A thousand young fellows turned loose on shipboard were sure to make themselves merry.  Let the reader imagine that!  We were like any other excursionists, except that the stacks of bright guns were always present to remind us of our errand, and regular guard-mounting and drill went on all the time.  The young citizens growled or laughed at the minor hardships of the hasty outfit, and toughened rapidly to business.

Sunday, the 21st, was a long and somewhat anxious day.  While we were bowling along in the sweet sunshine and sweeter moonlight of the halcyon time, Uncle Sam might be dethroned by somebody in buckram, or Baltimore burnt by the boys from Lynn and Marblehead, revenging the massacre of their fellows.  Every one begins to comprehend the fiery eagerness of men who live in historic times.  “I wish I had control of chain-lightning for a few minutes,” says O., the droll fellow of our company.  “I’d make it come thick and heavy and knock spots out of Secession.”

At early dawn of Monday the 22d, after feeling along slowly all night, we see the harbor of Annapolis.  A frigate with sails unbent lies at anchor.  She flies the stars and stripes.  Hurrah!

A large steamboat is aground farther in.  As soon as we can see anything, we catch the glitter of bayonets on board.

By-and-by boats come off, and we get news that the steamer is the “Maryland,” a ferry-boat of the Philadelphia and Baltimore Railroad.  The Massachusetts Eighth Regiment had been just in time to seize her on the north side of the Chesapeake.  They learned that she was to be carried off by the crew and leave them blockaded.  So they shot their Zouaves ahead as skirmishers.  The fine fellows rattled on board, and before the steamboat had time to take a turn or open a valve, she was held by Massachusetts in trust for Uncle Sam.  Hurrah for the most important prize thus far in the war!  It probably saved the “Constitution,” “Old Ironsides,” from capture by the traitors.  It probably saved Annapolis, and kept Maryland open without bloodshed.

As soon as the Massachusetts Regiment had made prize of the ferry-boat, a call was made for engineers to run her.  Some twenty men at once stepped to the front.  We of the New York Seventh afterwards concluded that whatever was needed in the way of skill or handicraft could be found among those brother Yankees.  They were the men to make armies of.  They could tailor for themselves, shoe themselves, do their own blacksmithing, gunsmithing, and all other work that calls for sturdy arms and nimble fingers.  In fact, I have such profound confidence in the universal accomplishment of the Massachusetts Eighth, that I have no doubt, if the order were, “Poets to the front!” “Painters present arms!” “Sculptors charge bagonets!” a baker’s dozen out of every company would respond.