When he arrived alongside of the Rover, he found the officer of the deck, boatswain's mate, and side-boys standing on the after-guard, and Frank was "piped over the side" with all the ceremony due his rank. It made him feel a little embarrassed at first, for never before had so much respect been shown him. But he knew that he had won the uniform he wore by hard knocks, and was more entitled to this honor than those who sported ensign's shoulder-straps which had been obtained, not by any skill or bravery of their own, but by the influence of friends at home.
Frank made known his business, and was immediately shown down into the cabin. The captain, who had often met him on board of the Ticonderoga, and who had heard of his exploits, greeted him cordially, and was glad to learn that he had received such an acquisition to his crew. When he had endorsed Frank's orders, he sent for the chief engineer, to whom he introduced him, with a request that he might be made acquainted with the other officers of his mess; after which Frank was shown to his room, whither his luggage was soon conveyed.
Just before supper he was introduced to the officers belonging to the ward-room mess; but when he had seated himself at the table, and listened a few moments to the conversation that followed, he found that some of his new messmates went by names very different from those by which they had been introduced. One of the ensigns, whose name was Andrews, was known as Count Timbertoes, from the very dignified manner in which he always conducted himself, and from his wooden-leg style of progression.
The executive officer, whose name was Short, answered to its opposite—Long; and sometimes, behind his back, he was called "Windy." Frank was not long in discovering why it was that such a name had been given him, for he was certainly the most talkative man he had ever met; and when asked the most simple question, instead of answering it by a plain Yes or No, he would "beat about the bush," and deliver a regular oration on the subject. He had a great command of language, and seemed desirous of making every one whom he met acquainted with the fact.
The paymaster went by the name of Young Methuselah. He was a man about twenty-seven years of age, but the account kept by one of the engineers, who messed in the steerage, made him about two hundred and eighty years old. There was scarcely a trade or profession in the world that, according to his own account, he had not followed for five or ten years. He had been a shoemaker, a painter, a grocer, a horse-jockey, and an editor; had practiced medicine, traveled in Europe, and, when a mere boy, had been master of as fine a vessel as ever sailed out of Boston. He was a "self-made man," he said, and early in life had started out with the intention of seeing the world. This was the reason he gave for following so many different occupations.
Unlike the rest of the officers, he disliked very much the name they had given him, and had often complained to the caterer of the mess, and finally to the captain. The former took no measures to correct it, and the latter "didn't want to be troubled with mess affairs," and so the paymaster was compelled to bear his troubles, which he did with a very bad grace, that only made matters tenfold worse. It was a noticeable fact, however, that, whenever any of the officers were in need of money, he was always addressed as Mr. Harris, but as soon as the money had been obtained, or the safe was empty, he was plain Methuselah again.
The chief-engineer's name was Cobbs, but he went by the name of Gentleman Cobbs, from the fact that he was always dressed in the height of fashion, sported his gold-headed cane and patent-leather boots about decks, and had never been known to "do a stitch of work" since he had been on board the vessel.
These names were, of course, applied only in the mess-room, for the captain was a regular naval officer, a very strict disciplinarian, and any such familiarity on deck would have brought certain and speedy punishment on the offender. On the whole, Frank was very well pleased with his new messmates; they seemed to be a set of generous, good-natured men, and, aside from the grumbling of the paymaster, which was kept up without intermission from morning until night, but which received no attention from the other members of the mess, every thing passed off smoothly. The ward-room was kept scrupulously clean and neat, and the manner in which all the delicacies of the season were served up bore testimony to the fact that, although Gentleman Cobbs was very much averse to work, he well understood the business of catering, and was fond of good living.
After dinner, the officers belonging to both the steerage and ward-room messes congregated on the main-deck, under the awning, to smoke. During the conversation the carpenter, who went by the name of "Chips," remarked, as he wiped the big drops of perspiration from his forehead:
"This boat is intolerable. I would like to be where I was six years ago this summer."