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.