among us, the constant, remorseless grind of iron-work polishing,
paint-work scrubbing, and holystoning, all of which, though necessary
in a certain degree, when kept up continually for the sole purpose
of making work--a sort of elaborated tread-mill, in fact--becomes the
refinement of cruelty to underfed, unpaid, and hopeless men.

So, while the CACHALOT could have fearlessly challenged comparison with
any ship afloat for cleanliness and neatness of appearance, the hands no
longer felt that they were continually being "worked up" or "hazed" for
the sole, diabolical satisfaction of keeping them "at it." Of course,
the incidence of the work was divided, since so many of the crew
were quite unable to do any sailorizing, as we term work in sails and
rigging. Upon them, then, fell all the common labour, which can be done
by any unskilled man or woman afloat or ashore.

Of this work a sailor's duties are largely made up, but when good people
ashore wonder "whatever sailors do with their time," it would be useful
for them to remember that a ship is a huge and complicated machine,
needing constant repairs, which can only be efficiently performed by
skilled workmen. An "A.B." or able seaman's duties are legally supposed
to be defined by the three expressions, "hand, reef, and steer." If
he can do those three things, which mean furling or making fast sails,
reefing them, and steering the ship, his wages cannot be reduced for
incompetency. Yet these things are the A B C of seamanship only. A
good SEAMAN is able to make all the various knots, splices, and other
arrangements in hempen or wire rope, without which a ship cannot be
rigged; he can make a sail, send up or down yards and masts, and do
many other things, the sum total of which need several years of steady
application to learn, although a good seaman is ever learning.

Such seamen are fast becoming extinct. They are almost totally
unnecessary in steamships, except when the engines break down in a gale
of wind, and the crowd of navvies forming the crew stand looking at one
another when called upon to set sail or do any other job aloft. THEN the
want of seamen is rather severely felt. But even in sailing ships--the
great, overgrown tanks of two thousand tons and upwards--mechanical
genius has utilized iron to such an extent in their rigging that
sailor-work has become very largely a matter of blacksmithing. I make no
complaint of this, not believing that the "old was bette