in to do a work which his own obstinacy or ignorance rendered
impracticable, and he, all the while, cursing and swearing at the crew
for their inefficiency, in a style which would have done credit to the
leader of a press-gang.

The men, generally, were good seamen, and able and willing to do their
work, and with proper treatment would have proved first rate sailors;
but it is an old and true saying that bad officers make a bad crew.
When a man's best efforts are rewarded with abuse, it is unreasonable
to expect that he will perform his various duties with alacrity and
cheerfulness. It was customary, at that period, for rum to be served out
to the crew, and the minimum allowance, in nearly all American vessels,
was a glass of rum at dinner, with an extra glass during exposure to
inclement weather, or when engaged in unusually fatiguing labors.
This extra glass was generally served out by the steward at the
companion-way, and the men were summoned to partake of this indulgence
by a call to "splice the main brace."

Captain Mott, however, refused to furnish the crew of the Casket with
the usual daily allowance of grog. This refusal, there was reason to
believe, was caused, not by a commendable wish to promote temperance,
and break up habits of intoxication, but from a desire to gratify a
surly and unamiable disposition, and deprive the men of an enjoyment
which they highly prized. With such a captain and mate, and regulations
of the most arbitrary and stringent character, it may be imagined that
the grumbling at hard treatment, and the muttered curses against the
inmates of the cabin, were neither few, nor far between.

But the captain, while he refused the DAILY allowance of grog, did not
deem it advisable to withhold the usual allowance on Saturday night,
when every true sailor loved to meet his shipmates around a flowing
bowl, and pass a happy hour in lively conversation, singing sea songs,
spinning yarns, and drinking with heartfelt emotion the toast of all
others the dearest and best "Sweethearts and Wives."

"Of all the nights that grace the week,
There's none can equal this;
It binds the mind in friendship's bonds;
It heightens social bliss.
For though far distant from the land,
At home our thoughts shall be,
Whilst, shipmates, joining heart and hand
Hail Saturday Night at Sea."

No one can imagine the tender, thrilling, and holy associations which
cluster round those