The party were all on deck, and as soon as they dared do so they broke into song. First they sang “Hail Columbia,” because the band was playing that tune. Then in turn followed “Yankee Doodle,” “The Star Spangled Banner,” “Rally Round the Flag, Boys,” “John Brown,” “We are Coming, Father Abraham,” “The Year of Jubilo,” “Just Before the Battle,” and, in fact, one after another, every popular song of the day. If music had been their profession, and if they had been well paid for singing so many songs at one time, they would have thought that they had been working too hard, and they would have felt very tired; but as they were singing only for their own amusement, they were insensible to fatigue. But then you see it makes all the difference whether our violent exertions are called work or play. There are those who fretfully play at work, and those who cheerfully work at play, and those who invariably do both. Our picnickers were very perseveringly working at play. They were, indeed, so taken up with their singing, that they found themselves at the picturesque Chain Bridge Military Depot, four miles above Georgetown, before they knew where they were. “How far do you call it from here to the Great Falls?” inquired Ben. Allison of one of the young officers of the post, as the steamer was passing through the lock. “Some call it nine miles only, but _I_ think it nine of the very longest miles _I_ ever travelled,” laughingly answered the young man. The boat passed the lock, steamed on her way, and soon left the Chain Bridge behind. They were now coming into a wild, romantic, and beautiful region of country. On the north side of the canal arose the lofty, dark gray rocks, like pallisades, from every crevice of which grew the hardy evergreen, or sprang the bright mountain rill. Along the foot of this rocky precipice, at equal distances, nestled the picturesque huts of the pickets, each hut built of rough logs, with the bark on, and thatched with evergreen boughs of fir, pine or cedar, and having in front its little camp-fire, and its group of three or four soldiers. As the little steamboat glided past these stations, the picnickers cheered these picket guards, and pelted them well with apples, oranges, cocoa nuts, poundcakes, and packets of newspapers. And the pickets in return cheered them, and threw into their boat hares, quails, and partridges, that they had killed in that country, so abounding in game. All this was on the right hand of the way, and north side of the canal. On the opposite, or south side, and divided from it only by the narrow tow path, rolled the broad river, and beyond that arose the wooded hills of Virginia, now gorgeous in the variegated hues of autumn foliage.