[Illustration:  PLENTY OF TIME.]

The partition separating me from the ward-room was built after the completion of the ship, and had a way of creaking like a thousand or more squeaky boots in simultaneous action.  Every time we rolled, each board rubbed against its neighbor and waked the echoes of the cabin.  The first time I slept in the room the partition seemed talking in Russian, and I distinctly remember that it named a majority of the cities and many noble families throughout the empire.  After the first night it was powerless to disturb me.  I thought it possible that on leaving the ship I might be in the condition of the woman, whose husband, a fearful snorer, was suddenly called from home.  The lady passed several sleepless nights, until she hit upon the expedient of calling a servant with the coffee mill.  The vigorous grinding of that household utensil had the effect of a powerful opiate.

At eight o’clock every morning, Yakuff, (the Russian for Jacob,) brought me a pitcher of water.  When my toilet was over, he appeared with a cup of tea and a few cakes.  We conversed in the beginning with a sign language, until I picked up enough Russian to ask for tea, water, bread, and other necessary things.  At eleven we had breakfast in the captain’s cabin, where we discussed steaks, cutlets, tea, and cigars, until nearly noon.  Dinner at six o’clock was opened with the never failing zakushka, or lunch, the universal preparative of the empire, and closed with tea and cigars.  At eight o’clock tea was served again.  After it, any one who chose could partake of the cup which cheers and inebriates.

[Illustration:  RUSSIAN OFFICERS AT MESS.]

One morning during my voyage a sailor died.  The ocean burial occurred on the following day, and was conducted according to the ceremonial of the Eastern Church.  At the appointed time, I went with Captain Lund to the place of worship, between decks.  The corpse was in a canvas coffin, its head and breast being visible.  The coffin, partially covered with the naval ensign, lay on a wide plank about two feet above the deck.  At its head the priest was reading the burial service, while near him there was a group of sailors forming the choir.  Captain Lund and several officers stood at the foot of the coffin, each holding a burning taper.

The service lasted about twenty minutes, and consisted of reading by the priest and responses by the choir.  The censer was repeatedly swung, as in Catholic ceremonials, the priest bowing at the same time toward the sacred picture.  Simultaneously all the candles were extinguished, and their several men advanced and kissed a small cross lying upon the coffin.  The priest read a few lines from a written paper and placed it with the cross on the breast of the corpse.  The coffin was then closed and carried upon the plank to the stern of the ship.

After a final chant by the choir, one end of the plank was lifted, and a single splash in the water showed where the body went down.  During the service the flag floated at half mast.  It was soon lowered amid appropriate music, which ended the burial at sea.