Chapter 30 - Page 2

a block-maker's store, heaped up with lignum-vitae
sheeves and wheels.

Through low arches in the bulkhead beyond, you peep in upon
distant vaults and catacombs, obscurely lighted in the far end,
and showing immense coils of new ropes, and other bulky articles,
stowed in tiers, all savouring of tar.

But by far the most curious department of these mysterious store-
rooms is the armoury, where the spikes, cutlasses, pistols, and
belts, forming the arms of the boarders in time of action, are
hung against the walls, and suspended in thick rows from the
beams overhead. Here, too, are to be seen scores of Colt's patent
revolvers, which, though furnished with but one tube, multiply
the fatal bullets, as the naval cat-o'-nine-tails, with a
cannibal cruelty, in one blow nine times multiplies a culprit's
lashes; so that when a sailor is ordered one dozen lashes, the
sentence should read one hundred and eight. All these arms are
kept in the brightest order, wearing a fine polish, and may truly
be said to _reflect_ credit on the Yeoman and his mates.

Among the lower grade of officers in a man-of-war, that of Yeoman
is not the least important. His responsibilities are denoted by
his pay. While the _petty officers_, quarter-gunners, captains of
the tops, and others, receive but fifteen and eighteen dollars a
month--but little more than a mere able seamen--the Yeoman in an
American line-of-battle ship receives forty dollars, and in a
frigate thirty-five dollars per month.

He is accountable for all the articles under his charge, and on
no account must deliver a yard of twine or a ten-penny nail to
the boatswain or carpenter, unless shown a written requisition
and order from the Senior Lieutenant. The Yeoman is to be found
burrowing in his underground store-rooms all the day long, in
readiness to serve licensed customers. But in the counter, behind
which he usually stands, there is no place for a till to drop the
shillings in, which takes away not a little from the most agreeable
part of a storekeeper's duties. Nor, among the musty, old account-books
in his desk, where he registers all expenditures of his stuffs, is there
any cash or check book.

The Yeoman of the Neversink was a somewhat odd specimen of a Troglodyte.
He was a little old man, round-shouldered, bald-headed, with great
goggle-eyes, looking through portentous round spectacles, which he
called his _barnacles_. He was imbued with a wonderful zeal for the
naval service, and seemed to think that, in keeping his pistols and
cutlasses free from rust, he preserved the national honour untarnished.
After _general quarters_, it was amusing to watch his anxious air
as the various _petty officers_ restored to him the arms used at