After Breakfast Some Of The Idle Ones Come Up And Take A Promenade
On Deck, Watch The Wind, Suggest That
It has changed a little, look at the
course, ask the captain for the fiftieth time when he expects to
Be in
port, and watch the heaving of the log, when the officer of the watch
invariably tells them that the ship is running a knot or two faster than
her real speed, giving a glance of intelligence at the same time to some
knowing person near. Many persons who are in the habit of crossing twice
a-year begin cards directly after breakfast, and, with only the
interruption of meals, play till eleven at night. Others are equally
devoted to chess; and the commercial travellers produce small square books
with columns for dollars and cents, cast up their accounts, and bite the
ends of their pens. A bell at twelve calls the passengers to lunch from
their various lurking-places, and, though dinner shortly succeeds this
meal, few disobey the summons. There is a large consumption of pale ale,
hotch-potch, cold beef, potatoes, and pickles. These pickles are of a
peculiarly brilliant green, but, as the forks used are of electro-plate,
the daily consumption of copper cannot be ascertained.
At four all the tables are spread; a bell rings - that "tocsin of the
soul," as Byron has sarcastically but truthfully termed the dinner-bell;
and all the passengers rush in from every quarter of the ship, and seat
themselves with an air of expectation till the covers are raised.
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