And yet, paradoxically, despite their lean, drawn faces, they have
grown very stout. Their walk is a waddle, and they bulge with
seaming corpulency. This is due to the amount of clothing they have
on. I noticed Larry, to-day, had on two vests, two coats, and an
overcoat, with his oilskin outside of that. They are elephantine in
their gait for, in addition to everything else, they have wrapped
their feet, outside their sea-boots, with gunny sacking.

It IS cold, although the deck thermometer stood at thirty-three to-
day at noon. I had Wada weigh the clothing I wear on deck. Omitting
oilskins and boots, it came to eighteen pounds. And yet I am not any
too warm in all this gear when the wind is blowing. How sailors,
after having once experienced the Horn, can ever sign on again for a
voyage around is beyond me. It but serves to show how stupid they
must be.

I feel sorry for Henry, the training-ship boy. He is more my own
kind, and some day he will make a henchman of the afterguard and a
mate like Mr. Pike. In the meantime, along with Buckwheat, the other
boy who berths in the 'midship-house with him, he suffers the same
hardship as the men. He is very fair-skinned, and I noticed this
afternoon, when he was pulling on a brace, that the sleeves of his
oil-skins, assisted by the salt water, have chafed his wrists till
they are raw and bleeding and breaking out in sea-boils. Mr.
Mellaire tells me that in another week there will be a plague of
these boils with all hands for'ard.

"When do you think we'll be up with the Horn again?" I innocently
queried of Mr. Pike.