In the first place, when a green hand engages to perform a voyage, he knows nothing at all about what clothing he requires. The shark, perhaps, tells him that the ship, being bound to the Indian Ocean, there is no necessity for him providing woolen clothing, and palms off upon him an assortment of blue dungaree raiment, precisely like the summer suits of the population our city supports at the Blockley almshouse. One of these suits will last him about a week; but as he gets into high southern latitudes he finds that he requires woolen clothing, and goes to the slop-chest, imagining that he can get what he wants at a reasonable price. If he inquires how much such an article is valued at, the captain will tell him that he does not know; but, nevertheless, he must have the clothes, and therefore takes them, and thus his account goes on increasing during the voyage. Just before the ship returns home, his bill is handed to him by the captain, and what is his dismay to discover that he is indebted to the owners of the slop-chest, one hundred dollars, or more, independent of the outfitter’s bill. He finds a woolen shirt is charged to him at the extortionate price of three dollars and a half; pumps, worth fifty cents a pair, at a dollar and a half; the commonest kind of rawhide boots, five dollars a pair; a frieze jacket, seven dollars; thread, six cents a skein; and suspenders, such as could be bought anywhere else for five cents a pair, aboard ship are sold for half a dollar. These prices are not exaggerated, I copy them from my ship’s bill. Beside these extortions an additional twenty-five per cent. is charged on all money advanced in foreign ports by the captain to the crew; six per cent. interest per annum is our legal rate, and I for one should not grumble at paying for cash advanced at that rate; but some of our money we only received seven months previous to our arrival home, and I cannot but think that a charge of twenty-five per cent. for the use of money a trifle over six months, is exorbitant and dishonest. Still there are Shylocks in the world who would absorb the last dollar of earnings from the sailor, after years of exposure to wind and weather have rightfully earned for him his scanty wages.