ep
out.

When the helm goes over suddenly, too, and the ship slaps her stern
into the heart of an advancing wave, a miniature Niagara comes pouring
down the after-hatch, unless it happens to be shut. It rarely is. As
a consequence the mess is sometimes inches deep in water, while the
violent motion unships every moveable fitting in the place and flings
it to the deck.

At times the dog Cuthbert, in his basket, the gramophone, many broken
records, chairs, tumblers, apples and bananas, books, magazines,
papers, knives and forks, a tinned tongue, and the cheese play a
riotous game of leapfrog on the deck, with the dirty water sluicing
after them.

From outside in the pantry come the crashing sounds of our rapidly
disintegrating stock of crockery, and, if we dared to poke our noses
inside this chamber of horrors, we should see a pale-faced officer's
steward seated on a bench with his head held in his hands. A joint of
cold beef, a loaf of bread, an empty pickle jar, and cups, saucers, and
plates are probably playing touch-last in the sink. The floor is a
noisome kedgeree of broken china and glass, sea water, pickles,
chutney, condensed milk, and other articles of food. But the steward,
poor wight, is past caring. He does not mind whether it is Christmas
or Easter.

A good many of the others are sea-sick as well, for a destroyer in
really bad weather is worse than a nightmare, while it is practically
impossible to keep dry or to get proper food even if one wanted it.
But yet there is a rumour going round that, through reasons of economy,
we are shortly to be docked of our "hard-lying" money! But a word as
to the inhabitants.

First comes the commander or lieutenant-commander in command. His
cabin--which in heavy weather sometimes suffers the same fate as the
wardroom, except that the litter on the deck is limited to water,
clothes, books, and papers--is a good-sized apartment in the flat just
forward of the wardroom. At sea he spends all his hours on the bridge
or in the charthouse, and is only seen below for odd ten minutes at a
time. In harbour, however, he has his meals in the wardroom with the
other officers, but spends no small portion of his day at his
writing-table in his cabin answering official conundrums as to why, for
instance, two tablespoons and a napkin have been "lost overboard by
accident in heavy weather" in the middle of a notoriously fine summer.
He also grinds out official letters and re