tedious, but by hands; they put a part for the whole, and call
themselves hands, for they are paid for the use of them, and not their
heads.

"Though they are two-handed they are not close-fisted fellows. They
despise science, but are fond of practical knowledge. When the sun is
over the foreyard, they know the time of day as well as the captain,
and call for their grog, and when they lay back their heads, and turn
up the bottom of the mug to the sky, they call it in derision taking
an observation. But though they have many characteristics in common,
there is an individuality in each that distinguishes him from the
rest. He stands out in bold relief--I by myself, I. He feels and
appreciates his importance. He knows no plural. The word 'our' belongs
to landsmen; 'my' is the sailor's phrase--my ship, my captain, my
messmate, my watch on deck, 'my eyes!' 'you lubber, don't you know
that's me?' I like to listen to their yarns and their jokes, and to
hear them sing their simple ditties. The odd mixture of manliness and
childishness--of boldness and superstitious fears; of preposterous
claims for wages and thoughtless extravagance; of obedience and
discontent--all goes to make the queer compound called 'Jack.' How
often have I laughed over the fun of the forecastle in these small
fore and aft packets of ourn! and I think I would back that place for
wit against any bar-room in New York or New Orleans, and I believe
they take the rag off of all creation.

"But the cook is my favourite. He is a scientific man, and so skilful
in compounds, he generally goes by the name of doctor. I like the
daily consultation with him about dinner: not that I am an epicure;
but at sea, as the business of life is eating, it is as well to be
master of one's calling. Indeed, it appears to be a law of nature,