Spoke the ship “Henry,” of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, bound for California. The heavy gales of wind still continued, with rain, hail, snow, and sleet at intervals, until Friday, the 8th of February, when we found we had passed the Horn, and were fairly in the Pacific. About this time an occurrence transpired which shows a seaman’s love of a good joke, even at the expense of an officer. It appears our third mate, Mr. K., whom we have before spoken of as a very pompous, great-I-and-little-you sort of a man, was much opposed to the men enjoying themselves in any manner if he could prevent it, and, for this reason, they were continually devising some plan to torment him. He had given express orders that no one of the watch should go below during their watch on deck. Mackey, who much preferred the warm forecastle to the cold deck, would skulk below every opportunity he could get. Mr. K. went forward on this occasion, and, as usual, Mackey was enjoying a fine nap on a chest. Mr. K. ordered him on deck, telling him “if he caught him in the forecastle again that night he would break his head,” and then strutted aft. It was not long after this before one of the watch sang out, in a voice just loud enough to be heard aft, “Mackey, you had better come up on deck; if Mr. K. catches you down in the forecastle, he will surely kill you.” Then another sings out, “Mackey, come up out of that; the third mate is coming.” Mr. K., who had been listening, rushes forward with a determined air; “he would show that Mackey that he had got to walk chalk, or he would break his head.” Arriving at the forecastle scuttle, he cried out, in a voice of thunder, “Come up here, you blackguard, and bear a hand, too.” No answer. “Do you hear me? If I come down there, I’ll kill you deader than the d—l.” No answer yet. Mr. K., now fairly boiling with rage, cries out, “I’ll fetch you out of that; I’ll show you a trick or two;” and, on turning to go down, espied some one dodging around the foremast that bore a striking resemblance to the missing Mackey. Quickly coming up again, he saw that it was really Mackey, who had not left the deck. He then turned to the men, quite chopfallen, telling them he “never wanted to hear any more such stuff,” and, cursing them until he was satisfied, he turned and went aft, leaving the watch convulsed with laughter. As we were now fairly in the Pacific, with pleasant weather and fine breezes, steering to the northward, we put the boats upon the cranes, the anchors on the bows, and cleared up generally, all hands rejoicing that the stormy Cape had been at length passed.