trying to
scramble into his hammock, but it would not remain quiet as it was
accustomed to do.

"So do I," groaned Tom, "I didn't think anything could upset me, but
this is awful."

"Faith there's but little fun in it at all at all," cried Gerald, who
had succeeded in getting in and covering himself up. "Will we all be
drowned, do you think?"

"I hope not; my brother Jack seems to consider that there's nothing in
it, and of course he's right--oh!"

The frigate gave a pitch, which made Tom feel as if he was going to be
shot feet foremost along the deck.

"Arrah, now, where will we be after going to?" cried Paddy, from his
hammock.

"Belay the slack of your jaws, youngsters," growled out old Higson, who
had just turned in after his watch, and being perfectly indifferent to
all the rolling and pitching, and the wild uproar of the elements,
wanted to go to sleep.

"If you make such a row, my colt and your backs will become acquainted
with each other before long."

"Why, man alive, it isn't we are making the row, sure it's the wind and
the big waves outside the ship," exclaimed Paddy.

The midshipmen's small voices were, however, much more disturbing to the
old mate than the sounds of the gale. A threatening growl was the only
answer he condescended to make, as he had no intention to take the
trouble of turning out of his hammock to execute the vengeance he
promised.

Tom also by this time was dropping off to sleep, and Gerald shortly
after followed his example. They ought properly to have kept the
morning watch, but they were not called till the hammocks were piped up.
They had then to turn out, feeling utterly unable to do anything but
sit on their chests and languidly clutch their wet clothes. The two
marines acting as their servants at length came aft, looking as pale and
miserable as they were, and suggested that it would be wiser to get out
some dry things. Dressing, after several pauses, was accomplished, and
washing having been dispensed with, they managed to reel into the berth.
There sat Higson, with coffee-pot in hand, and most of the other
oldsters holding on to cups and plates, the biscuit-boat and more
substantial viands being secured by puddings on the table.

"I've ordered some fat bacon especially for you fellows," said the
former, looking at Tom and Gerald; "it's the best thing for you."

"Oh, don't," they groaned in chorus. "Horrible!"

"Why don't? You'll never become sailors till