applause of Captain Nickels’s fellow ship-masters, a class of men who, as a rule, are extremely reserved in their expressions of approbation. Latitude, 31° 34′ north; longitude, 42° 10′ west. +May 21+ Last night was windy, with a severe squall at one o’clock in the morning, with much rain, and we haven’t seen the sky-sails since six last evening. As I was leaning against the rail yesterday afternoon, looking at the mizzen-stay being set up by the starboard watch, the captain came up and said, “I’ve found out we’ve got another cap’n aboard, a fellow called Murphy, I believe. I’m going to send him aft to run the ship, and I’m going forrad to sleep in the fo’c’sle.” The skipper has a curious way of saying such things, and we never know whether to smile or not. Presently, though, he cast joking aside and began to blackguard Murphy in the language of the deep sea, saying that when he (the captain) had gone forward to see that the regular weekly washing out of the forecastle was properly done, some of the men did not seem to relish the process, and he heard Murphy grumble. Now, when a foremast hand has been somewhat disagreeable for a few days, and at length finds audible fault with various things, it is almost certain that some one hour in the succeeding twenty-four will be unpleasant for him. Thus with Murphy. After supper we were sitting on the deck-house, when Captain Scruggs came up and said that at eight bells the decision would be reached, whether or not there were two captains aboard. He was very nervous and couldn’t sit still; which reminds me that I have never yet seen a long-voyage skipper who wasn’t nervous at even the mildest encounter with the men. The evening shades fell early, by reason of heavy clouds, and at eight o’clock it was dark. Word was passed forward that both watches were to muster aft, and when eight bells had been struck, the eighteen seamen (including the bosuns) came trooping down from forward and grouped themselves at the after hatch. Here I sent my wife below, fearing scenes which she ought not to witness; while the captain at the same moment passed out of the cabin to the main deck and faced the men. It was an impressive, rugged scene. The wind was puffy and uncertain and the decks were wet; and though it was too dark to see the men’s expressions, their forms stood out clearly enough as they rolled from side to side with the heave of the ship, two broad beams of light shooting out from the cabin doors and illuminating the showers of spray that flew incessantly over the weather side; the great main-sail bridging over the scene with its huge curve, till lost in the gloom of the upper sails.