mysteries of their craft. They taught me the difference between
a granny knot and a square knot; how to whip a rope's end; form
splices; braid sinnett; make a running bowline, and do a variety
of things peculiar to the web-footed gentry. Some of them also
tried hard, by precept and example, but in vain, to induce me to
chew tobacco and drink grog! Indeed, they regarded the ability
to swallow a stiff glass of New England rum, without making a wry
face, as one of the most important qualifications of a sailor!

The "old men-of-war's-men" had passed through strange and
eventful scenes; they were the type of a class of men which have
long since passed away; they could spin many a long and
interesting yarn, to which I listened with untiring eagerness.
But no trait in their character astonished me more than their
uncontrollable passion for intoxicating drinks. As cabin boy, it
was my duty to serve out to the crew a half pint of rum a day.
These old Tritons eagerly looked forward to the hour when this
interesting ceremony came off; their eyes sparkled as they
received their allotted portion of this enemy to the human race;
and they practised every art to procure, by fair means or foul,
an increased allowance. If by accident or shrewd management one
of them succeeded in obtaining half a glass more than he was
fairly entitled to, his triumph was complete. But if he
imagined he had not received the full quantity which was his due,
ill humor and sulky looks for the next twenty-four hours bore
testimony to his anger and disappointment. These men ignored the
good old proverb that "bread is the staff of life," and at any
time, or at all times, would prefer grog to bread.

In those days it was believed that ardent spirit would strengthen