But the watch that have been working all the forenoon on an empty stomach are ravenous. At eight bells (noon) they come below, and eat like starving men. If it were not for the filling "whack" of duff, though, their hunger would soon be destroyed, not satisfied. In some ships the cook is not allowed to make duff, for the same reason that he is not allowed to cook cracker-hash; and then the men's principal meal on flour days is a sad business. A roll of just-made bread, seldom palatable, and a chunk of salt beef, is not a fair meal for a hard-worked man under such conditions; and in these days of cheap, good, and tasteful food ashore, it is not to be wondered at that seamen before the mast embrace the earliest opportunity available of quitting such positions and getting work ashore, where even the convicts in our prisons are far better fed. This is the more to be deplored because it is so totally unnecessary. The difference between a good-living ship and a bad one to the sailor may be expressed in the simplest terms. It is not true that the sailor is never satisfied. Men will speak for years afterwards of a ship in the most grateful terms where, instead of the incessant salt meat, they had a fresh mess three times a week, where potatoes and onions were served out occasionally, and where butter and pickles were given. And these things make a mighty small difference to the total expenses of the voyage--nay, by slightly reducing the quantity of salt meat, the expenditure might be kept almost, if not quite, at the same level. And then good cooks would become the rule. American ships have earned their reputation for good living solely on the strength of their bountiful supply of potatoes and onions and flour, their lavishness in the matter of dried apples and cranberries, and their high standard in the matter of cooks. And Americans are not extravagant in business matters, either. They know how to run a ship economically as well as any seafarers in the world, and they think it is the most wasteful thing imaginable to starve a ship's company for the sake of a little attention to detail. This is a vital principle with them. They will work their crew to the last ounce, often in what cannot by any stretch of courtesy be called necessary tasks. I have been with men who have actually known what it is to be slung aloft scraping yards in a gale of wind at night; but they said that when they got below there was always a tasty meal ready for them, and any neglect on the part of the cook would have resulted immediately in his feeling the burden of severe suffering.