I had to go as a stowaway. There was a good chance to work my passage, however, for the chief steward and the cook were in the city jail, and they needed an extra man. They had just taken on a big negro the day before as messboy and I was offered a similar job. I signed the articles before he could think twice, put my luggage on board with the ship's crane, and had it down in the poop that night, before they could fire me. He told me the captain would be back from Paris the next day and hinted that I exchange my cane and good looking uniform for a somewhat tougher costume, one more becoming to a messboy's position. So when I appeared for work that evening in the pantry, I had on a rough khaki shirt and the old breeches I'd worn all the months at the front. The two other messboys gave me a hearty welcome; their work would be lighter now. They didn't let me do much because it was my first meal and they thought I had better get used to it slowly. I washed something like two hundred dishes, in a thick, pasty lot of water which they only change once a day, cleaned up the two mess rooms, and scrubbed the floor of the pantry afterwards. It is delightfully interesting work. I imagine two weeks of it will lead me to decide upon it as my life's occupation.
While I was working I learned a little about the boat and the men on it. It seems the most of them
