"Master-at-arms," said that dignitary, "you will see that this boy has a bath and that his hair is cut; then take him down to the sick-bay to be vaccinated. After that, get him his bag and hammock; show him his 'swing' and how to 'lash and carry.''

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Aye, aye, sir!" responded "Jimmy," briskly, although the order was rattled off at such a rate that poor Decatur had no idea what the gentleman in brass buttons was talking about. But "Jimmy Legs "did; and turning to Decatur, he said, "This way, lad," and led him at once into a large deckhouse on the upper deck, where stand a dozen or more bath-tubs, beside the steam pump and boiler. The bath was soon over, and then, on the deck next below, Decatur's abundant hair was neatly clipped down to the regulation "short cut" by a boy barber; after which he was taken to the hospital-room, known as the "sick-bay," upon a still lower deck, where he was vaccinated by the surgeon, a kind-looking old gentleman.

After this intimation that cleanliness and health are among the most important considerations in the school of the sailor, Decatur was left to himself and given a chance to look about him. He wandered through the great ship, gazed up at the tall masts and lofty spars with their masses of rigging, and felt certain that he would surely become dizzy were he to try to skip aloft, as could most of the five hundred boys who, in their natty blue uniforms, seemed to be in every part of the ship. He examined the great guns on the gun-deck, the ponderous capstans and heavy anchor-chains, the racks of burnished rifles and shining cutlasses, the brightly scoured mess-tables on the berth-deck, with their outfits of knives, forks, spoons, and pans shining like polished silver, until, tired and hungry, he began to wonder whether he was to have any supper and where he was to sleep.

Just at the right moment along came "Jimmy Legs" again. "Here's your station billet, my son," he said, handing the boy a small piece of printed paper. "Watch number, 22, port forecastle; that's your hammock number also. At quarters you go with number two's gun crew, first division. Then here you have your station given for all the exercises with sails and spars. You belong to the first cutter's crew-that 's your boat, d' ye see? All the information in a nut-shell. There's the call for mess formation sounding now, so run along and join your crew-number two, first division." "Dear me," thought Decatur, "I never can remember all that. Number two first division; I wonder what it means?"

Decatur, greatly relieved, followed his new friend along the line of boys, and was properly placed with his own crew. Then, after muster, all the crew marched down to a supper of bread and milk, and Decatur picked up plenty of information.

"Who 's Commodore Duff?" he asked, catching at the curious name as it passed among the boys. "Is he the head of the ship?"

"Well, we could n't get along without him very well," was the laughing reply. "Why, Duff's our caterer, you know. He's an Italian with a jawbreaking name, and we call him Duff for short; and does n't he feed us well, though? You just ought to have seen our last Christmas dinner," — and there sounded a chorus of appreciative smacks in recollection of that Christmas dinner.

Supper over, "Jimmy Legs" made his appearance again, loaded down with a hammock, mattress, blankets, a large black canvas bag, and a small square box.

"This is your bed," he said to our friend Decatur, pointing to the hammock. "This is your clothesbag, and this is your ditty-box for sewing gear, writing materials, and odds and ends. You will draw your clothing to-morrow, when the officer of your division has had a look at you. Now, come along and I'll show you where to swing your hammock."

"This is your

He led the way to the gun-deck. berth," he said; "number twenty-two, same as your hammock number and watch number. I'll take care of your bag and box until to-morrow."

Then he put up the hammock, arranged the bedding, and trotted quietly away, while young Decatur, thoroughly tired out, found that a hammock is a much more comfortable bed than he imagined, and was soon sound asleep.

The next morning, when Decatur had donned his blue shirt with its rolling collar, the loosely fitting trousers, and the jaunty cap with "New Hampshire" lettered in gold upon it, he felt himself in reality "every inch a sailor." And as he now becomes one of the five hundred, and hence loses to a great degree his identity, we must leave him to share the fortunes of his comrades, while we take a more general look at what these fortunes are.

Smirched clothing is never tolerated; so every day is wash-day, thereby giving all hands an opportunity to keep their clothing neat and clean.

The cleanliness of the ship itself is a matter considered equally as important as that of the crew. The boatswain's mates pipe "Wash down the decks," and the work begins. Buckets of water, hickory brooms, sand and holy-stones, squillgees and swabs all are brought into use to drive every particle of dirt from the oak planks of the decks, which soon shine with a whiteness that any housewife would envy. Then the ship must be cleaned outside, and the copper sheathing scrubbed and

The great event of the forenoon is "quarters." All the crews assemble at their guns for muster, inspection, and drill. Four guns' crews, of seventeen boys each, make up a division, which is in charge of an officer. The drills are varied and interesting, and pertain more particularly to that part of the training which makes "fighting men." The boys are exercised in loading, pointing, and firing the heavy cannon which constitute the ship's battery. The target is towed out to the proper distance from the ship. There is about this gunpractice much "make-believe" as the phrase goes - at first, but when the boys are thoroughly

oiled until it looks like a band of reddish gold above the water-line. The ship having received her share of attention, the boys are given a half-hour in which to prepare for "early inspection," at which the master-at-arms and a number of subordinates make a critical observation of the toilets.

