"Pitch" one easily gets from _pix_ (Latin); "tar" as easily from the Saxon _tare_, _tyr_. "Junk," old rope, is from the Latin _juncus_, a bulrush,--the material used along the Mediterranean shore for calking; "oakum," from the Saxon _oecumbe_, or hemp. The verb "calk" may come from the Danish _kalk_, chalk,--to rub over,--or from the Italian _calafatare_. The now disused verb "to pay" is from the Italian _pagare_;--it survives only in the nautical aphorism, "Here's the Devil to _pay_,"--that is, to pitch the ship,--"and no pitch hot." In handing the sails, "to loose" is good English,--"to furl" is Armorican, and belongs to the Mediterranean class of words. "To rake," which is applied to spars, is from the Saxon _racian_, to incline;--"to steeve," which is applied to the bowsprit, and often pronounced "stave," is from the Italian _stivare_. When we get below-decks, we find "cargo" to be Spanish,--while "ballast" (from _bat_, a boat, and _last_, a load) is Saxon. A ship in ballast comes from the Baltic,--a vessel and cargo from the Bay of Biscay. Sailors must eat; but there is a significant distinction between merchant-seamen and man-o'-war's-men. The former is provided for at the "caboose," or "camboose," (Dutch, _kombuis_); the latter goes to the "galley," (Italian, _galera_, in helmet, primitively). This distinction is fast dying out,--the naval term superseding the mercantile,--just as in America the title "captain" has usurped the place of the more precise and orthodox term, "master," which is now used only in law-papers. The "bowsprit" is a compound of English and Dutch. The word "yard" is English; the word "boom," Dutch. The word "reef" is Welsh, from _rhevu_, to thicken or fold; "tack" and "sheet" are both Italian; "deck" is German. Other words are the result of contractions. Few would trace in "dipsey," a sounding-lead, the words "deep sea"; or in "futtocks" the combination "foot-hooks,"--the name of the connecting-pieces of the floor-timbers of a ship. "Breast-hook" has escaped contraction. Sailors have, indeed, a passion for metamorphosing words,--especially proper names. Those lie a little out of our track; but two instances are too good to be omitted:--The "Bellerophon," of the British navy, was always known as the "Bully-ruffian," and the "Ville de Milan," a French prize, as the "Wheel-'em-along." Here you have a random bestowal of names which seems to defy all analysis of the rule of their bestowal.