ay, "I heard a voice cry, 'Sleep no more'." Very
deep voice says, "Macbeth hath mur-r-r-r-dered sleep!" General confusion
in the cabin. Old commodore of the "Lotus" says, "Gentlemen, a little
less noise, if you please." Noise subsides.
3 a.m.--Irrepressibles propose sleeping in binnacle; unfortunate
discovery--no binnacle on board. Half-the-crew turn over, and suggest
that the Irrepressibles take night-caps, and retire anywhere. Moved and
seconded, That the Irrepressibles take two night-caps, and retire in a
body--item: two heads better than one, two night-caps ditto, ditto.
3:30 a.m.--Commotion in cabin. Irrepressibles find no place to lay their
weary heads. Moonlight sail proposed; observations on deck--no moon;
squall in the distance; air very chilly. Irrepressibles retire in a
body, and take night-caps. Song by Irrepressibles, "A Smuggler's Life."
Half-the-crew sit up and throw boots. Irrepressibles assault
half-the-crew, and take bunks by storm; great confusion; old commodore
of the "Lotus" says, "Gentlemen had better sleep a little, so as to be
in trim for fishing at daybreak," night-caps all round; order restored;
chorus of subdued voices, "A Smuggler's Life."
4 a.m.--Signs of daybreak; thin blue mist over the water; white sea-bird
overhead, with bright light on its breast; flocks bleating on shore;
sloop becalmed under the lee of the land; fishermen casting nets; more
fishermen right under them, casting nets upside down. Everything very
fresh and shining; feel happy; think we must look like marine picture by
somebody.
4:30 a.m.--Commodore of the "Lotus" comes on deck, and takes an
observation; all favorable; commodore draws bucket of water out of the
sea and makes toilet, white beard of the commodore waves gently in the
breeze; fine-looking old sea-dog that commodore of the "Lotus."
Sunday Morning.--All quiet; air very clear and bracing. Shore resembles
new world. Feel like Christopher Columbus discovering America. Peaceful
and happy emotions animate bosom; think I hear Sabbath bells--evidently
don't: no Sabbath bells anywhere around. Penitentiary of San Quentin in
the distance; look at San Quentin, and feel emotion of sadness steal
over me; moral reflection to try and avoid San Quentin as long as
possible.
5 a.m.--Noise in cabins; boots flying in the air; cries for mercy;
reconciliation and eye-openers all round. Everybody on deck; next minute
everybody overboard bathing; water very cold; teeth chat
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