appearance of every page was perfect. CHAPTER XII. THE MATE'S WORK (IN A SAILING SHIP)--_continued_. Finding that this log-book business takes me farther than I anticipated, I judged it best to break off the last chapter somewhat abruptly, since I find that the average reader is not partial to long chapters, and I have rigidly limited mine to eight pages of manuscript. A log-book is popularly supposed to be (and certainly should be) an absolutely truthful record of day-to-day happenings, of the ship's progress, and of the weather conditions. And while there is no room for literary ability, there is no doubt that ideal log-book keeping is a fine art. In the small space at disposal, to state succinctly what has occurred, rigidly excluding the irrelevant, but carefully noting everything that is of importance for owners, underwriters, or lawyers to know--this is an accomplishment by no means general, and one that might be more carefully cultivated than it is. For it is only stating the baldest fact to declare that no day passes at sea wherein there is nothing worthy of record. The loss to literature and science, through the lamentable habit of scamping log-book remarks, has been incalculable, while the loss to the individuals themselves is equally incapable of assessment. Remembering how splendid a training it is for any one to record, as he roams about the world, all that he possibly can that he sees of interest, one must be filled with regret that this practice is so seldom carried on. If it were, the mate's log-book would be a mine wherein might be found much fine gold--there is no room for dross. And the habit, growing by what it fed upon, would soon compel an ardent observer to keep a private log-book, where he could enter those things for which the ship's log-book afforded no room, and the result would be educational and refining in the highest degree.