would take him to fetch Davy Jones' locker on that tack.

"'Pipe down, sir,' says the commodore to Mr. Bispham; 'Pipe down, sir,'
says Mr. Bispham to Mr. Alphabetical Gray, who was officer of the deck;
'Pipe down, sir,' says Mr. Gray to the gentleman of the watch; 'Pipe down,
sir,' says this youngster to the boatswain; and then _such_ a twitter of
pipes followed this order, and all hands were piped down, while poor old
Sadler was still off soundings, and going down as fast as the
eighteen-pound shot would take him.

"Now, you know that people coming from a funeral on shore always have a
gay sort of air, suppressed it may be, but still cropping out; and just so
is it with sailors at sea; for, Sadler's body committed to the deep, all
hands felt better: the fore and main tacks were hauled aboard, the main
yard was filled away, and the jib sheet hauled aft, and we all settled
down into every-day life, which, after all, is not half so monotonous on
board a man-of-war as you might suppose.

"Well, as I have said, the weather was very hot, the surface of the water
was as smooth as a mill-pond, the wind was all up and down the mast, and
so the old ship was boxing the compass all to herself, and not making a
foot of headway.

"At one bell in the first dog watch, Boyle, the ship's cook, reported the
tea-water ready, and after this came the inevitable evening-quarters--and
some old man-of-war's men would think the country was going to 'Jemmy
Square-toes' stern first if they didn't have quarters--then down hammocks
for the night at six bells, and after that just as much of fun, frolic,
dance, song and yarn spinning as all hands wanted until eight bells, when
the watch was called.

"John Moffitt, the sailing master, the best fellow in the ward-room mess,
and a great favorite with the youngsters, was officer of the deck from six
to eight o'clock; and my messmate, Perry Buckner, of Scott county,
Kentucky, the most dare-devil midshipman of us all, was master's mate of
the forecastle; Hammond, Marshall, Smith and I were the gentlemen of the
Watch; Rodney Barlow was quartermaster at the 'con;' the lookouts had just
been stationed; the men were singing, dancing, spinning yarns and
otherwise amusing themselves about the decks, while the old ship was
turning lazily around in the splendid moonlight as if admiring herself.

"Discipline, you know, is the very life of a man-of-war, and this must
account for what now took place. Tom Edwards