The Japanese party upon deck, who were entertained by a large body of officers from the various ships, became quite uproarious under the influence of overflowing supplies of champagne, Madeira, and punch, which they seemed greatly to relish.  The Japanese took the lead in proposing healths and toasts, and were by no means the most backward in drinking them.  They kept shouting at the top of their voices, and were heard far above the music of the bands that enlivened the entertainment by a succession of brisk and cheerful tunes.  In the eagerness of the Japanese appetite there was but little discrimination in the choice of dishes and in the order of courses, and the most startling heterodoxy was exhibited in the confused commingling of fish, flesh, and fowl, soups and syrups, fruits, fricassees, roast and boiled, pickles and preserves.  As a most generous supply had been provided, there were still some remnants of the feast left after the guests had satisfied their voracity, which most of these Japanese, in accordance with their custom, stowed away about their persons to carry off.  The Japanese always have an abundant supply of paper within the left bosom of their loose robes, in a capacious pocket.  This is used for various purposes; one species, as soft as our cotton cloth, and withal exceedingly tough, is used for a handkerchief; another furnishes the material for taking notes, or for wrapping up what is left after a feast.  On the present occasion, when the dinner was over, all the Japanese guests simultaneously spread out their long folds of paper, and gathering what scraps they could lay their hands on, without regard to the kind of food, made up an envelope of conglomerate eatables in which there was such a confusion of the sour and sweet, the albuminous, oleaginous, and saccharine, that the chemistry of Liebig or the practised taste of the Commodore’s Parisian cook would never have reached a satisfactory analysis.  They not only always followed this practice themselves, but insisted that their American guests, when entertained at a Japanese feast, should adopt it also.

Whenever the Commodore and his officers were feasted on shore, paper parcels of the remnants were thrust into their hands on leaving.  After the banquet the Japanese were entertained by an exhibition of negro minstrelsy, got up by some of the sailors.  The gravity of the saturnine Hayashi was not proof against the grotesque exhibition, and even he joined in the general hilarity.  It was now sunset and the Japanese prepared to depart, with quite as much wine in them as they could well bear.  The jovial Matsusaki threw his arms about the Commodore’s neck, crushing in his tipsy embrace a pair of new epaulettes, and repeating, in Japanese, with maudlin affection, these words, as interpreted into English:  “Nippon and America, all the same heart.”  He then went toddling into his boat, supported by some of his more steady companions, and soon all the happy party had left the ships and were making rapidly for the shore.  The Saratoga fired the salute of seventeen guns as the last boat pulled off from the Powhatan, and the squadron was once more left in the usual quiet of ordinary ship’s duty.