If you can't pass your hammock through a foot ring, you'll go on the report.

Shake a leg there!" The rumor had gone about that it was the custom to "swat" the last man with a club, and there was a great scramble.

We found the hammock stowers in the nettings, which were large boxes on the gun deck, and our queer canvas beds were soon stowed away for the day.

As the reveille hour is too early for breakfast, coffee and hard-tack is served out by each mess cook.

The coffee is minus milk, but it is hot and palatable, and really acts as a tonic.
The first order of the day is to scrub down decks and clean ship generally, but, as the "Yankee" was still in the throes of preparation, we were spared that disagreeable work and permitted to arrange our belongings for the long voyage before us.