store-room, to put his rations in. The steward then gave him a large piece
of salt beef, some coffee, sugar, butter, and sea-biscuit.

"Is this all we have to eat?" inquired Archie, as he picked up his rations
and followed Simpson back to his mess-chest.

"All!" repeated Simpson; "yes, my hearty, and you may thank your lucky
stars that you have got even this. You'll have to live on worse grub nor
this afore your year is out. But I see you don't like the berth of cook,
so I'll take it off your hands. Give me the key of the chist."

Archie accordingly handed it over, and then went in search of his cousin,
whom he found perched upon a coil of rope, engaged in writing a letter.

"Well," exclaimed the latter, as Archie came up, "how do you get along?"

"I don't get along at all," said Archie; "I tell you, we've got ourselves
in a fix. What do you suppose we are going to have for dinner?"

"I don't know," answered Frank. "Well, we will have a chunk of salt beef,
coffee without any milk, butter strong enough to go alone, and crackers so
hard that you couldn't break them with an ax. I tell you, the navy is
played out."

"Well, it can't be helped," said his cousin. "We are in for it. But we'll
soon get accustomed to the food; we are seeing the worst of our year now."

"I certainly hope so," said Archie; "but I know I can stand it if any one
else can; and when I fairly get started, I won't ask favors of any one."