And that was now being impressed upon the boys of the "Yankee." While the crews of the "Nahant" and "Yankee" were preparing for the railway trip to New York, arrangements were being made in that city for a rousing welcome to the returning Naval Reserve Battalion.
Shortly after ten the boys were mustered aft to hear Captain Brownson's parting speech.

In his usual brisk manner he said that we were now to go back to our peaceful avocations; to our homes; to join our relatives and friends, and to become again private citizens.

He ended by wishing us the best of luck.
The cheers that followed shook the old ship from keel to topmast, nor were the cheers for Lieutenant Hubbard any the less hearty.
A very few minutes after, we piled into a tug and steamed away.

Little was said, for there was a feeling of real regret: we were fond of the old boat, after all.
"Patt," the gunner's mate; the marines, and the few men of the engineer force who stayed on board, waved good-by.
We boarded a special train with the crew and officers of the "Nahant," and were soon speeding over the level country towards New York.
After a very fast trip we reached Jersey City, where we were fitted out with rifles and belts, and were met by the band that was to lead us through the city.
[Illustration: MARCHING THROUGH CITY HALL PARK, NEW YORK CITY] The people of New York turned out to give us a rousing welcome.
It was a welcome we shall never forget--a welcome that made us forget all hardships, all dangers.

Whatever pride we may have had in our achievements was drowned in that thunderous greeting; we were humbled, for real heroes could hardly have deserved such a reception.
The Mayor stood in front of the City Hall and reviewed us, and later we were reviewed by the President himself, at Madison Square.
As the head of the column turned down Twenty-sixth Street, heading to our old receiving ship the "New Hampshire," the band struck up "Home, Sweet Home." The men still marched with heads erect and eyes to the front, but many of those eyes were dimmed with a moisture that almost prevented their owners from seeing the long, homeward-bound pennant that floated from the masthead of the old frigate.
As for the greeting given by mothers and sisters and relatives of every degree and by friends assembled on the "New Hampshire," that is one experience that cannot be described; it must be felt to be appreciated.
Suffice it that every member of the New York Naval Battalion felt amply repaid for the hardships endured and the sacrifices made in the service of Old Glory.