“Come with me and see the men of the Olympia,” said Admiral Dewey, “and see how happy they are, though they have been shut up here four months.” And the men did look jolly and bright, and proud of the Admiral as he of them, and they were pleased when he noticed, kindly, the hostile little monkey, who is the mascot, and the other day bit the Captain.
The health of the boys was preserved at sea by systematic exercise. Not a transport crossed the Pacific that was not converted into a military school, and each floating schoolhouse had about 1,000 pupils. They were put through gymnastics and calisthenics when, as a rule, they were barefooted and wore no clothes but their undershirts and trousers. There was even a scarcity of suspenders. The drill-masters were in dead earnest, and their voices rang out until the manifestation of vocal capacity excited admiration. The boys had to reach suddenly for heaven with both hands and then bring their arms to their sides with swinging energy. Then they had to strike out right and left to the order “Right!” “Left!” until the sergeant was satisfied. Next each foot had to be lifted and put down quickly at the word of command; then it was needful that the legs should he widely separated in a jump and closed up with vigor; then the spinal columns swayed forward and back and all the joints and muscles had something to do. This was no laughing matter to any one, though it was funny enough from the ordinary standpoint of civil life. This medicine was taken day after day, and seemed to vindicate itself.
It was esteemed a good thing for the boys to perspire from exercise. There was no trouble, though, when south and west of Honolulu, in having substantially Turkish baths in the bunks at night, and there were queer scenes on deck—men by hundreds scantily clothed and sleeping in attitudes that artists might have chosen to advantage for life studies. It was necessary for those who walked about, during the hours thus given to repose, where the enlisted men took their rest with their undershirts and drawers around them, to be careful not to tramp on the extended limbs. Once I feared I had hit a soldier’s nose with my heavy foot when stepping over him in a low light, and was gratified that my heel had merely collided with a big boy’s thumb. He had gone to sleep with his head protected by his hand. I paused long enough to note that the sheltering hand if clinched would have been a mighty and smiting fist; and I was doubly pleased that I had not tramped on his big nose.