Rollo at first felt quite disappointed that the officer seemed so little disposed to give him information; but immediately after the officer had gone another man came by, one of the passengers, as Rollo supposed, who proved to be more communicative.  He wore a glazed cap and a very shaggy greatcoat.  He sat down by the side of Jennie, Rollo being on the other side, and said, ­

“He does not seem inclined to tell you much about the bells, does he, Rollo?”

“No, sir,” replied Rollo; “but how did you know that my name was Rollo?”

“O, I heard about you down in the cabin,” replied the stranger; “and about you too, Jennie, and your beautiful little kitten.  But I will explain the meaning of the bells to you.  I know all about them.  I belong on board this ship.  I am the surgeon.”

“Are you?” said Rollo.  “I did not know that there was any surgeon in the ship.”

“Yes,” replied the gentleman.  “It is quite necessary to have a surgeon.  Sometimes the seamen get hurt, and require attendance; and then sometimes there are cases of sickness among the passengers.  I have got quite a little apothecary’s shop in my state room.  I will show it to you by and by.  But now about the bells.

“You must know,” continued the surgeon, “that people strike the time at sea in a very different manner from that which is customary on land.  In the first place, they have a man to strike it; they cannot have a clock.”

“I do not see why not,” said Rollo.

“Because at sea,” rejoined the surgeon, “the time changes every day, and no clock going regularly can keep it.  Time depends upon the sun, and when the ship is going east she goes to meet the sun; and it becomes noon, that is, midday, earlier.  When the ship is going west, she goes away from the sun, and then it becomes noon later.  Thus noon has to be fixed every day anew, and a clock going regularly all the time would be continually getting wrong.  Then, besides the rolling and pitching of the ship would derange the motion of the weights and pendulum of the clock.  In fact, I don’t believe that a clock could be made to go at all ­unless, indeed, it were hung on gimbals.”

“What are gimbals?” asked Rollo.

“They are a pair of rings,” replied the surgeon, “one within the other, and each mounted on pivots in such a manner that any thing hung within the inner ring will swing any way freely.  The lamps down in the cabin are hung on gimbals.”

“Yes,” said Rollo, “I saw them.”

“Then, besides,” continued the surgeon, “if the men strike the bells themselves, the sound, coming regularly every half hour, proves that they are at their posts and attending to their duties.  So that, even if a machine could be invented to strike the time on board ship ever so truly, I do not think they would like to adopt it.

“Another difference in striking the time on board ship,” continued the surgeon, “is, that they strike it by half hours instead of by hours.  Scarcely any of the ship’s company have watches.  In fact, watches are of very little use at sea, the time is so continually changing from day to day.  The sailors, therefore, and nearly all on board, depend wholly on the bells; and it is necessary, accordingly, that they should be struck often.  Every two bells, therefore, means an hour; and a single bell at the end means half an hour.  Now, I will strike the bells for you, and you may tell me what o’clock it is.  We begin after twelve o’clock.

“Ding!”

“Half past twelve,” said Rollo.

“Ding ­ding!” said the surgeon again, imitating the sound of the bell with his voice.

“One o’clock,” said Rollo.

“Ding ­ding!  Ding!” said the surgeon.

“Half past one o’clock.”

“Ding ­ding!  Ding ­ding!”

“Two o’clock!”

“Ding ­ding!  Ding ­ding!  Ding!”

“Half past two.”

“Ding ­ding!  Ding ­ding!  Ding ­ding!”

“Three!”

“Ding ­ding!  Ding ­ding!  Ding-ding!  Ding!”

“Half past three.”

“Ding ­ding!  Ding ­ding!  Ding ­ding!  Ding ­ding!”

“Four o’clock.”

“Yes,” said the surgeon, “that is eight bells, and that is the end.  Now they stop and begin again with one bell, which means half past four; and so they go on to eight bells again, which makes it eight o’clock.  The next eight bells is twelve o’clock at night, and the next is at four o’clock in the morning, and the next at eight o’clock.  So that eight bells means four o’clock, and eight o’clock, and twelve o’clock, by day; and four o’clock, and eight o’clock, and twelve o’clock, by night.”

“Yes,” said Rollo, “now I understand it.”

