The bags are piled in neat pyramids, or in other forms, sometimes on the booms before the boats, and sometimes in a square mass on the after part of the quarter-deck of a frigate.

It strikes my recollection that in most ships there is a sort of difficulty in finding a good place on which to stow the bags.
As soon as the forenoon watch is called, the between decks, on which the men live, is carefully cleaned, generally by what is called dry holy-stoning.

This is done by rubbing the deck with small smooth pieces of freestone, after a layer of well-dried sand has been sprinkled over it.

This operation throws up a good deal of dust; but it makes the deck white, which is the grand point aimed at.

The wings, the store-rooms, and the cockpits, undergo a similar dose of rubbing and scrubbing; in short, every hole and corner of the decks, both above and below stairs, as folks on shore would say, is swept, and swept, and swept again, on a Sunday morning, till the panting sweepers are half dead; indeed, the rest of the ship's company are worried out of all patience, from eight o'clock to half-past ten, with the eternal cry of "Pipe the sweepers!" followed by a sharp, interrupted whistle, not unlike the note of a pet canary.
What with cleaning the decks and cleaning themselves, the watch below have fully enough to do to get all ready by five bells.