The prevailing impression left on the minds of some survivors of the early training ship days is that the ship was "run" by the corporals. This, however, is probably over stating the case; youngsters are not able to discriminate accurately in such matters, and the fact that they were brought into more close and frequent contact with the corporals than with the superior officers would be liable to mislead them as to the influence really exercised by the latter. A vast amount of power was, however, undoubtedly vested in the corporals, who were able, if so disposed, to spite a cadet who might be obnoxious to them in a hundred ways: and, on the other hand, to favour those who thought it worth while to make up to them, calling "Good-night, Corporal Smith!" as he passed under their hammocks, in place of the muttered nickname or ribald rhyme indulged in by the more reckless. As, for instance, the following, aimed at the supposed verdance of the corporals in the matter of seamanship:-- Corporal Stumps and Corporal Taylor Went to sea in an old tin bailer: Stumps took the oars and Taylor the sails, And that is how they got on in the gales. Withering sarcasm, from some young hero who had just learned to make a bowline knot, and climb over the "futtocks" without blenching! Needless to say, seamanship days were more in favour with the majority than those devoted to the solution of problems in spherical trigonometry or the pursuit of the unspeakable "X." The seamanship, pure and simple, of those days contained much that was attractive to youth. Going aloft to loose, furl, or reef the topsails; sitting astride of the yardarm, in the post of honour, and calling "Light out to windward" or "Haul out to leeward" in an authoritative, if shrill and immature, voice; learning intricate knots, and getting well besmeared with tar and grease in the process of splicing a rope or stropping a block: all these were welcome instructions, during which time would fly. Then there were occasional cruises in the _Sealark_ brig, when the first lieutenant would take out some of the more advanced cadets and make them work the vessel, learning to "haul, reef, and steer," like Dibdin's proverbial "jolly tar"; though it is doubtful whether any of them could aspire to the counsel of perfection laid down in the same song, and "laugh at the winds as they roar."