m.
There were unwashed tin plates and pannikins, knives, and spoons,
sliding up and down everywhere, and the deck was foul with slops of tea,
and trodden bread, and marmalade. Now and then, in a wilder roll than
usual, a frowsy, huddled object slid groaning down the slant of slimy
planking, but in every case the helpless passenger was fully dressed.
Steerage passengers, in fact, seldom take off their clothes. For one
thing, all their worldly possessions are, as a rule, secreted among
their garments, and for another, most of those hailing from beyond the
Danube have never been accustomed to disrobing. In the midst of the
confusion, two half-sick steward lads were making ineffective efforts to
straighten up the mess.

Agatha made out that a swarm of urchins were huddled together in a
helpless mass along one side of the horrible place. The sergeant was
haranguing them, while another man, whom she supposed to be the petty
officer, pulled them to their feet one by one. A good deal of his labor
was wasted, for the _Scarrowmania_ was rolling viciously, and as soon as
a few were placed upright half of them collapsed again. Wyllard glanced
towards the boys compassionately.

"I believe most of them have had nothing to eat since they came on
board, though it isn't the company's fault," he said. "There's food
enough served out, but before we picked the breeze up the men laid hands
upon it first and half of it was wasted in the scramble. Then it seems
they pitched these youngsters out of their berths."

"Don't they belong to anybody?" Agatha asked. "Is there no one to look
after them?"

Wyllard smiled. "I believe one of your charitable institutions is
sending them out, and there seems to be a clergyman, who has a curate
and a lay assistant to help him, in charge of them. The assistant won't
be available while this rolling lasts, and the other two very naturally
prefer the saloon. In a way, that's comprehensible."

He left her, and proceeded to help the man who was dragging the urchins
to their feet.

"Get up!" commanded the sergeant. "Get up, and fall in. Dress from the
left, and number off, the ones who can stand."

It appeared that the lads had been drilled, for they scrambled into a
line that bent and wavered each time the _Scarrowmania's_ bows went
down. After that, every other lad stepped forward at the word. The order
was, "Left turn. March, and fall in on deck," and when they feebly
clambered up the ladder Wyllard, w