y of goods that were good for nothing to the community.

I will give an inventory of all the movables of this republic, for the
edification of the curious. Among these, I must first of all enumerate
the _salle a manger_ itself, a hot little hole in the cock-pit, of about
eight feet by six, which was never clean. This dining-room and
breakfast-room also contained our cellars which contained nothing, on
which cellars we lay down when there was room--your true midshipman is a
recumbent animal--and sat when we could not lie. For the same reason
that the Romans called a grove _lucus_, these cellerets were called
lockers, because there was nothing to lock in them, and no locks to lock
in that nothing withal. In the midst stood an oak table, carved with
more names than ever Rosalind accused Orlando of spoiling good trees
with, besides the outline of a ship, and a number of squares, which
served for an immovable draught-board. One battered, spoutless,
handless, japanned-tin jug, that did not contain water, for it leaked;
some tin mugs; seven, or perhaps eight, pewter plates; an excellent old
iron tureen, the best friend we had, and which had stood by us, through
storm and calm, and the spiteful kick of Reefer, and the contemptuous
"slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," in the galley; which tureen
contained our cocoa in the morning, our pea-soup at noon, and, after
these multiplied duties, performed the character of wash-hand basin,
whenever the midshipman's fag condescended to cleanse his hands. It is
a fact that, when we sailed for England, of crockeryware we had not a
single article. There was a calabash or so, and two or three sections
of cocoa-nut shells.

We had no other provisions than barely the ship's allowance, and even
these were of the worst description. Bread, it is well remarked, is the
staff of life; but it is not quite pleasant to find it life itself, and
to have the power of locomotion. Every other description of food was in
the same state of transition into vivification. There is no
exaggeration in all this. From the continual coming and going, and the
state of constant disunion in which we lived, it was every man for
himself, and God, I am sorry to say, seemed to have very little to do
with any of us. So complete was our disorganisation, and so great our
destitution as a mess, that, after the first week, the supernumerary
sick young gentlemen were relieved from this candlelight den of
starvati