By the end of February Martin had passed his examination in gunnery without much difficulty, and was half-way through his seamanship course. Here, under the guidance of Petty Officer Bartlett, he and several others like him were taught the rudiments of boat-work under oars and sail, the use of the compass and the helm, the rule of the road at sea, heaving the lead, knotting and splicing, signalling, and a hundred and one other things. The practical boat-work Pincher enjoyed, and soon got into; while the knots and splices, thanks to private tuition in his spare time from Joshua Billings, were comparatively easy to master. The more theoretical part of the business, however, was a little more difficult to absorb.
'The compass,' Petty Officer Bartlett explained to the class, as they sat round on stools in the foremost bag-flat—'the compass is what we steers the ship with—see? It's supposed to point to the north pole, but it don't really. On the cont'ary, it points to wot we calls the north magnetic pole—see?'
The pupils looked rather puzzled.
''Owever,' the petty officer went on hurriedly, as one youth opened his mouth to ask what might have been an awkward question, 'we needn't worry our 'eads about that this arternoon, and you can take it from me that it does point pretty nearly to the north—see?
'This,' he continued, drawing an irregular circle on the blackboard, 'represents our compass-card, and 'ere we 'ave wot we calls the four cardinal points—north, south, east, and west.' He divided the circle into four parts by means of a vertical and a horizontal line, and labelled their extremities. ''As anybody not got 'old o' that?'
Everybody appeared to have grasped it, for they all sucked their teeth and remained silent.
The explanation continued, but half-way through his lecture Bartlett had reason to suppose that certain members of the class were not paying attention.
''Udson!' he said, pausing, chalk in hand, and addressing a freckle-faced youth, who had spent the afternoon surreptitiously eating apples and sticking pins into the most prominent portion of the anatomy of the man immediately in front of him, 'wot is the hopposite to west-nor'-west?'
'Sou'-sou'-west,' the youngster replied glibly.
'Look 'ere, my son, you're not payin' hattention; that's wot's the matter wi' you. D' you think I'm standin' up 'ere 'longside a blackboard chawin' my fat[ [23] for the good o' my 'ealth, or wot? Try agen.'