Saturday is essentially a cleaning day, and nothing is overlooked. Decks are made as white and clean as possible, cables are whitewashed, guns are burnished; in short, everything appears brand new. The captain's inspection takes place every Sunday morning. So particular was our captain that he would never hesitate to descend into magazines to inspect every little corner, although the whitewash on the sides of these small rooms rubbed against his uniform at each movement. It was ever a great load removed from the mind of the petty officer who had charge of flats and certain parts of the deck when his inspection was over. But if fault had been found great was their fear. The payment of the crew, as in all ships, took place on the first day of each month. "Hands to muster for payment, soap and tobacco!" would shout the boatswain's mate. Any man was at liberty to forego the last two items, or the whole three for that matter. As a rule, however, most of the crew took up their money and bar of soap--two very needful requisites, the non-smokers preferring their two shillings in lieu of the two pounds of tobacco the value of which was deducted from the next month's payment. The First Newfoundland Cruise Now for the first fishery cruise. Halifax was our next port of call after leaving Bermuda. Halifax seemed dear to us after we had paid our first visit there, the reason being rather a curious one. Bum-boat men were wont to visit the ships with large quantities of sausages, which were quickly bought up, being regarded as a luxury. I have seen the cook's galley crowded with seamen frying these sausages, and on several occasions a sentry was placed to prevent a crush. Halifax! Sausages! The two names were synonymous to our crew, and even to-day I cannot partake of sausages without my thoughts wandering off to Halifax. Who can tell the laws of mental association! It was here that I first saw the present Prince of Wales, who then was in command of the gun-boat 'Thrush.' Ere leaving this port each man of the three fishery ships was served out with a pair of sea-boots and warm underclothing, in preparation for the intense cold we should feel on the Newfoundland and Labrador coasts. I understand the Canadian Government were responsible for this, kindly distribution. We left for St. John's, Newfoundland, and this port was our headquarters for the next few months. In cruising around the island from time to time, the most awe-inspiring sights were the ice-bergs and ice-fields which we passed day by day. Forteau Bay, the place where the gun-boat 'Lily' was wrecked, was pointed out to me. Sad to relate, we lost a shipmate on this voyage. Scudding along one morning under a fair wind with all sail set, and the crew cleaning guns, suddenly there arose the cry "Man overboard! Away lifeboat!" The order was "Heave to!" The poor fellow, however, had sunk beneath the sea almost instantly. The water being so bitterly cold it was supposed the cramp seized him.