Morning dawned gloomily and reluctantly, and its first grey light, struggling through the film of water on the small rectangular deck lights, revealed a comical scene of confusion and disorder.  The ship was rolling and labouring heavily, and Mahood’s trunk, having in some way broken from its moorings, was sliding back and forth across the cabin floor.  Bush’s big meerschaum, in company with a corpulent sponge, had taken up temporary quarters in the crown of my best hat, and the Major’s box of cigars revolved periodically from corner to corner in the close embrace of a dirty shirt.  Sliding and rolling over the carpet in every direction were books, papers, cigars, brushes, dirty collars, stockings, empty wine-bottles, slippers, coats, and old boots; and a large box of telegraph material threatened momentarily to break from its fastenings and demolish everything.  The Major, who was the first to show any signs of animation, rose on one elbow in bed, gazed fixedly at the sliding and revolving articles, and shaking his head reflectively, said:  “It is a c-u-r-ious thing!  It is a c-u-r-ious thing!” as if the migratory boots and cigar-boxes exhibited some new and perplexing phenomena not to be accounted for by any of the known laws of physics.  A sudden roll in which the vessel indulged at that particular moment gave additional force to the sentiment of the soliloquy; and with renewed convictions, I have no doubt, of the original and innate depravity of matter generally, and of the Pacific Ocean especially, he laid his head back upon the pillow.

It required no inconsiderable degree of resolution to “turn out” under such unpromising circumstances; but Bush, after two or three groans and a yawn, made the attempt to get up and dress.  Climbing hurriedly down when the ship rolled to windward, he caught his boots in one hand and trousers in the other, and began hopping about the cabin with surprising agility, dodging or jumping over the sliding trunk and rolling bottles, and making frantic efforts, apparently, to put both legs simultaneously into one boot.  Surprised in the midst of this arduous task by an unexpected lurch, he made an impetuous charge upon an inoffensive washstand, stepped on an erratic bottle, fell on his head, and finally brought up a total wreck in the corner of the room.  Convulsed with laughter, the Major could only ejaculate disconnectedly, “I tell you—­it is a—­curious thing how she—­rolls!” “Yes,” rejoined Bush savagely, as he rubbed one knee, “I should think it was!  Just get up and try it!” But the Major was entirely satisfied to see Bush try it, and did nothing but laugh at his misfortunes.  The latter finally succeeded in getting dressed, and after some hesitation I concluded to follow his example.  By dint of falling twice over the trunk, kneeling upon my heels, sitting on my elbows, and executing several other equally impracticable feats, I got my vest on inside out, both feet in the wrong boots respectively, and