"Salt horse," said David, "no, I don't want to eat any kind of horse-meat, salt or fresh. Do we really have to eat horse on this ship?" Haines laughed, and said,-- "No, my lad; you don't have to eat horse-meat, though the stuff they give us might just as well be out of a horse as from an ox. Salt horse is the name they give to the beef they salt down for sailors' use. It ain't the choicest kind of chicken cutlet in the world, by no means. Anything's good enough for a sailor, and they give us the meat of bulls and worked out oxen cut up and packed in brine and kept till it's as hard as a handspike. That's salt horse. "We had scouse to-day for dinner," continued Haines, "and I'll go and see if I can't get you some. I told the cook that you two greenhorns might be getting alongside of your appetites, and if so you'd want something to eat." Bill went away, leaving David and myself wondering what scouse could be. In a little while he returned with a dish of meat, stewed with potatoes and pieces of bread. Then we knew what scouse was. Later on in our voyage, when the potatoes gave out, we had it of stewed meat and bread only. We ate some of the stew, and drank a pot of coffee which Bill brought along at the same time as the scouse. Then Bill left us and we settled down to sleep. We slept better than at any time since we came on board, and felt much refreshed when we waked. We also felt hungry, which Joe Herne remarked was a very good sign, and went off to the cook's galley to see what he could get for us. He brought a good-sized piece of the so-called salt horse, and divided it between us. We ate this, along with some bread, and then concluded to get up. "Stay where you are, my lads, stay where you are," said Joe in a fatherly sort of way; "if you go on deck now you'll run the risk of being set to work, and you're not quite ready for it. To-morrow you'll be all right, and can do your share. Take it easy to-day, and keep quiet." Very soon I realized the force of his advice, as I found on trying to stand up that I was decidedly weak. We spent the rest of that day and all of the night in our bunks, but the next morning we went out to breakfast when our watches were called, and did our share of eating. From that time forward we had our sea-legs on, as Bill Haines expressed it, and our appetites were like those of young tigers. Sea-sickness had no further terrors for either David or myself.