The cadet ships do a great deal for sea-apprentices in this respect. Not that they prepare a lad for the utter reliance upon himself which will be suddenly thrust upon him in almost any ship he joins, for parents would object; but still it may be taken for granted that a lad who has been through a _Worcester_ or a _Conway_ course will not be nearly so helpless as one who has come direct to sea from some quiet country home. I was once on board a large barque as A.B., where every apprentice (there were six) was on his first voyage. Sixty pounds each had been paid as premium for them, and an average of thirty-five pounds each for their outfit. They were nice boys; but one day, when we had been a month at sea, I was invited into their house. And the first thing I said to my host was, "I wonder what your poor mother would say if she could see this place." It _smelt_; that rank aroma which is the product of deficient ventilation, foul clothes, and stale food, caught me by the throat as I entered. The bunks of those young gentlemen were like the bins in a rag-dealer's shop, their chests were little, if any, better, and there was a thriving population of vermin of various sorts. Not a plate, knife, fork, spoon, or mug had been washed since our departure from London. In short, the place was like the abode of a group of savages, who had suddenly been introduced to 'board-ship life, and given the habiliments and utensils of civilization to play with. I made a few remarks to my young friend upon the state of affairs, to which he replied, with a shrug of his shoulders-- "Yes, it's pretty bad, I know; but what can we do? Nobody ever comes in here, nobody seems to care what we do when we're below, as long as we're out on deck at eight bells. I'm sick of it. I've written a letter to my father to tell him I've had enough of it already. I didn't know I was coming to sea to live like a pig, and to be taught nothing but sweeping up decks and cleaning out pig-sties and water-closets."