“Eight bells is a very important striking,” continued the surgeon.  “It is a curious fact, that almost every thing important that is done at sea is done at some eight bells or other.”

“How is that?” asked Rollo.

“Why, in the first place,” replied the surgeon, “at eight bells in the morning, the gong sounds to wake the passengers up.  Then the watch changes, too; that is, the set of men that have been on deck and had care of the ship and the sails since midnight go below, and a new watch, that is, a new set of men that have been asleep since midnight, take their places.  Then the next eight bells, which is twelve, is luncheon time.  At this time, too, the captain finds out from the sun whereabouts we are on the ocean, and also determines the ship’s time for the next twenty-four hours.  The next eight bells is at four o’clock, and that is dinner time.  The next eight bells is at eight o’clock, and that is tea time.  At all these times the watches change too; and so they do at the eight bells, which sound at midnight.”

“Yes,” said Rollo, “now I understand it.  I wished to know very much what it meant, and I had a great mind to go and ask the helmsman.”

“It was well that you did not go and ask him,” said the surgeon.

“Why?” asked Rollo.

“Because the officers and seamen on board ships,” replied the surgeon, “don’t like to be troubled with questions from landsmen while they are engaged in their duties.  Even the sensible questions of landsmen appear very foolish to seamen; and then, besides, they commonly ask a great many that are absolutely very foolish.  They ask the captain when he thinks they will get to the end of the voyage; or, if the wind is ahead, they ask him when he thinks it will change, and all such foolish questions; as if the captain or any body else could tell when the wind would change.  Sailors have all sorts of queer answers to give to these questions, to quiz the passengers who ask them, and amuse themselves.  For instance, if the passengers ask when any thing is going to happen, the sailors say, ‘The first of the month.’  That is a sort of proverb among them, and is meant only in fun.  But if it happens to be near the end of the month, the passenger, supposing the answer is in earnest, goes away quite satisfied, while the sailors wink at each other and laugh.”

“Yes,” said Rollo.  “I heard a lady ask the captain, a short time since, when he thought we should get to Liverpool.”

“And what did the captain say?” asked the surgeon.

“He said,” replied Rollo, “that she must go and ask Boreas and Neptune, and some of those fellows, for they could tell a great deal better than he could.”

“The captain does not like to be asked any such questions,” continued the surgeon.  “He cannot possibly know how the wind and sea are going to be during the voyage, and he does not like to be teased with foolish inquiries on the subject.  There is no end to the foolishness of the questions which landsmen ask when they are at sea.  Once I heard a man stop a sailor, as he was going up the shrouds, to inquire of him whether he thought they would see any whales on that voyage.”

“And what did the sailor tell him?” asked Rollo.

“He told him,” replied the surgeon, “that he thought there would be some in sight the next morning about sunrise.  So the passenger got up early the next morning and took his seat on the deck, watching every where for whales, while the sailors on the forecastle, who had told the story to one another, were all laughing at him.”

Rollo himself laughed at this story.

“These questions, after all, are not really so foolish as they seem,” said the surgeon.  “For instance, if a passenger asks about seeing whales, he means merely to inquire whether there are whales in that part of the ocean, and whether they are usually seen from the ships that pass along; and if so, how frequently, in ordinary cases, the sight of them may be expected.  All this, rightly understood, is sensible and proper enough; but sailors are not great philosophers, and they generally see nothing in such inquiries but proofs of ridiculous simplicity and chances for them to make fun.

“You can tell just how it seems to them yourself, Rollo,” continued the surgeon, “by imagining that some farmer’s boys lived on a farm where sailors, who had never been in the country before, came by every day, and asked an endless series of ridiculous questions.  For instance, on seeing a sheep, the sailor would ask what that was.  The farmer’s boys would tell him it was a sheep.  The sailor would ask what it was for.  The boys would say they kept sheep to shear them and get the wool.  Then presently the sailor would see a cow, and would ask if that was a kind of sheep.  The farmer’s boys would say no; it was a cow.  Then the sailor would ask if they sheared cows to get the wool.  No, the boys would say; we milk cows.  Then presently he would see a horse, and he would ask whether that was a cow or a sheep.  They would say it was neither; it was a horse.  Then the sailor would ask whether they kept horses to milk them or to shear them and so on forever.”

