"Over hook!" shouted Father Grafton, as soon as the crew began to muster along. "Bear a hand, boys, and stand by the windlass! Overhaul your fall well! Now then, Bunker, where are you? Now's your chance--smooth time! Here, Blacksmith, you belong to the hold gang. I shall put you in the waist gang, too. Stay here in the gangway, and lend a hand with the boatsteerers." The hook was soon in, and Mr. Grafton in his stage under the main chains with a long spade, the second mate in the forward stage with another. The old man had become ubiquitous, and was in twenty places at one and the same time. "Here, Kelly, I shall appoint you captain of the scoop-net. Get a strap-tub along here ready to sling by the backstays, and get your net all ready. When they cut round the head, stand by to save all the slivers, and if you let a piece of fat go astern as big as a half-dollar, I shall stop it out of your lay. Hoist away that fall! Heave the windlass some of ye, and get the slack in! Here, Collins, go aft there, and stay with the carpenter to turn grindstone. Keep your ears peeled for the word 'sharp spade!' from over the side, and don't make them sing out a dozen times or I shall be hunting you up myself. Boatsteerers! get the short spades all ready to use in the waist? That's right. Hook take well, Mr. Grafton? Here, pick up that monkey-rope, Fisher, and keep it out of the grease. Heave away that windlass? Where are _you_, Jeff, with the song? Open your throat--Mr. Dunham, be careful and don't cut your blanketpiece too wide. Sharp spade into the after stage! Mr. Johnson, let me whet this boarding-knife for you. I used to be a good hand at it. Avast heaving, there! Keep your ears open, and mind the word!" All circumstances being favorable, the head was cut off before breakfast, and the body all in the blubber-room by nine o'clock, Captain Upton driving a spade into it with a perfect gusto, and slashing it into horse pieces almost as fast as it was stowed in the hatchway. The windlass went round "slip slop" to the lively strains chanted by Old Jeff, and chorused by all hands in various keys, making the clear air vocal with discord. I made considerable progress in the technicalities of "Board O!" and "In strap and toggle!" as well as in the equally important mystery of preserving my _aplomb_ on the greasy deck, having been on my beam ends only twice during the whole operation. To the startling hail from the old man, "What are you doing down on deck? That's _my_ place!" I made no audible reply but a laugh; but mentally responded, that if that were the old man's place, he was quite welcome to keep it.