CHAPTER IV.

We plowed along bravely for a week or more, and without any conflict of

jurisdiction among the captains worth mentioning. The passengers soon

learned to accommodate themselves to their new circumstances, and life in

the ship became nearly as systematically monotonous as the routine of a

barrack. I do not mean that it was dull, for it was not entirely so by

any means--but there was a good deal of sameness about it. As is always

the fashion at sea, the passengers shortly began to pick up sailor terms

--a sign that they were beginning to feel at home. Half-past six was no

longer half-past six to these pilgrims from New England, the South, and

the Mississippi Valley, it was "seven bells"; eight, twelve, and four

o'clock were "eight bells"; the captain did not take the longitude at

nine o'clock, but at "two bells." They spoke glibly of the "after

cabin," the "for'rard cabin," "port and starboard" and the "fo'castle."

At seven bells the first gong rang; at eight there was breakfast, for

such as were not too seasick to eat it. After that all the well people

walked arm-in-arm up and down the long promenade deck, enjoying the fine

summer mornings, and the seasick ones crawled out and propped

themselves

up in the lee of the paddle-boxes and ate their dismal tea and toast, and

looked wretched. From eleven o'clock until luncheon, and from luncheon

until dinner at six in the evening, the employments and amusements were

various. Some reading was done, and much smoking and sewing, though

not

by the same parties; there were the monsters of the deep to be looked

The Innocents Abroad