youngsters do, would be kicking up their heels in their hammocks,
or running about with double-reefed night-gowns, playing _tag_
among the "clews;" the Senior lieutenant would burst among them
with a--"Young gentlemen, I am astonished. You must stop this
sky-larking. Mr. Pert, what are you doing at the table there,
without your pantaloons? To your hammock, sir. Let me see no more
of this. If you disturb the ward-room again, young gentleman, you
shall hear of it." And so saying, this hoary-headed Senior
Lieutenant would retire to his cot in his state-room, like the
father of a numerous family after getting up in his dressing-gown
and slippers, to quiet a daybreak tumult in his populous nursery.

Having now descended from Commodore to Middy, we come lastly to a
set of nondescripts, forming also a "mess" by themselves, apart
from the seamen. Into this mess, the usage of a man-of-war
thrusts various subordinates--including the master-at-arms,
purser's steward, ship's corporals, marine sergeants, and ship's
yeomen, forming the first aristocracy above the sailors.

The master-at-arms is a sort of high constable and school-master,
wearing citizen's clothes, and known by his official rattan. He
it is whom all sailors hate. His is the universal duty of a
universal informer and hunter-up of delinquents. On the berth-
deck he reigns supreme; spying out all grease-spots made by the
various cooks of the seamen's messes, and driving the laggards up
the hatches, when all hands are called. It is indispensable that
he should be a very Vidocq in vigilance. But as it is a
heartless, so is it a thankless office. Of dark nights, most
masters-of-arms keep themselves in readiness to dodge forty-two
pound balls, dropped down the hatchways near them.