So, having ascertained that Rose was engaged in hauling the steward over the coals for misplacing a case of honey and leaving matches where the rats could get at them, the captain entered his sister’s room. He felt rather guilty, but suitable attire for the mermaid must be had, and he tried to think that “Rosy wouldn’t mind,”—hoping, nevertheless, that the ceremonies would be over before she came on deck. “What a lot of clothes women have,” he soliloquized, examining the various gowns and other apparel hanging on pegs. His sister’s best garments were laid away in her trunks, and he spent considerable time in trying to choose what seemed to be the least valuable skirt and waist among the lot. He finally selected an old black alpaca for which Rose cared little, and a red dressing jacket for which she cared a great deal—it was the one she slipped on every morning when combing her hair. Just as he was leaving a green veil caught his eye. “That will make Mike look mysterious,” he thought. He took it, bundled the things up in a newspaper, and Mr. Rivers, the mate, conveyed them forward. The morning was hot, but a fine breeze tempered the heat and prevented discomfort. The seas chased each other along the vessel’s sides, and occasionally sobbed and gurgled in the lee scuppers as the bark leaned over to port. Just as the man at the wheel struck five bells, two strange figures climbed over the bows and gained the forecastle deck. They were the Old Man of the Seas and his companion. The royal Neptune’s head was encircled by an elaborate wooden crown, painted green, about which were twined several pieces of sea-weed. His long beard was carefully combed out, and swept down upon his chest with a truly patriarchal air. The principal garment was a long green toga (formerly a piano-cover), which extended from the neck to the heels, and was ornamented with sea-weed stitched on in various fantastic shapes. The arms and feet of the royal personage were entirely bare, and in his right hand he carried a substantial sceptre some five feet in length, having three prongs at the upper end. Neptune’s companion was a sight to behold. From the crown of her head to her waist, floated a wealth of yellow hair, of which any mermaid might well have been proud. This telling effect had been achieved by unbraiding and combing out several strands of sennit. The dressing-jacket and the alpaca skirt did not seem exactly “the thing” for a sea-nymph, and yet they fitted as well as could have been expected, except that the jacket was too tight across the shoulders. A straw hat covered with sea-weed was perched upon the damsel’s head, and the green veil concealed the fact that she had been freshly shaven. Her feet were encased in a pair of knit slippers. Depending from a belt around her waist were a small cracked hand-glass, a comb, and a flying-fish which had fallen on the deck that morning.