"THEIR, what the h—ll's that, Jack?"
"Their," said John.
"THERE, that's a b—— jawbreaker, Jack?"
"There," said the tutor, and off he would go in his own peculiar way. Almost every word was introduced by a harmless swear, the droll thing being that my brother simply took it as a matter of course, and never laughed unless some unusually inventive oath combination was interjected; if the pupil confined himself to ordinary swearing, there was no interruption; he was allowed to rattle along in his own voluble way, letting fly vigorously at the inventor of "larnin'." The result was that Joss learned to read and write before the voyage was over. It is true there were few people outside the forecastle that could tell what it was all about, unless they studied very closely his eccentric pronunciation and the wild scrawl of his writing. He never went far enough to get even a second mate's certificate. He thought it an unnecessary waste of time, seeing that he intended to leave the sea as soon as he could attain a pilot's branch. This he succeeded in doing, and had a long and successful career; his fame as a pilot only equalled that which he bore when employed as a sailor. He lived to a good ripe age, and died in harness still adhering to the up-to-date belief that England was being imposed upon by "a set of b—— neckends (foreigners), who took the bread from the mouths of Englishmen." He is said to have saved and left a good deal of money, and this I can well believe, as even when a common sailor he lived far below his income. Joss, unlike most sailors, had not a note of music in his composition, but there were few professionals on the halls who could surpass him at step-dancing. I saw him dance the double-shuffle with a professional on one occasion in the Ratcliffe Highway. I think the place was called the "Gunboat," and he was there declared to be the champion. Joss considered it a part of a sailor-boy's training that he should learn to dance a hornpipe and other steps with facility, and he devoted a good share of his spare time to teaching recruits how to do it. Undoubtedly a good step-dance was a great acquisition on a long, dreary, ocean pilgrimage, and his performance always added to the amusement of a Saturday evening when a concert was organized. The songs were mostly comic, and were sung with an imitative touch of the professional dandy. Occasional lapses into sentimentality never failed to strike a penitent chord for some real or supposed sins that had been thoughtlessly committed. But the mood was merely of brief duration, and only required a comic interjection by someone to send the little community into prolonged gaiety. It was quite usual when they were in the mood to carry their revelry far into their watch below.
When the time came for the hand-spike to be thudded on the deck over their heads, and eight bells called them from slumber to duty, there were found some of whom it was said they would sleep with their heads in a bucket of water, and these were speedily brought to consciousness by the head of their hammocks being let fly by their less somnolent comrades. This was one of the jokes which often led to days of estrangement between the sleeper and the supposed culprit. It was always a mystery who committed the offence, as great caution was used to preserve secrecy. It was a wonder no necks were broken, notwithstanding the care taken to avoid injury in carrying out this mode of arousing the heavy sleeper. Many were undoubtedly hurt, but as there was a good deal of disgrace attached to sleeping on after being called, there was rarely open revolt or complaint made. Another method of dealing with hands who could not keep their eyes open when on watch was to reeve a rope through the scupper-hole, attach one end to the person, and the other to a coal basket, which was thrown overboard. If the vessel was travelling fast, the poor culprit was rudely awakened, and before he could extricate himself he was dragged into the lee scuppers. As that portion of the deck was usually flooded when the vessel had any speed on her, there were soon loud cries for mercy. When it was not prudent to adopt this plan, a bucket of water was thrown at the sleeper's head; this produced the idea of having to swim for it. I have often seen the culprit after an ablution of this character strike out on the deck until his hands or his head came in contact with something harder than either, and made consciousness revive.
But there were methods for dealing with the habit of sleeping on deck other than those, which were fraught with greater danger. I was serving on a vessel whose mate was in the habit of napping when on duty. It was arranged to stretch ropes across the deck about one or two feet from it, and about six feet apart. It was a dark, dirty night; the top of the sea was all alive with phosphorus, which made it difficult to make out lights. The mate slumbered peacefully, leaning against the weather topgallant bulwarks. The man on the look-out shouted: "A red light on the starboard bow!" The man at the wheel repeated it. The mate was awakened, and went straight into a panic.
"Where is the light?"
"On the lee bow," said the helmsman.
"I think it is green," he said.
"Yes," said the helmsman; "so do I."