Rollo laughed loud and long at these imaginary questionings.  At last he said, ­

“But I don’t think we ask quite such foolish questions as these.”

“They do not seem so foolish to you,” replied the surgeon, “but they do to the sailors.  The sailors, you see, know all the ropes and rigging of the ship, and every thing seen at sea, just as familiarly as boys who live in the country do sheep, and cows, and wagons, and other such objects seen about the farm; and the total ignorance in regard to them which landsmen betray, whenever they begin to ask questions on board, seems to the sailors extremely ridiculous and absurd.  So they often make fun of the passengers who ask them, and put all sorts of jokes upon them.  For instance, a passenger on board a packet ship once asked a sailor what time they would heave the log.  ‘The log,’ said the sailor, ’they always heave the log at nine bells.  When you hear nine bells strike, go aft, and you’ll see them.’  So the passenger watched and counted the bells every time they struck, all the morning, in the hopes to hear nine bells; whereas they never strike more than eight bells.  It was as if a man had said, on land, that such or such a thing would happen at thirteen o’clock.”

Rollo and Jennie laughed.

“So you must be careful,” continued the surgeon, “what questions you ask of the officers and seamen about the ship; and you must be careful, too, what you believe in respect to the things they tell you.  Perhaps it will be the truth they will tell you, and perhaps they will be only making fun of you.  You may ask me, however, any thing you like.  I will answer you honestly.  I am at leisure, and can tell you as well as not.  Besides, I like to talk with young persons like you.  I have a boy at home myself of just about your rating.”

“Where is your home?” asked Rollo.

“It is up on the North River,” said the surgeon, “about one hundred miles from New York.  And now I must go away, for it is almost eight bells, and that is dinner time.  I shall see you again by and by.  There’s one thing more, though, that I must tell you before I go; and that is, that you had better not go to any strange places about the ship where you do not see the other passengers go.  For instance, you must not go up upon the paddle boxes.”

“No,” said Rollo.  “I saw a sign painted, saying that passengers were not allowed to go up on the paddle boxes.”

“And you must not go forward among the sailors, or climb up upon the rigging,” continued the surgeon.

“Why not?” asked Rollo.

“Because those parts of the ship are for the seamen alone, and for others like them, who have duties to perform on shipboard.  What should you think,” continued the surgeon, “if some one who had come to make a visit at your house were to go up stairs, looking about in all the chambers, or down into the kitchen, examining every thing there to see what he could find?”

“I should think it was very strange,” said Jennie.

“Certainly,” said the surgeon, “and it is the same on board ship.  There are certain parts of the ship, such as the cabins, the state rooms, and the quarter decks, which are appropriated to the passengers; and there are certain other parts, such as the forecastle, the bows, and the rigging, which are the domains of the seamen.  It is true, that sometimes a passenger may go into these places without impropriety, as, for example, when he has some business there, or when he is specially invited; just as there may be circumstances which would render it proper for a gentleman to go into the kitchen, or into the garret, at a house where he is visiting.  But those are exceptions to the general rules, and boys especially, both when visiting in houses and when they are passengers on board ships, should be very careful to keep in proper places.”

“I am glad I did not go climbing up the rigging,” said Rollo.

“Yes,” replied the surgeon.  “Once I knew a passenger go climbing up the shrouds on board an East Indiaman, and when he had got half way up to the main top, and began to be afraid to proceed, the sailors ran up after him, and, under pretence of helping him, they tied him there, hand and foot, with spun yarn.”

“Ha!” said Rollo.  “And what did he do?

“He begged them to let him down, but they would not.  They said it was customary, whenever a landsman came up into the rigging, for him to pay for his footing by a treat to the sailors; and that they would let him down if he would give them a dollar for a treat.”

“And did he give it to them,” asked Rollo.

“Yes, he said he would,” replied the surgeon “if they would untie one of his hands, so that he could get the dollar out of his pocket.  So they untied one of his hands, and he gave them the dollar.  Then they untied his other hand and his feet, and so let him go down.”

“Why did not he call the captain?” asked Rollo.

