Some time had been spent in target practice in the China Sea, both shell and torpedo, and, with the exception of an occasional run to Zamboango or Cebu, isolated ports, the monotony was intensified by the lack of news from the outside world. “Heaving the hook” (as the sailors say) one cloudy morning, as the mist hung o’er the rice fields, the cruiser steamed for an anchorage of a few days in the waters of Manila Bay. Lord, what a relief! We had been coaling ship from colliers, and living on “salt-horse,” hard-tack, and beans for nearly four months; and this was not the worst of all, for we had had no mail from home (anywhere in the good old United States was home), and mail in these foreign ports was mighty precious. Even the poor fellow who seemed homeless and friendless would listen with tears in his eyes, while his shipmate read him passages written by some one in the home land. Arriving in Manila Bay the ship cast anchor off Cavite, innumerable sacks of mail were soon brought aboard, and as the master-at-arms yelled out, “Mail O, mail O, on the starboard side of the gun-deck!” a scrimmage ensued, such as would make the army and navy foot-ball contest look like a game of quoits at a country fair. This day it required two assistants to the master-at-arms in handling the bulk of letters, papers, and periodicals that had accumulated during our absence from civilization, the distribution of which reminded me of the post-office scene from an old sketch at Carncross and Dixey’s Philadelphia “play-house.” Such queries as the following could be heard on the deck: “How many letters did you get, Jack?” “Oh, I haven’t counted them, but here’s a good one: ‘Dear Jack, how is it you never speak of your roommate? Is he tall or short? Where does he come from and what is his name?’ Now, wouldn’t that shatter your shingles?” “Say, fellows, did you hear what ‘Jack o’ the Dust’s’ sweetheart wrote? She wants to know if the Philippines are anywhere near Germany. He is going to write and tell her they are a little south of Germany and China.” “Hello, ‘Sinbad,’ I don’t see you reading any mail,” is jokingly aimed at a husky “tar,” whose derisive reply is, “No, nor you don’t see me answering advertisements either.” For genuine humor, the arrival of mail aboard a “man-of-war” in a foreign port is one droll dramatic comedy. Three weeks later found the flag-ship gracing the bay of Nagasaki, where Baron Kaneko and party of envoys boarded the cruiser, as guests of Admiral Rodgers, for a trip through the Inland Sea.