The Queen of Night was looked at through them like a lady of high life.

The Americans acted in regard to her with the freedom of proprietors.

It seemed as if the blonde Phoebe belonged to these enterprising conquerors and already formed part of the Union territory.

And yet the only question was that of sending a projectile--a rather brutal way of entering into communication even with a satellite, but much in vogue amongst civilised nations.
Midnight had just struck, and the enthusiasm did not diminish; it was kept up in equal doses in all classes of the population; magistrates, _savants_, merchants, tradesmen, street-porters, intelligent as well as "green" men were moved even in their most delicate fibres.

It was a national enterprise; the high town, low town, the quays bathed by the waters of the Patapsco, the ships, imprisoned in their docks, overflowed with crowds intoxicated with joy, gin, and whisky; everybody talked, argued, perorated, disputed, approved, and applauded, from the gentleman comfortably stretched on the bar-room couch before his glass of "sherry-cobbler" to the waterman who got drunk upon "knock-me-down" in the dark taverns of Fell's Point.
However, about 2 a.m.the emotion became calmer.