"Pipe to dinner"
These words, followed by a glorious burst of shrill sounds, "long drawn out," are hailed with a murmur of delight by many a hungry tar and jolly marine. The merry notes are nearly drowned next instant in the rattle of tubs and kettles, the voice of the ship's cook and his mates calling out the numbers of the messes, the sound of feet trampling along the decks and down the ladders, with the ample store of steaming provisions; such a set up and braces seaman's frame and give it vigour for any amount of physical action.
Then comes the joyous grog! That nautical nectar, so dear to the lips of every blue-jacket, with which he washes down his Majesty's junk, as he roughly, but good humouredly styles the government allowance of beef; and while he quaffs off his portion, or his whack, as he calls it, he envies no man alive, and laughs to scorn those party philanthropists who describe his life as one of unhappy servitude.