The navigator also told our commanding officer, in the usual stereotyped nautical formula, that it was twelve o'clock. "All right," replied the commodore. "Make it so!" Accordingly, the sentry on the forecastle struck Eight Bells, and the men were piped down to dinner; the boatswain's mates sounding their shrill calls through the ship as the echo of the last stroke of the clapper on the side of the ship's bell ceased to reverberate in the noisy air, which was filled with the creaking of the blocks aloft and the hum of the wind, the sea breaking against our counter alongside in a sullen fashion as if old Neptune were disappointed at letting us slip out of his clutches! At One Bell, half-an-hour later, when the grog was served out to the men--we boys, of course, having none of this, nor wanting it either--a rather amusing incident occurred. Some of the chaps on board, though passed for ordinary seamen, were `green hands'; and the older sailors that leavened the company, used to crack jokes on these and `pull their legs' pretty considerably, until the green ones got too knowing to be taken in. One fellow we had with us in the starboard watch, however, seemed to be so naturally `raw' that nothing served to `salt' him; and he was the butt not only of his own mess, but of the whole ship's company. On this occasion Harris, a leading seaman, took a fine rise out of him. "Say, Joblins," he called out, as he was going to light his pipe to have a smoke forwards, we boys having set out the spittoons for the men along the `'tween decks,' "got your grog all right, old ship?" "Oh ay," answered the other. "I'se droonk un." "But I means yer second 'lowance." "Hay?" said Mr Johnny Raw, his eyes beginning to visibly brighten. "What fur be that?" "Yer second 'lowance," repeated the joker Harris. "All the noo hands can git it if they axes fur it." "Now, yer bean't a-joking?" "No," declared Harris unblushingly, winking to the others around. "Joking--why should I, man?" The greenhorn grew quite excited at the prospect of another tot of grog after his pipe. "Say, shipmate," said he, rising from the bench at the mess-table where he had been sitting having a whiff, "tell us wot I shall do fur to get un?" "Take hold on that `spud-net' there," said Harris, pointing to the net in which the potatoes had been boiled for the mess, the other fellows near turning their backs so that Joblins couldn't see them laugh as he proceeded to carry out the joker's suggestion. "Ah, ye've got it all right, then? Now, Joblins, ye can take that to the upper deck, where they're now sarvin' out the grog for the port watch, and tell the `Jaunty' that yer come fur yer second 'lowance." Would you believe it? Well, whether you do so or not, all I have to say is that the innocent yokel actually went up on deck with the potato-net in his hand, holding it out in front of him as he took his station beside those standing round the grog-tub.