When the scarifying process was finished, I was told to hold up my head, raise my voice to its highest pitch, and say, "Yarns!" I obeyed the mandate, as in duty bound; and to give full and distinct utterance to the word, opened my mouth as if about to swallow a whale, when some remorseless knave, amid shouts of laughter from the surrounding group, popped into my open mouth the huge tar brush, well charged with the unsavory ingredients for shaving.
I now thought my trials were over.

Not so.

I was interrogated through a speaking trumpet on several miscellaneous subjects; but suspecting some trick, my answers were brief and given through closed teeth.

At length, Captain Page exclaimed, "Old Neptune, this will never do.

Give him a speaking trumpet also, and let him answer according to rule, and in shipshape fashion, so that we can all hear and understand him." I put the trumpet to my mouth, and to the next question attempted to reply in stunning tones, "None of your business!" for I was getting impatient, and felt somewhat angry.