CHAPTER VII.
BREAKFAST, DINNER, AND SUPPER.
Not only is the dinner-table a criterion of rank on board a man-of-war, but also the dinner hour.

He who dines latest is the greatest man; and he who dines earliest is accounted the least.

In a flag-ship, the Commodore generally dines about four or five o'clock; the Captain about three; the Lieutenants about two; while _the people_ (by which phrase the common seamen are specially designated in the nomenclature of the quarter-deck) sit down to their salt beef exactly at noon.
Thus it will be seen, that while the two estates of sea-kings and sea-lords dine at rather patrician hours--and thereby, in the long run, impair their digestive functions--the sea-commoners, or _the people_, keep up their constitutions, by keeping up the good old-fashioned, Elizabethan, Franklin-warranted dinner hour of twelve.
Twelve o'clock! It is the natural centre, key-stone, and very heart of the day.

At that hour, the sun has arrived at the top of his hill; and as he seems to hang poised there a while, before coming down on the other side, it is but reasonable to suppose that he is then stopping to dine; setting an eminent example to all mankind.

The rest of the day is called _afternoon_; the very sound of which fine old Saxon word conveys a feeling of the lee bulwarks and a nap; a summer sea--soft breezes creeping over it; dreamy dolphins gliding in the distance.