SUNDAY. Course—straight ahead. Weather—same. Wind—same. Sea—same. Ship’s Run—same.
Remarks:
Services. I have a hard time getting the men to church this clear weather.—Put on my Sunday clothes today. It’s a nuisance to dress in these little staterooms. Every time I change my robes I have to pull the trunk from under the bunk, and then the things I want are usually in the trunks in the hold.—These women ask me so many foolish questions. I have to explain the machinery, the charts, and tell them how I run the Ark. They pester the life out of me with “What is this?” and “What is that for?” If they bother me tomorrow I’m going to hide.—Walked around the deck eight times.—We have prunes every Sunday night for supper.
WASHDAY. Course—straight ahead. Weather—same. Wind—same. Sea—same. Ship’s Run—same.
Remarks:
Women folks down below washing. I was awfully lonely all day.—Now that the wireless is out of commission the ladies are using the wires for a clothes line.—Ham says the moles are burrowing in the coal.—The goats nearly ate the fish-worms’ pan.—The two mules with the tiger’s skin are overeating.—Still painting the Ark.—The laundry on this ship is miserable. My collars are like saws.—I’m getting corns on my hands from steering.—Walked around deck five times.
TUESDAY. Course—straight ahead. Weather—same. Wind—same. Sea—same. Ship’s Run—same.
Remarks:
One of the bulldogs buried his bone in the coal. He wouldn’t let Ham go near the bunkers. If I hadn’t gone down cellar and chased him back to his kennel the Ark would have stopped. Ham is a big coward to be afraid of a little bulldog.—Was shocked this afternoon. Found the women folks in the smoke room holding a suffrage powwow. These women will want to run everything some day. I can remember the time when they knew where they belonged. I haven’t any use for these modern notions.
I’m tired writing all this dope about the course, weather, etc. I’m going to quit it even if I lose my job. Besides, I’m running out of stone and my chisels are getting dull.
WEDNESDAY.
Course—I forgot, I’m not going to write that any more.
Remarks:
Spent the morning writing letters.—Shem called my attention to the fact that I call the right hand side of the Ark the right side, and the left hand side the left side. He says I should say “port” for the port side, and “starboard” for the starboard side—or something like that. He seems to forget this is my first flood and I’m liable to make a few mistakes.—Ham dressed up the girl monkey, and took out the hand-organ. He thought I would give him some shekels, but he was mistaken.