We have taken in our water and recruits; received on board the oil from the Fortitude and stowed it down; the heavy work is all finished, and not much remains to be done but to paint the ship; and now the "liberty" begins. The word is passed for the watch to get ready to go ashore. Now the "finery" is roused out from the depths of sea-chests, that is, if we have any; and, if we have only one article of "long-shore toggery," it must be worn, though perhaps not strictly in keeping with other parts of our attire, which gives us a slight touch of the amphibious appearance of which I have before spoken at Nantucket. Farrell is with us, having "swapped" into the larboard watch for the occasion, and sports a neat pair of velveteens of the peculiar color and cut that no man who speaks without the brogue, ever did, or by any possibility could wear. Where he got them is a mystery, for no one of his shipmates ever saw them before. The two boys, Kelly and Hoeg, are resplendent in round jackets of green flannel, at that time an indispensable part of the outfit of every "native" below the rank of chief mate; but which have fallen into disuse, and passed away to oblivion with the stiff tarpaulin hat, it is to be hoped never to return. "Come aft, and get your money." The old man has a pile of Spanish dollars on the cabin-table, and serves them out with one hand, while he makes entries in his memorandum-book with the other; the watch pass in and out again, one at a time, like voters at the polls, each getting his two dollars, and a rough word of advice to "behave himself, and not break his liberty, nor bring any money off with him." We take our places in the boat, but not at the oar; for we are but passengers to be ferried ashore by the other watch. Jack's liberty is perfect while it lasts, that is, so far as the ship's duty is concerned. Twenty-four hours is our limit, and the boat will be sent in next morning to bring us off, unless we prefer to hire other conveyance, which we can do if we choose--and have money enough left. Other boats with "liberty men" are to be seen leaving various ships, among the rest the Fortitude's, in which are several of my former comrades in the gallant Lydia Ann. We pull into the rude wharf or mole, and all jump on _terra firma_ with a feeling of outgushing freedom, a Fourth-of-July feeling, uncontrollable, _boiling over_. We invite our unfortunate, shipmates, the ferrymen, to "come up and take a drink," and do so with an air, too. They accept, asking the officer's permission, poor fellows! It matters not that we shall have to do the same thing to-morrow, "sufficient unto the day" is our motto now; and each man carries a Declaration of Independence to his pocket, ay, two of them jingling.