Then they were given instructions in putting away the hammocks in ship-shape fashion.
“I’ve never slept in a hammock, except to doze off on an afternoon of a summer day under the trees,” remarked Frank.
“Neither have I. I wonder how I’ll like it?” returned his brother.
“Oh, there isn’t any finer bed going!” exclaimed the petty officer, enthusiastically. “You’ll find them comfortable here, even in barracks, but when you get aboard a ship, and find your hammock swaying to the motion, why say! you’ll be sorry to hear the breakfast call!”
“Not much I won’t!” exclaimed a fat, jolly-looking lad who probably had a good appetite.
Ned and Frank had noticed that the hammocks provided at the navy yard barracks of the Norfolk training station were not like the ordinary hammock in which magazine illustrators like to depict pretty girls with a book and a box of candy. The sailors’ hammocks were made of stout canvas, and each one was provided with a well-made hair mattress. The United States isn’t taking any chances on his boys’ going without a good night’s sleep. It makes every provision for their reasonable comfort, though there are no “fal-de-lals,” as Ned observed.
“But then, who wants them?” asked Frank.
“Certainly no one on a battleship,” answered his brother.
In addition to the mattress in the hammock there were two woolen blankets of good quality.
“You’ll never be cold, especially on board ship,” said the sergeant, “and when you want to be cool, just don’t use the blankets, that’s all. It’s the simplest and best bed in the world.”