table was arranged, no table-cloth was spread, no knives and
forks or spoons were provided, no plates of any description were
furnished, or glass tumblers or earthen mugs. The preliminary
arrangements were of the simplest description.

The signal being given, the cook hastily transferred from his
boilers whatever food he had prepared, into a wooden vessel,
called a kid, resembling in size and appearance a peck measure.
The kid with its contents was deposited on the spot selected; a
bag or box, containing ship's biscuits was then produced,
dinner was ready, and all hands, nothing loth, gathered around
the kid and commenced operations.

The usual fare was salt beef and bread, varied at stated times or
according to circumstances; and this has probably for centuries
been the standing dish for the forecastle in English and American
ships. On this passage, the Sunday dinner varied from the usual
routine by the addition of fresh meat. Every Sabbath morning a
sheep, the finest and fattest of the flock, was missing from the
pens. Portions of the animal, however, would appear a few hours
afterwards in the shape of a luscious sea-pie for the sailors,
and in various inviting shapes during the following week to the
inmates of the cabin. This loss of property was recorded by Mr.
Thompson in the ship's log-book, with his accustomed accuracy,
and with Spartan brevity. The language he invariably used was,
"A sheep died this day."

Among the crew of the Dolphin were two weather-beaten tars, who
were as careless of their costumes as of their characters. They
recked little how ridiculously they looked, excepting in one