Then the mate is extremely unclean, so much so that even Mr. Rarx said a day or two ago that he was the dirtiest man whom he had even seen in a ship’s cabin. He never washes his face and hands to come to the table, both of which are streaked with soot, lard oil, and goodness knows what else. The captain is considerably better in this respect, but his temper seems to be more uncontrollable than ever, and he shouts at the steward and Sammie as though they were on the foretop-sail-yard in a gale of wind. He seems to consider it a personal affront every time that the men come aft on Saturday nights to buy things from the slop-chest, which he throws at them with scant ceremony. Last night “Long John” Pettersen asked him for a pair of No. 10 rubber boots in his cowed, frightened way. “I ain’t got no tens,” cried the skipper; “here’s nines; take ’em and get out”; and he cast the boots at John, who promptly dodged, and they struck the stove with a great, clattering din. I will, no doubt, be accused of inhumanity in taking my wife to sea in such a vessel as this, but we had not the least notion that she would prove so different from what we supposed her to be, and few persons would suspect that such things would occur aboard of a ship which looked so neat and trim in the New York docks. Our previous experience at sea, we have since discovered, was not of any use to us as a guide as to what we might expect here. Indeed, in the worst weather off the Cape of Good Hope the “Mandalore’s” cabin, with its brightly polished open-grate and shining bird’s-eye maple panelling, would not have been discreditable to a well-found yacht. Latitude, 56° 14′ south; longitude, 66° west. +July 19+