d roar, standing to the braces.... "Lay
along, sons;--ye know what sons I mean! ... Aft here, ye lazy hounds,
and see me make 'sojers,' sailors!!"

With his language we had no great grievance. We could appreciate a man
who said things--sailor-like and above board--but when it came to
knocking a man about (just because he was 'goin' t' get his oilskins,'
when the order was 'aloft, an' furl') there were ugly looks here and
there. We had our drilling while the gale lasted, and, when it
cleared, our back muscles were 'waking up.'

Now--with moderate weather again--famous preparations began in the
half-deck; everyone of us was in haste to put his weather armour to
rights. Oilskins, damp and sticking, were dragged from dark corners.
"Rotten stuff, anyway. We'll have no more of Blank's outfits, after
this," we said, as we pulled and pinched them apart. "Oh, damn! I
forgot about that stitchin' on the leg of my sea-boot," said one.
"Wish I'd had time t' put a patch on here," said another, ruefully
holding out his rubbers. "Too far gone for darning," said Eccles.
"Here goes," and he snipped the feet part from a pair of stockings and
tied a ropeyarn at the cut!

We were jeered at from the forecastle. Old Martin went about
_clucking_ in his beard. At every new effort on our part, his head
went nod, nod, nodding. "Oh, them brassbounders!" he would say. "Them
ruddy 'know-alls'! Wot did I tell ye, eh? Wot did I tell 'em, w'en we
was a-crossin' th' Line, eh? An' them 's th' fellers wot'll be
a-bossin' of you an' me, bo'sun! Comin' th' 'hard case,' like the big
feller aft there!"

Martin was right, and we felt properly humbled when we sneaked forward
in search of assistance. Happily, in Dan Nairn we found a cunning
cobbler, and for a token in sea currency--a plug or two of hard
tobacco--he patched and mended our boots. With the oilskins, all our
smoothing and pinching was hopeless. The time was gone when we could
scrub the sticky mess off and put a fresh coating of oil on the fabric.

Ah! We pulled long faces now and thought that, perhaps, sing-song and
larking, and Dicks's Standards and the Seaside Library are not good
value for a frozen soaking off the Horn!

But there was still a haven to which we careless mariners could put in
and refit. The Captain's 'slop chest'--a general store, where oilskins
were 'sea priced' at a sovereign, and sea-boots could be had for thirty
shillings! At these figures they wou