Jacky sleeps in a hammock strung upon hooks to the beams of the deck above him. When he turns out, he lashes his hammock with its lashing, and stores it in the nettings,--the troughs for the purpose at the sides of the ship,--where it must stay until night. If Jack wants to sleep in the meanwhile, he chooses the softest spot he can find on a steel-clad deck; and he can sleep there, too, in the broad glare of daylight, a hundred feet passing him, and the usual run of ship’s calls and noises droning in his ears. Jacky’s food is provided by the government, while his superior of the wardroom has to pay his own mess-bill. He is allowed, in addition to his pay, the sum of nine dollars per month, and this must purchase everything, except such luxuries as he may choose to buy from his pay. The ship’s paymaster is allowed a certain amount of money to furnish the supplies, and between him and the ship’s cook the problem is settled. At the end of the month, if the amount served out is in excess of the computation for rations, the brunt falls upon the “Jack-of-the-Dust,”--the assistant to the paymaster’s yeoman,--who has the work of accurately measuring the rations which are given to the cook of the ship. The ship’s cook receives from the government from twenty-five to thirty-five dollars a month, according to the size of the ship, and, in addition, certain money perquisites from the different messes, which gives him a fair average. He has complete charge of the ship’s galley and the cooks of the messes, and must be able to concoct a dainty French dish for the wardroom as well as the usual “salt horse” or “dog” for the Jacky. “Salt horse” is the sea-name for pork. “Dog” is soaked hardtack, mixed with molasses and fried; and, though it is not pleasant twenty-nine days out of the month, it is healthful, and tastes good to a hard-working sailor with the salt of the sea producing a splendid appetite. The mess-tables hang by iron supports to the beams of the deck above, and when the mess has been served and eaten,--as only Jack knows how to eat,--they are triced up into their places, and all is cleaned and made ship-shape in the twinkling of an eye. A half-hour is allowed for dinner, and this time is kept sacred for Jack’s use. A red pennant flies from the yard-arm, that all may know that the sailor-man is eating and must not be disturbed by any importunate or curious callers. In the dog-watches of the evening, after supper, from six to eight P.M., the blue-jacket is given his leisure. It is then that pipes are smoked, vigilance relaxed, boxing and wrestling bouts are in order, and Jacky settles down for his rest after the day of labor. From somewhere down on the gun-deck comes the tinkle of a guitar or banjo, and a tuneful, manly voice sings the songs of France or Spain, and, better still, of beloved America, for the shipmates.