Here the steward, seizing a favorable moment, deftly served them with soup. And nothing but the utmost tact and skill in marine legerdemain enabled this functionary to convey the soup from the tureen to the plates. And when there, it required all the attention and care of the diners to get it from plate to lip. And, after all, more than half of it was spilled. "Thank goodness, that is over! The solids won't give us so much trouble," said the captain, handing his empty plate to the steward. The second course was served. But the motion of the ship increased so much in violence that the two diners were compelled to hold still more firmly on to the edge of the table with one hand, while they ate with the other, as they were tossed up and down. "You're a good sailor, sir!" bawled the captain as he pitched down out of sight. "Yes, thank Heaven!" shouted Ishmael, flying up. Then came a tremendous lurch of the ship. "Oh, I must see that wave!" cried the captain, imprudently climbing up to look out from the port-light above him. He had scarcely attained the desired position when there came another, an unprecedented toss of the ship, and the unlucky captain lay sprawling on the top of the table--with one wide-flung hand deep in the dish of mashed turnips and the other grasping the roast pig, while his bullet head was butted into Ishmael's stomach. "Blast the ship!" cried the discomfited old man--very unnecessarily, since there was "blast" enough, and to spare. "'Only a capful of wind,' captain! 'Only a capful of wind,'" said Ishmael, in a grave, matter-of-fact way, as he carefully assisted the veteran to rise. "Humph! humph! humph! I might have known you would have said that. Ha! glad none of the women are here to see me! I s'pose I've done for the mashed turnips and roast pig; and I shouldn't wonder if I had knocked your breath out of your body, too, sir," sputtered the old man, trying to recover his feet, a difficult matter amid the violent pitching of the ship. "Oh, you've not hurt me the least," said Ishmael, still rendering him all the assistance in his power. But this mishap put an end to the dinner. For the captain's toilet sadly needed renovating, and the table required putting right. Ishmael went up on deck--a nearly impossible feat for any landsman, even for one so strong and active as Ishmael was, to accomplish with safety to life and limb, for the ship was now fearfully pitched from side to side, and wallowing among the leaping waves. High as the wind was--blowing now a hurricane--the sky was perfectly clear, and the sun was near its setting. Ishmael found his old servant sitting propped up against the back of the wheel-house, looking out at one of the most glorious of all the glorious sights in nature--sunset at sea. "As soon as the sun has set you must go down and turn in, Morris. The wind is increasing, and it is no longer safe for a landsman like you to remain up here," said his master.