This consoled the people; they assisted to carry over their things to the Quarantine House, and were soon busily engaged studying the thousands of names which former emigrants had written in pencil upon the rough-hewn timbers of which the building was composed. Many a one found there the name of some old acquaintance, and hastened to incorporate his own in the general register. Pencils were in demand. But how many elegant verses, gnawed by the tooth of Time, passed into decay here in retirement! how many effusions of a pure poetical frenzy, seizing on the poor exile torn from his home to this foreign, friendless shore, disappeared, without a trace, among the mass of names! Werner copied some of them into his pocket book-- "Now we'll all sing Hallelujah, For we are in America." Another-- "For all that we've suffered I don't care one button, Now that we've plenty of fresh beef and mutton!" Although the Quarantine House was distant a few hundred yards only from the shore, (it was built like an island in the water,) yet the Emigrants had hitherto in vain asked for permission to go across. At last some boats came over, and the cheerful cry, "Ashore! ashore!" resounded from lip to lip. All, however, did not avail themselves of the permission; some would not leave their things, which stood there unprotected; others considered the fare demanded higher than suited their views; in short, there might be about fifteen, who, jumping joyously into the boat, were rowed ashore to their adopted country, whose soil they were now about to set foot on for the first time. And now, no doubt, they fell down and kissed the longed-for land, hugged the trees, shook the Americans as their new brothers heartily by the hand, embraced them, and in their turn were received by these latter equally cordially and affectionately, and as newly acquired brethren and fellow citizens, who had just been endowed with sacred Liberty! No; they inquired for the nearest tavern, where some fresh bread, cheese, and beer, were to be had, and were laughed at by the Americans on account of their speech and their costume. But they found what they were looking for, and without bestowing a single glance at the town, which they said they should see enough of by and by, they stormed into the public room of the inn with joyful haste, "in order to get the salt taste out of their mouths," as the brewer expressed it. Their entrance was characteristic. The brewer stepped up to the bar, and in a deep, sonorous voice pronounced the single word "Beer," but with such emphasis, with such feeling, with such infinite longing, that one could see at a glance what the man had suffered since he had been deprived of its enjoyment. He knew besides that the same word signified beer in English as in his own language, and, indeed, had already intimated, on board ship, his conviction that in all languages it must be called "Beer," for that it could not be expressed otherwise.