take the templates and mark off upon the steel plates the different parts of the hull. In some special instances the shipfitter works directly from his blue-prints without the aid of templates.

THE CAMOUFLEUR ARRIVES

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Once the ship is completed, 60 per cent of the labor being represented in the hull and 40 per cent in the installation of the mechanical parts and the motive power, there comes upon the scene a corps of men whose profession was unknown before the war and for whom a name had to be invented by the French-camoufleurs, men who practice the art of concealment by protective coloration.

In the use of camouflage it has been found impossible so to blend a ship with horizon or seascape as to make it invisible; a phase of the art had to be developed which would effect an optical illusion confusing to the enemy observer.

Marine camouflage, instead of being a new art, is in reality the revival of a practice familiar to the Greeks and Romans at the dawn of the Christian era. They employed what today in modified and improved form is known as the "baffle" system of painting. It is the use of big splotches of color and wide bands of paint to distort the dimensions and shape of vessels to such an extent that an enemy at any considerable distance is unable to determine their size, their armament, or the direction in which they are going.

Credit for the adaptation of this ancient illusion method to modern needs is given to Lieutenant Commander Norman Wilkinson, R. N. V. R., a famous British marine artist. It is his "baffle" system which is employed on practically all the ships of the Allies, with modifications to meet the requirements of each type of vessel.

The work of camouflaging has been perfected to such nicety that a ship can be decorated with its particular pattern of streaks and stripes with astonishing dispatch. It is a matter of record that at one American port an 8,800-ton freighter was completely camouflaged in less than 24 hours. The district camoufleur was notified late Saturday afternoon that the vessel in question would be ready to sail Monday morning. By midnight Saturday the design for the ship had been selected and the pattern indicated on

the hull and superstructure. With the arrival of necessary supplies at that hour, 62 painters were set to work and by 5.30 Sunday afternoon the ship was ready to defy the most keen-sighted commander of a Prussian U-boat.

THE RIVETER A POPULAR HERO

Of all the groups of workers engaged in shipbuilding none has succeeded in focusing public interest upon his particular task so much as has the riveter. The machine-gun staccato of his pneumatic hammer has come to be recognized as the magic song of the shipyards-a national anthem of industry.

The speed with which he sends his steel pins, heated to an orange hue, into place is taken as a criterion of the morale and efficiency of the particular plant in which he is engaged. The b-r-r-r-ratttt of the rivet gun is the mechanical equivalent of