de observed.
The lieutenant proceeds to the captain wherever he may be, and
reports that it is twelve and that so-and-so is the latitude. The
same formal round of reports is gone through, even if the captain be
on deck and has heard every word spoken by the master, or even if he
have himself assisted in making the observation.

"The captain now says to the officer of the watch, 'Make it twelve!'
The officer calls out to the mate of the watch, 'Make it twelve!'
The mate, ready primed, sings out to the quarter-master, 'Strike
eight bells.'

"And lastly, the hard-a-weather old quarter-master, stepping down
the ladder, grunts out to the sentry at the cabin door, 'Turn the
glass, and strike the bell!'

"By this time the boatswain's call has been in his mouth for several
minutes, his elbow in the air, and his finger on the stop, ready to
send forth the glad tidings of a hearty meal. Not less ready, or
less eager, are the groups of listeners seated at their snow-white
deal tables below, or the crowd surrounding the coppers, with their
mess-kids acting the part of drums to their impatient knuckles. At
the first stroke of the bell, which, at this particular hour, is
always sounded with peculiar vivacity, the officer of the watch
exclaims to the boatswain, 'Pipe to dinner!'

"These words, followed by a glorious burst of shrill sounds, 'long
drawn out,' are hailed with a murmur of delight by many a hungry tar
and many a jolly marine. The merry notes are nearly drowned the next
instant in the rattle of tubs and kettles, the voices of the ship's
cook and his mates bawling out the numbers of the messes, as well as
by the sound of feet tramping along the decks and down the ladders
with the steaming ample store of provisions, such as set up and
brace the seaman's frame, and give it vigor for any amount of
physical action.

"Then comes the 'joyous grog!' that nautical nectar, so dear to the
lips of every true-hearted sailor, with which he washes down Her
Majesty's junk, as he roughly but good-humoredly styles the
government allowance of beef; and while he quaffs off his portion,
or his whack, as he calls it, he envies no man alive, and laughs to
scorn those party philanthropists who describe his life as one of
unhappy servitude. The real truth is, there is no set of men in the
world, in their condition of life, who are better taken care of than
the sailors and marines of the navy, or who, upon the whole, are
more content and hap