ight the look-out man is called down from the mast-head, and
takes up his position on the forecastle, the bow lights being lit at
the same time. Hammocks are hung up at 7.30 p.m., and supper is
indulged in, which the messes buy at the canteen, none being provided
by the Admiralty.

The life of a sailor boy is a very unpleasant one in a seagoing ship.
Early in the morning he has to take his hammock on deck to undergo
the inspection of the ship's corporal, who, before the boy is allowed
to stow it, satisfies himself it is lashed up in the uniform manner.
Then follows the inspection of knees and elbows, and should any boy
not be clean, the others are deputed to scrub him. Next comes the
climbing of the mast-head. These are but three of the many
inconveniences he has to suffer until such time as he is rated O.D.
or ordinary seaman.

Every one knows that discipline and cleanliness go hand in hand on
board our men-of-war. In fact the latter is carried to an absurd
extreme. From four to six in the early morning, it is almost
impossible watch below to snatch a little sleep, as immediately over
their heads are men scrubbing, or holystoning the upper deck. I fail
to see that "cleanliness is next to godliness" under such
circumstances.

Saturday is essentially a cleaning day, and nothing is overlooked.
Decks are made as white and clean as possible, cables are
whitewashed, guns are burnished; in short, everything appears brand
new. The captain's inspection takes place every Sunday morning. So
particular was our captain that he would never hesitate to descend
into magazines to inspect every little corner, although the whitewash
on the sides of these small rooms rubbed against his uniform at each
movement.

It was ever a great load removed from the mind of the petty officer
who had charge of flats and certain parts of the deck when his
inspection was over. But if fault had been found great was their
fear.

The payment of the crew, as in all ships, took place on the first day
of each month. "Hands to muster for payment, soap and tobacco!" would
shout the boatswain's mate. Any man was at liberty to forego the last
two items, or the whole three for that matter. As a rule, however,
most of the crew took up their money and bar of soap--two very
needful requisites, the non-smokers preferring their two shillings in
lieu of the two pounds of tobacco the value of which was deducted
from the next month's payment.

The First Newfoundl