Outward Bound | Page 8

high, and was lighted in part by a large skylight midway between the fore and main mast, and partly by bull's eyes in the side of the ship. There were seventy-two berths, placed in twelve rooms, opening from passage-ways, which extended athwartships from the main steerage, and were lighted by the bull's eyes. There were no doors to these dormitories, each of which contained six berths, in two tiers of three each. It was intended that the six boys occupying one of these rooms should form a mess. Between the gangways, or passages, were mess tables, which could be swung up against the partition when not in use.
The steerage was neatly and tastefully fitted up, and furnished, though not so elegantly as the cabins. It was to be the school room, as well as the parlor and dining room of the boys, and it would compare favorably with such apartments in well-ordered academies on shore. There was plenty of shelves, pouches, and lockers, under the lower berths, and beneath the bull's eyes at the head of the main gangways, for clothing and books, and each boy had a place for every article which regulations allowed him to possess.
Forward of the foremast there were two large state rooms; that on the starboard side having four berths, for the boatswain, carpenter, sailmaker, and head steward; and the one on the port side with six, for the two cooks and the four under stewards, all of whom were men skilful and experienced in their several departments. Forward of these was the kitchen, from which opened the lamp room, a triangular closet in the bow of the ship. Mr. Lowington had taken the idea of locating the cooking apartment in the extreme forward part of the vessel from the Victoria and Albert, the steam yacht of the Queen of England.
The hold beneath the berth deck contained the water tanks, bread room, chain lockers, and a multitude of store rooms for provisions, clothing, and supplies of every description needed on board during a long voyage.
The Young America was to be officered and manned by the students. They were to work the ship, to make and take in sail, to reef, steer, and wash down decks, as well as study and recite their lessons. They were to go aloft, stand watch, man the capstan, pull the boats; in short, to do everything required of seamen on board a ship. Mr. Lowington was to lure them into the belief, while they were hauling tacks and sheets, halyards and braces, that they were not at work, but at play. The labor required of them was an essential element in the plan, by which the boys were to obtain, the necessary physical exercise, and the discipline they so much needed.
By the first of April the last of the students had reported to the principal on board, and the professors, as the boys insisted upon calling them, had taken possession of their state rooms. Though some of the pupils had been on board nearly a month, the organization of the ship had not been commenced; but classes had been formed in some of the studies, by the teachers, and the pupils recited every day. The boatswain had instructed the boys in rowing, and some temporary regulations had been adopted for the eating and sleeping departments. But not a boy had been allowed to go aloft, and nothing more than ordinary school discipline had been attempted.
The boys, as boys always are, were impatient at this delay. They wanted to be bounding over the ocean--to be on their way to some foreign port. They were anxious to work, to climb the rigging, and stand at the wheel. As yet they knew very little of the purposes of the principal, and had but a faint perception of the life they were to lead in the Academy Ship. It was understood that the officers were to be selected for their merit, and that the ship, some time or other, was to cross the ocean; but beyond this, all was darkness and uncertainty.
"To-morrow will be the first day of April," said George Wilton, as he walked the deck of the Young America with Richard Carnes, a dignified young gentleman of seventeen. "Mr. Lowington said we should go to work on that day."
"If he said so, then of course we shall go to work," replied Carnes.
"I'm tired of waiting," added Wilton. "I think this is a stupid kind of life. We are not even tied to a bell rope here."
"You will get discipline enough as soon as the crew are organized."
"I suppose we shall. Do you think we shall go to sea to-morrow?"
"Go to sea to-morrow!" exclaimed Carnes.
"Shuffles said so."
"How can we go to sea to-morrow? The crew don't know the mainmast from a handspike. They