It was a great boon having a cabin to fall back on, and when fatigued to be able to rest on a comfortable bed. Otherwise there was nothing but a hard teak deck to lie on, and a sextant box, or (what we often used) a couple of nautical almanacks for a pillow. On many of our Sundays, while blockading Sebastopol, with everything quiet on deck and below, and perhaps not a shot being fired from the land batteries, I have gone down into the gun-room and seen rows of middies, mates, and other officers stretched out all over the deck fast asleep--and in the fore-part of the ship most of the ship’s company. Sailors are adepts at sleeping in quiet moments. Small blame to them; for when at sea a constant watch and watch for weeks and months is kept, and there is little continuous rest. I always thought it hard lines that after keeping the middle watch--from midnight to 4 A.M.--you had to be out of your hammock by 6.30. Often turning in wet and cold at four, you could not get off to sleep, particularly in bad weather, because of the noise; and just as you dozed off you heard the solemn grunt of your hammock-man, “Turn out, sir: it’s five bells” (6.30 A.M.); and the longer you kept him waiting, the shorter was his breakfast hour. How one could have wished him farther--anywhere but bothering one! And then his dirty hands pulling your sheets and pillows about, so as to place them away properly in the hammock, and that it should appear on deck in its proper shape to be stowed in the hammock-netting, well scrutinised by some very strict officer of the watch or mate of the deck! Woe betide you if the hammock looked too full of bedding, or in excess of what his critical eye might notice! I have often seen an unfortunate sleepy mid roll out of his hammock, cover himself with a blanket or a rug, and give himself another hour or so of rest by lying on the top of his chest, his own little home; but not much comfort attached to it if you were over four foot six in height. What I used to hate most--in hot weather especially--was that morning evolution of crossing yards at eight o’clock. Just washed and dressed, perhaps in a clean pair of duck trousers, up you had to go to the main or fore-top, running up tarred rigging, or (just as bad) finding the rigging full of coal-dust and smoke. One often came down positively black, hot, and uncomfortable, one’s trousers ruined; and there you were, for perhaps the rest of the day, as another wash was out of the question. In after days wiser heads--at any rate, officers with more forethought--left off making you wear your ducks on this particular occasion, and the comfort and convenience was a great boon to officers and men. But somehow, in my early days at sea, very little was studied as to convenience and comfort for officers and men.