Poor Dicky Drake hadn't the duplicity necessary for any such make-believe as this. He began to look miserable from the very moment that it became known that the equinox was to be passed, and continued to grow worse from day to day, until the despondency of the poor lad was positively pitiful, and I secretly promised myself to exert my influence to render _his_ share of the initiation as light as possible. There had existed some controversy as to whether Roddy Prinn and his little chum, Willie Warner, were not also "liable." But they had succeeded in proving to the satisfaction of Captain Joker, that they had made the passage from Rio to the Bermudas, and it had eventually been decided that they were exempt. There were several others of the crew, who were prospective victims. But they were genuine sailors, who really took the thing philosophically. One of them, a little Irishman, by the name of Teddy Tight, swore that he longed for the day to arrive, and that he didn't sleep "aisy" for thinking of the fun in store for him. The preparations we had been and were making, were somewhat extensive. Everything was prepared beforehand, and we had several rehearsals. Old Nick was to represent Neptune, and, from the description I have given of him, you may judge that he suited the character to a T. Bluefish was chosen for Amphitrite, the wife of the Ruler of the Waves, and, though he had an unladylike habit of hitching up his skirts whenever he wanted to use his jack-knife, it was thought that he would go off very creditably. I was one of the Tritons, whose principal duty, on the occasion, was to assist at the initiation of neophytes, while Tony Trybrace, Roddy Prinn and Willie Warner were among the Nereids, who sung the mystic songs of the ceremony. I can't vouch for the poetic merit of these musical attempts. One of them was: "We come from the depths of the ocean Where Neptune is the king. And the waves, with their commotion, Keep time with what we sing. "Huzza for the flag of the Union, The Stars and the Stripes of the free Our flag is the flag of the ocean, Huzza for the flag of the free!" I cannot say who was the author of these stanzas, but am compelled to admit that I should keep exceedingly dark on the subject, if _I_ were the author. Another fragment (even worse than that already quoted) ran: "Father Neptune, he is jolly, Drink, lads, drink away! Father Nep. hates melancholy, Joy reigns at the bottom of the _say_. "Drink, lads, drink, for Union, The old flag must have sway, Father Nep. hates communion, Down at the bottom of the say." I reckon the author of these must have been an Irishman; at any rate, no one can question him as a poet. Well, the day at length arrived.