IV 



My Log 363 



manoeuvre he somehow performs every day about 

 twelve o'clock, and then there is an hour's smoking 

 on the main -deck. This is mighty pleasant. But 

 perhaps the cosiest part of the day is the smoking 

 time after the wardroom dinner, when we sit on and 

 about the two aftermost big guns on the main-deck, 

 and listen to the band. It is quaint enough, the 

 deck feebly lighted by the dips on the musicians' 

 desks, and a lanthorn above us which is always 

 distilling scalding tallow down somebody's back. 

 The white beams above, with mysterious black 

 arrows upon them for conveying fire, looking like 

 enormous black beetles, and the handles of the 

 cutlasses stored overhead, and the brass sights of the 

 big black guns below glancing in the light, and in 

 the background, which is forward, peering through 

 the darkness a mass of wild strange faces, all 

 wrapped in the most intense admiration of the music 

 and drinking in every note. Mates, midshipmen, 

 and all manner of officers, are waltzing and gallopad- 

 ing with each other hard all, occasionally as the ship 

 gives an extra roll disappearing headlong into the 

 darkness from which come sounds of lamentation, 

 woe, and laughter. Nine o'clock — out lights between 

 decks, stop smoking, and a book or a game of 

 patience with the captain, or a game of whist in the 

 wardroom, a long walk up and down the poop with 

 the officer of the watch, and so to bed. A mighty 

 pleasant life ! 



Friday. — Another lovely day, soft and warm as 



