The routine work, including morning "quarters," was finished by half-past ten every morning, and the balance of the day was spent as pleased us best, within certain well-defined limits.
Much time and thought were spent in chasing down rumors, and watching signals from the flagship.
Troopships from Santiago, laden with homeward-bound troops, sailed by the mouth of the harbor, but we, the first volunteers to reach the seat of war and to see active service, still lingered.

The "Resolute" and "Badger" left at last, and it was rumored that we would follow next day.
But still we lingered.
Occasionally we got mail that told of home doings, and almost every letter finished with, "I suppose that you will soon be home, now that peace is declared." But still we lingered.
We knew that we could hardly expect to be relieved at once; that there were many arrangements to be made in the Navy Department; many orders to be signed, and new plans to be formulated.

But the thought carried little comfort with it.

The pangs of homesickness were getting a strong hold on us.
Dr."Gangway" McGowan had the ship's carpenter nail a nice, smooth piece of board over a hole in the wire netting of his cabin door; some wag took advantage of the opportunity, and lettered plainly the following, on its white surface: [Illustration] He would have done a rushing business if he could have found a sure cure for homesick "heroes." On Tuesday, August 23d, our depression reached its culminating point, for the word had been passed unofficially that we might lay here indefinitely--two weeks, a month, three months--there was no telling when we would get away from what had become a hateful spot to us.

The men went about with a dejected air, and while all were good-natured enough, there was little inclination to talk.
As night drew near, we saw several troopships pass the harbor homeward bound, and the sight did not lighten our gloom.
When the sun finally sank, we were as melancholy a crowd as ever trod a deck.
The men gathered in little groups, bewailing in monosyllables the decidedly gloomy future, when some one glanced up and saw that Commodore Watson's flagship, the "Newark," was showing the general signal lights.
Then, as the answering lights blazed on the other ships, the red and white lanterns began to spell out a message.
The news spread at once that the flagship was signalling a general message or one of interest to the whole fleet.
Soon the rail was lined with signal boys, and signal boys, _pro tem_.
Those who could read them, spelled the messages aloud, letter by letter.
"'Y-A-N-K-E-E' A-N-D 'N-I-A-G-A-R-A' W-I-L-L S-A-I-L F-O-R T-O-M-P-K-I-N-S-V-I-L-L-E T-O-M-O-R-R-O-W.
'D-I-X-I-E' A-N-D 'F-E-R-N' W-I-L-L G-O T-O H-A-M-P-T-O-N R-O-A-D-S." With a single bound all was changed from gloom to gladness.
No man could say how glad he was, but every man felt his heart grow warm within him.