I did but little on this the first day of my entering upon my strange new duties. The steward distrusted my sea-legs, and he and his mate fetched the dishes from the galley. I hung about the fore-end of the cuddy, put the dirty plates into the basket, collected the knives and forks, went on errands to the pantry and the like. The picture of the cuddy was bright and hearty. Two large illuminated globes, in silver holders, swung under the ceiling; the light of them flashed in the mirrors and rippled with the movements of the ship in the polished woodwork. The captain sat at the head of the table, the doctor on his right. Captain Barrett and Lieutenant Chimmo sat together on the other side. Once or twice Captain Barrett screwed his glass into his eye and looked at me, but his gaze expressed no more than surprise to find me at work as a cuddy-servant. The others took not the least notice of me. Captain Barrett had a loud laugh and a hearty manner of speaking; Lieutenant Chimmo was thin of voice, stilted and affected, so stiff and snobbish as to satisfy me he was not a born gentleman. I wondered to find neither of the mates at the table, but I soon discovered that it was the custom on board the _Childe Harold_ for the mate of the watch to come below and eat after the captain was done, the other two mates joining him when possible, so as to make a separate table. The talk at the beginning was not very interesting. The convict guard, it seems, had come to the ship from Chatham, and neither Captain Barrett nor the lieutenant could say too much in abuse of that place. There was no society; dirt and drink formed the life of the town. Deptford, nay even Sheerness, was sweet and desirable compared to Chatham. The doctor ate and drank water with a little wine in it and seemed to listen. The captain frequently lifted his eyes to the skylight as though thinking more of the weather than of the officers’ chatter. Presently Captain Barrett, leaning across the table, said to the doctor: ‘Chimmo and I have been wondering whether you’d have any objection, after the fellow’s irons are knocked off, I mean, to Barney Abram coming aft to give us a few lessons in sparring? I dare say, captain, your sailmaker could contrive to furnish out an arrangement of canvas and oakum to answer for boxing-gloves.’ ‘It would be impossible to imagine any objection stronger than mine to your suggestion,’ said the doctor. ‘There’d be always a sentry at hand, you know,’ said Lieutenant Chimmo. ‘Let us change the subject,’ said the doctor severely.