“O, the captain would not have paid any attention to such a case,” replied the surgeon.  “If he had been on deck at the time he would have looked the other way, and would have pretended not to see what was going on; but he would really have been pleased.  He would have considered the passenger as justly punished for climbing about where he had no business to go.”

Rollo was greatly interested in this narrative.  He thought what a narrow escape he had had in deciding that he would not attempt to climb up the shrouds, and he secretly determined that he would be very careful, not only while he was on board the steamer, but also on all other occasions, not to violate the proprieties of life by obtruding himself into places where he ought not to go.

The surgeon now went away, leaving Rollo and Jane on the settee together.

“I wish,” said Rollo, “that I had asked him what he meant by heaving the log.”

“No,” said Jane, “you must not ask any questions.”

“Yes,” replied Rollo, “I may ask him questions.  He said that I might ask any questions that I pleased of him.”

“Well,” said Jane, “then you must ask him the nest time you see him.”

“I will,” said Rollo.  “And now let us go down into our state room and find Maria, and get ready to go to dinner.”

“Well,” said Jane, “only let me go first alone.  I want to see if I cannot find my way to the state room alone.”

Rollo acceded to this proposal, and he accordingly remained on the settee himself while Jane went down.  Jane looked up toward him when she turned to go down the steep flight of stairs which led from the promenade deck, with a smile upon her countenance, which seemed to say, “You see I am right so far,” and then, descending the steps, ­holding on carefully all the time by the green rope, ­she soon disappeared from view.  Rollo waited a proper time, and then followed Jane.  He found her safe upon the couch in her state room, with Maria seated by her side.

In a very few minutes after Rollo came into the state room eight bells struck, and so they all went out to dinner.  At first, Jennie said that she did not wish to go.  She did not wish for any dinner.  In fact, Rollo perceived, in looking at her, that she was beginning to be a little pale.  Maria told her, however, that she had better go and take some dinner.

“The rule at sea,” said Maria, “always is, to go to the table if you possibly can.”

So they all went out into the dining saloon through the long and narrow passages that have been already described.  They were obliged to put their hands up to the sides of the passage ways, first to one side and then to the other, to support themselves, on account of the rolling of the ship, for there now began to be considerable motion.  When they reached the saloon they staggered into their places, and there sat rocking gently to and fro on the long swell of the sea, and prepared to eat their dinner.

The dinner was very much like a dinner in a fine hotel on land, except that, as every thing was in motion, it required some care to prevent the glasses and plates from sliding about and spilling what they contained.  Besides the ledges along the sides of the tables, there were also two running up and down in the middle of it, partitioning off the space where the various dishes were placed, in the centre, from the space along the sides where the plates, and knives, and forks, and tumblers of the several guests were laid.  This arrangement served, in some measure, to keep every thing in its place; but notwithstanding this, there was a good deal of sliding and jingling among the glasses whenever an unusual sea came rolling along.  In one case, a tumbler, which the person whom it belonged to had not properly secured, came sliding down toward him, while his hands were busy taking care of his soup plate; and when it came to the ledge which formed the edge of the table, the bottom of it was stopped, but the top went over, and poured all the water into the gentleman’s lap.  Upon this all the passengers around the place laughed very heartily.

“There, Rollo,” said Jane, “you had better be careful, and not let your tumbler get upset.”

“Why, it is nothing but water,” replied Rollo.  “It won’t do any harm.  I would as lief have a little water spilled on me as not.”

“I should not care about the water so much,” replied Jennie; “but I would not as lief have every body laughing at me as not.”

This was a very important distinction, and Rollo concluded that it was, after all, better to be careful.  He watched the movements of the other passengers when the seas came, and observed the precautions which they took to guard against such accidents, and by imitating these he soon became quite adroit.  The dinner took a good deal of time, as there were many courses, all served with great regularity.  First, there was soup; then fish of various kinds; then all sorts of roasted meats, such as beef, mutton, chickens, and ducks, with a great variety of vegetables.  Then came puddings, pies, jellies, ice creams, and preserves; and, finally, a dessert of nuts, raisins, apples, almonds, and oranges.  In fact, it was a very sumptuous dinner, and what was very remarkable, when at last it was ended, and the party rose from the table to go back to the cabin, Jennie said that she had a better appetite at the end of the dinner than she had had at the beginning.