Then comes breakfast, and, after that, more cleaning. There are no intervals of idleness. This time it is the guns that need care; their brass-work must be made to shine like a mirror in the sun. While this is going on, a bugle sounds sick-call, and all those who are too ill for the day's work flock down to the dispensary, where the old surgeon and his young assistant are busy feeling pulses, peering down throats, and prescribing generously for each patient.

posted in their duties, real powder and shell are brought in. The deafening reports are at first a sore trial to delicate nerves, but our young friends are soon able to stand unmoved while an eightinch Dahlgren gun belches forth flame and smoke.

Broadsword and cutlass drills, under the supervision of an expert swordsman, and pistol, howitzer, and infantry drills form a part of the routine, which goes toward strengthening the youthful arm that may some day be raised in defense of our country's flag.

After quarters, exercises and studies, with an interval of one hour at noon for dinner, fill up the time until four o'clock. Evening quarters, for muster only, are at half-past four, and supper is at five. Hammocks are piped down early in the evening,

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and every one must be turned in at nine o'clock, when silence fore and aft is the order of the night. The school of instruction for the apprentices is divided into three departments, viz. : Seamanship Department, Gunnery Department, and Department of Studies. Each department is in charge of an officer, with several assistants. In seamanship, the boy is first taught the names of all the spars, ropes, and sails. He is then sent on the monkey yard," which is slung a few feet above the deck, and there taught how to handle a small sail. Encouraged to take a run up the rigging every morning, the boy soon forgets his fear of falling, and is then allowed to take part in the regular exercises aloft — such as loosing, furling, reefing, bending, and unbending sails, sending up or down light yards and top-gallant masts, etc. Cutting and fitting rigging, knotting and splicing rope, sail-making, boxing the compass, heaving the lead and log signals, pulling oars, swimming, and the use of the diving apparatus come under this head. The course of instruction in gunnery includes the theory of gunnery, in addition to the practice mentioned in a preceding paragraph as divisional drills. The Department of Studies embraces the rudiments of an ordinary English education—reading, writing, spelling, arithmetic, grammar, geography, history, moral and religious instruction, and singing.

This, then, is the every-day work of the apprentices, but it is not all work and no play. On Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday afternoons, those whose conduct record may warrant are given liberty to visit the quaint old town of Newport. For those who do not care for this, the island close at hand is a rare place for base-ball, foot-ball, and other field sports. Boating is always in order- the ship's boats for rowing, and the little brig Toy or the schooner-yacht Wave for sailing. These last two, manned by the boys themselves, make pleasant cruises in Narragansett Bay, and often visit the surrounding towns. And it is a pretty sight on some breezy day to see the boys walk out on the long boom and drop into the cutter that bobs and dances alongside. In the pleasant summer evenings the band plays for "stag" dancing on board ship, and a singing-master leads the choruses, which make the air resound with "Nancy Lee,” “Life on the Ocean Wave," and other songs of the sea. A library and reading-room are open during recreation hours. On Sunday mornings church service is conducted by the Chaplain on the gun-deck, when all are required to be present. For the bad or unruly boy, or the one who lazily or willfully shirks his duty, there is first justice and then punishment. Such a boy is duly reported to the officer of the deck and the culprit is speedily

summoned to answer to the charges against him before a court composed of the captain, the executive officer and the chaplain. It is like a regular police court, too, in which if the boy can plead a good excuse or can prove by witnesses that no blame attaches to him he may do so. Everything is done according to exact justice, and punishment is only given when proven to be merited.

After a year on the ship, those boys who have advanced far enough in their profession to be considered available for sea are generally transferred to some of the cruising ships of the training squadron, when the fleet rendezvous at Newport in the early spring, preparatory to the summer cruise.

The transfer day is a gala day. The fortunate boys are bustling around getting their bags and hammocks ready and saying their good-byes. "Commodore Duff" always provides a grand farewell dinner on this occasion, to which every departing apprentice will look back with pleasure when fresh provisions give out at sea, and “salt horse (salt beef), "soup and bully" (canned beef), and "hard-tack" have important places in the bill of fare. The draft turns out in blue mustering-clothes, and, amid a volley of cheers and swinging of caps, boards the tug, which has been waiting alongside, and are soon distributed among their new homes.

Once upon the high seas, much of the romance of the sailor's life fades quickly away. It may be pleasant to stroll along the cliffs and to watch the great waves break in a line of white foam and a shower of spray, but once afloat in a wave-tossed ship, many a young sailor has felt contemplation give way to an indescribable feeling of misery and woe. There are few people who are proof against sea-sickness, and the land-lubber who can endure the rolling and pitching without a qualm is a hero indeed. But the lad who "tackles it" manfully, with a dogged determination to crush out the first symptoms of weakness, generally conquers, and is soon able to laugh with the rest. One or two days is the average time allowed for getting one's "sea legs."

The coast-line soon fades away in a purple haze as the small fleet bowls along before the wind out into the broad Atlantic. The change is exhilarating. To many it is a new world the blue above and the blue below. The weather is fair to-day, but to-morrow the clouds may bank up around the horizon in dark, foreboding masses, the gentle breeze may increase to a howling gale, and the speeding ship be stripped of her lofty canvas until she is left wallowing in a heavy sea and drifting bodily to leeward. It is then that the stout heart and the steady hand of the sailor boy stand him in good stead. There are to'-gallant sails and royals to be furled, the lofty yards of which sway