ch. These two worthies, together with the carpenter and the
sailmaker, if there be one, stand no watch, but, being employed all day,
are allowed to "sleep in" at night, unless "all hands" are called.

The crew are divided into two watches. Of these the chief mate commands
the larboard, and the second mate the starboard, being on and off duty,
or on deck and below, every other four hours. The watch from 4 p.m. to 8
p.m. is divided into two half, or dog, watches. By this means they
divide the twenty-four hours into seven instead of six, and thus shift
the hours every night.

The morning commences with the watch on deck turning-to at daybreak, and
washing-down, scrubbing, and swabbing the decks. This, with filling the
"scuttle butt" with fresh water, and coiling up the rigging, usually
occupies the time until seven bells (half after seven), when all hands
get breakfast. At eight the day's work begins, and lasts until sundown,
with the exception of an hour for dinner. The discipline of the ship
requires every man to be at work upon something when he is up on deck,
except at night and on Sundays. No conversation is allowed among the
crew at their duty.

When I first left port, and found that we were kept regularly employed
for a week or two, I supposed that we were getting the vessel into
sea-trim, and that it would soon be over, and we should have nothing to
do but to sail the ship; but I found that it continued so for two years,
and at the end of two years there was as much to be done as ever. If,
after all the labour on sails, rigging, tarring, greasing, oiling,
varnishing, painting, scraping, scrubbing, watching, steering, reefing,
furling, bracing, making and setting sail, and pulling, hauling, and
climbing in every direction, the merchants and captains think the
sailors have not earned their twelve dollars a month, their salt beef
and hard bread, they keep them picking oakum--_ad infinitum_. The
Philadelphia catechism is

Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thou art able,
And on the seventh, holystone the decks and scrape the cable.

We crossed the Equator on October 1 and rounded Cape Horn early in
November. Monday, November 17, was a black day in our calendar. At seven
in the morning we were aroused from sleep by the cry of "All hands,
ahoy! A man overboard!" This unwonted cry sent a thrill through the
heart of everyone, and hurrying on deck we found the vessel hove flat
aback, with all her studding s