of what had
occurred insensibly faded from their minds. In a week's time, the unworthiness
of Little Jule, as a sea vessel, always a subject of jest, now became more so
than ever. In the forecastle, Flash Jack, with his knife, often dug into the
dank, rotten planks ribbed between us and death, and flung away the splinters
with some sea joke.
    As to the remaining invalids, they were hardly ill enough to occasion any
serious apprehension, at least for the present, in the breasts of such
thoughtless beings as themselves. And even those who suffered the most,
studiously refrained from any expression of pain.
    The truth is, that among sailors as a class, sickness at sea is so heartily
detested, and the sick so little cared for, that the greatest invalid generally
strives to mask his sufferings. He has given no sympathy to others, and he
expects none in return. Their conduct, in this respect, so opposed to their
generous-hearted behaviour ashore, painfully affects the landsman on his first
intercourse with them as a sailor.
    Sometimes, but seldom, our invalids inveighed against their being kept at
sea, where they could be of no service, when they ought to be ashore and in the
way of recovery. But - »Oh! cheer up - cheer up, my hearties!« - the mate would
say. And after this fashion he put a stop to their murmurings.
    But there was one circumstance, to which heretofore I have but barely
alluded, that tended more than anything else to reconcile many to their
situation. This was the receiving regularly, twice every day, a certain portion
of Pisco, which was served out at the capstan, by the steward, in little tin
measures called tots.
    The lively affection seamen have for strong drink is well known; but in the
South Seas, where it is so seldom to be had, a thorough-bred sailor deems
scarcely any price too dear which will purchase his darling tot. Nowadays,
American whalemen in the Pacific never think of carrying spirits as a ration;
and aboard of most of them, it is never served out even in times of the greatest
hardships. All Sydney whalemen, however, still cling to the old custom, and
carry it as a part of the regular supplies for the voyage.
    In port, the allowance of Pisco was suspended; with a view, undoubtedly, of
heightening the attractions of being out of sight of land.
    Now, owing to the absence of proper discipline, our sick, in addition to
what they took medicinally, often came