All that afternoon we "lingered in the lap of luxury," as "Bill" put it. At six o'clock our dusky (doubly dusky) coal heavers went ashore, their labor over for the day. Though the workmen had left, the work was still to continue. The crew coaled till twelve o'clock, working in quarter watches. The following day another barge came alongside and part of the crew had to turn to and help the hired shovellers. "So much," said "Stump," snapping his fingers, "for the officers' assurances." Up to this time we did not _know_ where we were going. Of course the "Rumor Committee" were ready with news of destinations galore. We were to return to our patrol duty, to join the Flying Squadron and threaten the coast towns of Spain, to join the blockading squadron off Havana. We were to do a dozen or more things just as probable or just as improbable. A coal barge still lay alongside the starboard side of the ship, when a lighter appeared and made fast to the port side, loaded with express packages, parts of machinery, pipes, and bags of mail for every ship on the Santiago blockade. "Now we will get those eight bags of mail," said a forecastle man, exultantly. And from that moment we knew we were going back to Cuba. But like a good many people who think they know it all--we didn't. Bunkers, holds--almost every available space, in fact, was filled with coal. Then began the much dreaded job of painting. Stages were hung over the side, each manned by two men, and with much reluctance we began to daub the old "Yankee" with gray paint. The men were unaccustomed to such work, though some could handle the brushes sold in "artist's materials" shops well enough, and they spattered gray paint all over themselves. It was thought easier to wash skins than jumpers, so many were decorated in wonderful fashion. "You would make a 'professor of tattooing' wild with envy," said Greene to "Steve," as the latter appeared over the rail. "Well, I don't know," retorted "Steve," "I am thinking of reporting you for misappropriating government property. You've got more paint on yourself than you put on the ship." After a day and a half of dreary work we had the satisfaction of seeing the vessel's sides one uniform color from stem to stern. It was a big job for such a short time and our arms ached at the very thought of it. The sides painted, our attention was given to the decks. They were swabbed thoroughly, first with a damp swab, and after they were entirely dry the spar deck was covered with red shellac, this being applied with a wide varnish brush. The gun deck was then taken in hand and treated in the same way. By Saturday night the ship was as fine as a "brand new jumping-jack before the baby sucked the paint off." Some of the men still suffered from black-and-blue spots, which, however, a little turpentine liniment would have banished.