“There, my hearty, you look like a sailor now,” said Peaks, when he had rolled over the collar and tied the square knot in the handkerchief of Wilton.

“Shiver my timbers, but I feel like one,” laughed the embryo seaman.

“What’s that, young gentleman?” demanded Mr. Lowington, who happened to be within hearing; “what did you say?”

“I said I felt like a sailor, sir.”

“What was the expression you used?”

“I only said shiver my timbers, sir.”

“You stole that expression from a yellow-covered novel.  Did you ever hear Mr. Peaks, who has been a sailor all his lifetime, use such language?”

“I’ll be bound he never did,” added Peaks.

“No, sir.  I don’t know that I ever did.”

“Some sailors do use such expressions; but it is gross affectation for these young gentlemen, who never saw a blue wave, to indulge in them.  If you please, Wilton, you will not use such language.  It is simply ridiculous.  Mr. Peaks, you will pipe all hands to muster again.”

The shrill whistle of the boatswain sounded through the ship, and the boys tumbled up the ladders, eager to learn what was to be done next.  As they formed in lines, they presented a novel and picturesque appearance in their jaunty uniform.  Most of them had already learned to wear their caps canted over on one side, and not a few of them, perhaps as much from necessity as because it was a sailor’s habit, hitched up their trousers, and thrust their hands deep down into the side pockets.

The students were again formed in watches and quarter watches, each of which classes and sub-classes was indicated on the uniforms.  All the starboard watch wore a small silver star on the right arm, above the elbow, and the port watch the same emblem on the left arm.  The first part of each watch had a figure 1, under the star, and the second part a figure 2 in the same position.

The rest of the day was spent in the organization for ship’s duty, which was far from completed when the sun went down.  The next day every boy was kept so busy that he had no time to grumble.  The instructors attended to the lessons in the steerage with one watch, while the other was on deck acquiring seamanship.  In the course of the month, as the boys learned their duties, and the capabilities of each were ascertained, they were assigned to their stations in the various evolutions required in working the vessel.

Boatswain Peaks had taught the boys, a few at a time, how to set a sail, reef and furl it.  They had been gradually accustomed to going aloft, until the giddy height of the main royal did not appall them, and they could lay out on the yards without thinking of the empty space beneath them.  By the first of June, all the petty officers had been appointed, and every student had his station billet.  When the order was given to unmoor ship, to make sail, or to furl the sails, every one knew where to go and what to do.  The station billets were cards on which the various evolutions of the ship had been printed in a column on the left, while the particular duty of the owner of the card was written against it.  The card was kept by the student, and he was expected to learn its contents so that he could take his place without stopping to consult it, when an order was given.  Here is a specimen of the cards:—­