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Friday March 14. According to Capt. Johnson’s
rule, that Sunday weather or wind must always
differ from Saturday, last Sabbath was fine.
From breakfast till dinner we (the Captain and I)
walked the main deck talking, of “Beecher” [1] and
breeches and battles, making mention also of
a hymn. He learns and copies a good one each
first day, from the collection in the church service.
This time it was “A charge to keep, I have.” [2] The
elements have blustered some since the last
entry the southerly gale [3] then mentioned, followed
by another from the N.E. beginning Monday, and
blowing three days. The Oriental under close
reefed topsails [4], rolling badly. Coal shifted some,
again. Wednesday we stood on slippery places.
One sea knocked the under pinning [5] from Harry
and Bill so they lay side by side. Frank was trying
a smart pirouette on the tilting deck, and ended
by shooting like a bullet thirty feet into the air
scuppers [6]. Mr. Nelson tried the same game, and
barked [7] his shins against the topsail halyards [8]
block. Yesterday Tom and poor Bill again “swept
the deck”, and brought up “spoon fashion”, Tom hugging