These remarks contributed to keep up the spirits of all the party, which had naturally begun to flag. As the day advanced the heat became greater and greater. They did what they could to keep themselves cool; they wetted their shirts and their clothes, but they very speedily became dry again. The evening of another day was approaching; nearly four-and-twenty hours had passed since they had taken any food, and not a biscuit had anyone by chance in his pocket. At length, after rummaging in his pocket for some time, Sam Potts drew out a black-looking lump of about the size of the end joint of his thumb. "Hurrah!" he exclaimed; "here's a treasure! Jerry, ask the young gentlemen if they'd like to have a chaw, I suppose they won't take it amiss, seeing we're all in the same boat." The midshipmen thanked Sam, but declined his offer, feeling that it was more likely to increase their thirst than to lessen it. Jerry, however, expressed his gratitude to his mate, who generously gave him half his precious quid, which he immediately stuffed into his cheek. "Ah, this is something like!" he exclaimed; "bless my heart, it's like meat and drink. Them as never was out at sea in an open boat, without as much food as would cover a sixpence, they shouldn't cry out and abuse us poor fellows for taking a chaw, or enjoying a blow of baccy when we've a chance." "You're right, mate," said Sam; "I'd have given my last golden guinea for a quid, and I believe it will help to keep our bodies and souls together better nor anything else we was likely to find out here."