"The boatswain keeps his eye on the group of observers, and well knows when the 'sun is up' by the stir which takes place amongst the astronomers; or by noticing the master working out his latitude with a pencil on the ebony bar of his quadrant or on the edge of the hammock railing,--though, if he be one of your modern, neat-handed navigators, he carries his look-book for this purpose. In one way or other the latitude is computed as soon as the master is satisfied the sun has reached his highest altitude in the heavens. He then walks aft to the officer of the watch, and reports twelve o'clock, communicating also the degrees and minutes of the latitude observed. The lieutenant proceeds to the captain wherever he may be, and reports that it is twelve and that so-and-so is the latitude. The same formal round of reports is gone through, even if the captain be on deck and has heard every word spoken by the master, or even if he have himself assisted in making the observation.
"The captain now says to the officer of the watch, 'Make it twelve!' The officer calls out to the mate of the watch, 'Make it twelve!' The mate, ready primed, sings out to the quarter-master, 'Strike eight bells.'
"And lastly, the hard-a-weather old quarter-master, stepping down the ladder, grunts out to the sentry at the cabin door, 'Turn the glass, and strike the bell!'
"By this time the boatswain's call has been in his mouth for several minutes, his elbow in the air, and his finger on the stop, ready to send forth the glad tidings of a hearty meal. Not less ready, or less eager, are the groups of listeners seated at their snow-white deal tables below, or the crowd surrounding the coppers, with their mess-kids acting the part of drums to their impatient knuckles. At the first stroke of the bell, which, at this particular hour, is always sounded with peculiar vivacity, the officer of the watch exclaims to the boatswain, 'Pipe to dinner!'
"These words, followed by a glorious burst of shrill sounds, 'long drawn out,' are hailed with a murmur of delight by many a hungry tar and many a jolly marine. The merry notes are nearly drowned the next instant in the rattle of tubs and kettles, the voices of the ship's cook and his mates bawling out the numbers of the messes, as well as by the sound of feet tramping along the decks and down the ladders with the steaming ample store of provisions, such as set up and brace the seaman's frame, and give it vigor for any amount of physical action.