It was three bells in the dog-watches, when the people on the deck of the Harrisburg discovered a steamer, with the stars and stripes over the stars and bars at her stern, approaching them. The arrival caused some excitement on board; and three stunning cheers welcomed the victors back to the ship. Captain Mainwright took Mr. Granger by the hand, and congratulated him upon the success of the expedition. That night there was such a spinning of yarns on board the Harrisburg as had never been known before. Every man who had been with the expedition was a hero; but Jack Somers was regarded as something better than a hero. He was commended by the officers, and lauded by the crew; and, if he had not been a very sensible young man, his head would have been turned by the lavish praise which was bestowed upon him. Jack had a strong friend in the wardroom,--one who could command the ear of the captain; and, if our hero could have heard what was said about him by these distinguished persons in the cabin, he might well have been dazzled by the prospects in store for him. They were discussing a plan for his future advancement; which, in due time, will be revealed to our readers. Our sailor-boy bore his honors with tolerable self-possession. His fame had extended beyond his own ship, and his position as cockswain of the captain’s gig frequently brought him to the notice of the naval and military officers on the station. His modesty, however, prevented him from making a fool of himself; and, wherever he went, he was a universal favorite. My readers must not suppose that there was no one else at Ship Island but Jack Somers, because he happens to be the central figure of our picture; or that the rest of the people there had nothing to do but to praise him. There was, at this time, a mighty expedition gathering there, which was destined to achieve one of the grandest and most brilliant operations recorded in the annals of war. Jack was only a very humble individual in the vast throng; and we doubt whether General Butler or Flag-officer Farragut ever heard that there was such a person. It was fortunate for Jack that he did not consider himself the greatest man in the fleet; as any self-sufficiency of that kind would have placed him in a very unpleasant position. He was still content to touch his cap to Mr. Midshipman Dickey, and to discharge all his duties on board with promptness and fidelity. In his letters to his mother, he related his adventures with the expedition: but Mr. Bankhead, in writing to his friends, gave a more glowing account of the affair; which, in due time, was conveyed to Pinchbrook. “All hands up anchor, ahoy!” piped the boatswain, one morning, about a week after the boat-expedition.