Thursday afternoon is the recognised time for the opening of the mysterious and voracious "Scran-bag."
On board a man-of-war tidiness is a matter of great importance, and with a view to enforcing it an officer—on Sundays and Thursdays the puissant captain himself—makes a tour of the entire ship at certain hours. Woe betide the luckless man who has left out of its place the smallest article! For when the decks are being cleared up for the "Rounds" (as the inspection is termed), here a towel that has been inadvertently left on a rack instead of being stowed away in its appointed place, the kit-bag—here a book, or a coat, or a pound of tobacco, stowed away out of sight behind a scuttle cover, and discovered by the insinuative, far-reaching hand of the "Crusher," as the ship's corporal is familiarly termed, a hand that has a pleasant knack of exploring out-of-the-way nooks and corners—in short, any article that is left about is confiscated, and placed within a huge canvas bag, the "Scran-bag."
Photo. R. Thiele & Co.
A SKILFUL MACHINIST.
Every Thursday it is opened, and there gathers around it an excited knot of men who overhaul its contents thoroughly, a ship's corporal standing by to see that no man claims "what isn't his'n." But before the owner is allowed to take away his article he is mulcted in one penny for each article, to be put in the poor-box, or else he has to provide a piece of soap to be used in scrubbing decks.
Nearly everyone has seen "Ship's tobacco" in some form or other, but few know how the sailor prepares it for use. It is served out to him monthly, at the same time as his soap, in packages of 1 lb., for which he pays 1s. 1d., being allowed it duty free. It is a dark, rich leaf, and the first thing done is to remove the stems. This done, some water is sprinkled on the loose leaves (the old salt will prefer rum, to add to its strength and flavour), and the whole is enclosed in a piece of canvas and tightly bound with twine until it assumes a cigar-like shape, pointed at each end. Next some fine line is taken, one end secured to the tobacco and the other made fast to some strong support. One or two men now sit astride the line, and the tobacco is wound round and round, the weight of the men compressing it to about half its original bulk. When entirely covered with line it is tightly secured, and in two or three days is ready for use.
At night the men's time may fairly be considered their own. On certain evenings fresh water is served out for the washing of clothes, for Jack is his own washerwoman as well as tailor. That the marine is no less handy than his sailor brother may be gathered from the fact that the ship's cobbler usually belongs to that immensely useful branch of the service so aptly described by Kipling as "soldier and sailor too."
A number of men who are handy with razor and scissors make a good addition to their pay by attending to the tonsorial wants of their less gifted brethren, and shave and cut hair in a heavy sea-way with the ship rolling and pitching all over the place as easily as they do in harbour with an immovable deck to stand on.
"All work and no play"—the proverb was made for Jack; and though the bluejacket has to make his own amusement he does it as thoroughly as he does all else he puts his hand to. Nearly every ship in the navy has its nigger troupe or theatrical party, and some really clever performances are given; the make-up and dress are good, and would be no disgrace to a professional company. The fair sex, though absent, are hardly conspicuous thereby; few uninitiated eyes would detect in the female characters a middle-aged able-seaman or a cheeky young ordinary.