“i don’t believe a word of it!”
“it’s true, nevertheless, payne.”
“but think what it means, my dear fellow. why, such a thing has never been dreamed of before on a naval academy practice ship. plebes give an entertainment! pshaw! you’re crazy!”
“here comes blakely. he’ll tell you whether i am right or not.”
the speaker pointed along the starboard part of the monongahela’s spar deck. blakely was sauntering forward.
he halted in front of the two and glanced inquiringly at naval cadet payne, who had beckoned to him.
“what’s up?” he asked.
“why, this chump here has been telling me a ghost story. he says the old man has given the new fourth class permission to hold an entertainment on the gun deck.”
“that’s straight, ferguson.”
“wh-what!”
“the plebes, headed by that very gally function, faraday, sent in a request this morning asking captain brookes’ permission to give a minstrel entertainment on the forward gun deck. the old man gave his consent at once, and it is to be held saturday night.”
“well, that beats the nation!” exclaimed ferguson, with a prolonged whistle. “fellows, the service is going to the bowows. i’ve been a naval cadet in the service of these great and glorious united states almost four years, and never have i dreamed of such a state of affairs.”
“it’s all the fault of that faraday,” muttered payne. “he’s kicked up more rows than enough since he entered the academy last month.”
“he’s too fresh.”
“that’s what.”
blakely looked over the side at the vast stretch of shimmering water surrounding the practice ship, and smiled.
he was a young man of very fair and even temper, was walt blakely, member of the first class, and captain of the naval academy football team. he rather liked “that cheeky plebe,” clif faraday, and he secretly admired him for that cheekiness, but he also believed firmly in the divine right of the upper classes.
therefore when payne and ferguson broke out in loud remonstrance he added his voice to theirs.
“the truth of the matter is,” said ferguson, resentfully, “the old man thinks the sun rises and sets in faraday’s vicinity.”
“sure thing,” agreed payne. “ever since faraday jumped from the top and saved nanny gote from drowning, he’s in luck.”
“it was a splendid act,” commented blakely.
“yes, but it’s no reason for letting the plebes upset all the academy traditions. why——”
“there’s faraday now,” interrupted payne, nodding his head toward an approaching figure.
clif glanced quizzically at the little group as he passed, and then joined several fourth class men gathered on the forecastle.
payne and ferguson reddened slightly.
“he looked as if he knew we were talking about him,” sniffed the latter.
“he probably does,” said blakely, dryly. “he’s no fool. he knows his new move will make more row than a bunch of magpies.”
“i’d like to punch his head.”
“don’t try it, dear boy. he’s good at that work himself. he knocked sharpe out about as neatly as a prize fighter could. what’s that call?”
the shrill blast of a boatswain’s whistle sounded along the deck. as the tremulous piping died out, a hoarse voice called out:
“all-l hands reef topsails!”
“more drill,” grumbled ferguson, moving off. “we’ve had nothing but drill since we left annapolis.”
“practice makes perfect,” grinned blakely, as he started toward his station.
the quiet decks of the old monongahela speedily became a scene of bustling activity. the boatswain’s call brought the watch tumbling aft. the hatches poured forth a steady stream of active, healthy lads clad in snowy duck.
the first lieutenant and his assistant, the officer of the deck, took their stand upon the break of the after deck.[pg 104] the captain sauntered from his cabin prepared to watch proceedings with a critical eye.
all was ready.
“aloft topmen!” shouted the first lieutenant, sonorously, through his trumpet.
at the words a number of nimble cadets, members of the first and third classes, run up the rigging in a mad race for the top.
on board a vessel like the monongahela there generally exists a strong rivalry between the three tops—the fore, main and mizzen.
in all drills, each tries to defeat the others. in making sail it is the nimble crew that gets all taut first. there are no prizes offered, but a smile or nod of commendation from the executive officer or captain is worth more than medal or money.
in making, or furling, or reefing sail a certain number of men—in this case cadets—are selected as topmen. it is their duty to run aloft and to man the yards. to lay out and reef or furl, or to handle ropes in the top.
at the first warning command they spring upon the nettings and mount the lower part of the shrouds.
they are supposed to wait patiently and in line for the word of command, but do race horses wait patiently at the post!
they slyly creep up several ratlines until the vigilant eye of the first lieutenant catches them, then they reluctantly drop back, only to spring aloft again at the first word from the trumpet.
once given they risk their necks to gain the top. arriving there, they stand ready and wait like champing steeds for the command:
“lay out!”
in the meantime those below stationed at the fife and pin rails are to do all in their power to ease off the different halliards and clew lines and the various running gear.
this latter task, under the careful supervision of several trained first class men, belongs to the plebes.
it is too soon in the cruise for the latter to trust their precious lives above the deck, so they pull and haul and try their inexperienced best to bring their part of the ship in first in this race of knowledge and brawn.
the topsails are reefed and spread again to the breeze. the sea is calm, and the blue sky overhead holds no threatening cloud.
the drill goes on until the captain cries “enough.” then the ship is made trim once more, and the cadets listen longingly for the sound of the boatswain’s whistle piping “mess gear,” for that means dinner, and if there is anything a naval cadet likes to do at sea, after the salty breeze and active work has toned his stomach, it is to eat.
and eat he does, rest assured of that.
