Perhaps we may change our opinion before the voyage is over. Perhaps we may not. I have seen enough of the skipper to know that this voyage is not going to be exquisitely pleasant for ourselves, the mates, or the men. A little disturbance started this forenoon in the following manner: A barrel of carrots, onions, and parsnips had been rolled under the forecastle-head by the mate, who then forgot all about it; so that, instead of giving it to the cook, he allowed the green stuff to wilt and wither in the heat of the past forty-eight hours. The captain heard of this for the first time to-day, and ever since not a single thing has gone right for him. We first noticed that something was amiss with the skipper by the tone he used to the helmsman at eleven o’clock, when he told him to “hold her up a little more.” The man obeyed instantly, but made an inexcusable mistake: he forgot to answer, and in this he was, of course, wrong, for he should have either repeated the order or said, “Ay, ay, sir.” The captain then told him in forcible language what would happen to men who failed to answer. We thought that the matter was settled, when the mate came aft from the break of the poop on a run, thrust his fist through the wheel-house window in the man’s face and snarled, “Now, luk ud ’ere, ain’t I told yer to answer w’en yer spoken to, eh? Well, you just do it, or _I’ll_ teach yer to open yer mouth; I’ll _fix_ yer.” Innocent words, comparatively speaking, but no one can imagine the intensity of emphasis on the “fix,” or the malignant, hazing tone which the mate threw into his threat. The skipper had just “jumped on” the mate, and, of course, the latter must find some one to retaliate on, and here was an opportunity. The boy Sammie, too, came in for his share of attention, but it must be said that this slothful youth deserved it; and, finally, the skipper and mate came to words at dinner about a barrel of hard bread. Captain Scruggs graduated years ago with high honors in the art of nagging, and at last he provoked Mr. Goggins beyond endurance. “Goddlemighty, Cap’n Scruggs, if I ain’t seen no ship-bread, ’ow could I break it out?” We expected an explosion from the old man, but he only tugged fiercely at his whiskers and shut the mate up with, “All right, sir; all right. We won’t continue the argument.” As the day wore on his temper grew worse and worse; and when I called his attention to a school of fish playing alongside, supposing that he would like to see them, he answered tartly, “Very well, sir; you’d better jump overboard and catch ’em.” I thought it best not to reply; but it was very annoying, for some of the men hard by smiled broadly.