He was thought to be too old a sailor for a young captain to manage, and was not engaged. Soon a young man applied, with more modest demeanor, and he was secured. The rest of the crew were soon picked out. Wishing to choose for myself who should sail with me for so many months, the shipping master was told to send on board any good men who applied to him, giving the preference to Norwegians and Swedes, these being, in my opinion, both in seamanship and docility, the best class of sailors that man our vessels. Germans and Scotchmen he was told to favor next, then Englishmen, and lastly Irishmen, for these, though often capital seamen, do not as readily as some others endure privations without grumbling, and are too strong republicans to be always submissive subjects of a despotic government such as that of shipboard. American sailors unfortunately are not often in the choice. They are soon promoted from the forecastle, if they enter it, or else after short service find they can do better on shore, than by leading a dog's life at sea. One afternoon in September all the crew were mustered on board. Captain Jack Frost came alongside with his tug boat, and his cheery voice hailed, "Are you all ready, Cap.? Pass out your lines!" The owner said, "Good-by," and moving towards his yacht, added, "I'm going to give you a race down the harbor." The fasts were cast off, the bark was tugged out into the stream; then with topsails set before a strong nor'wester she showed the towboat the advisability of getting out of her way. We should have thought she was sailing fast, had not the yacht "Vesta" overtaken us, crossed our bow, and boomed away down Broad Sound, under jib and mainsail. Just inside of Boston light we rounded to and let the pilot get into the canoe from the station pilot boat; then, filling away, the course was shaped for Cape Cod and the voyage had begun. The anchors being secured, the top-gallantsails were loosed, and leaving all the accompanying fleet astern, away we sped, ten knots an hour, and in four hours passed the Race Light. The crew numbered eight men and two boys before the mast, a cook, cabin boy, two mates and captain, fifteen all told, besides one passenger, a young gentleman travelling for health. Owing to the late hour in the day at which we sailed, the men had taken several parting glasses with their friends, and some were inclined to be troublesome. The officers managed judiciously and kept them quiet, but the mate remarked, he thought we had "a pretty hard crew." The watches were chosen and the port watch sent below at eight o'clock, in accordance with the old maxim "the master takes her out and the mate brings her home." By this rule the watch variously known as the second mate's, starboard, or captain's watch, takes eight hours on deck the first night outward bound, and the mate's, or port watch, does the same the first night of the homeward bound passage.