We plowed along bravely for a week or more, and without any conflict of jurisdiction among the captains worth mentioning.

The passengers soon learned to accommodate themselves to their new circumstances, and life in the ship became nearly as systematically monotonous as the routine of a barrack.

I do not mean that it was dull, for it was not entirely so by any means--but there was a good deal of sameness about it.

As is always the fashion at sea, the passengers shortly began to pick up sailor terms -- a sign that they were beginning to feel at home.

Half-past six was no longer half-past six to these pilgrims from New England, the South, and the Mississippi Valley, it was "seven bells"; eight, twelve, and four o'clock were "eight bells"; the captain did not take the longitude at nine o'clock, but at "two bells." They spoke glibly of the "after cabin," the "for'rard cabin," "port and starboard" and the "fo'castle." At seven bells the first gong rang; at eight there was breakfast, for such as were not too seasick to eat it.