"Give it to us, will you ?" "Baron" obligingly complied.
The boys lay around in comfortable, though ungraceful, attitudes, a small but appreciative audience.
As the last high note died away the ship's bugler began that lovely call, "tattoo." We listened in silence, for though we had heard it many times, it was always a delight to us.

Then, too, it meant rest (not a drug in the market by any means).

Every ship's crew in the harbor, at the same moment was listening to the call blown by their own bugler.
The men tumbled below and began to prepare for the voyage to dreamland.
Five minutes later, when the sleepy "taps" sounded, the decks were almost deserted save for the hammocks, which looked like huge cocoons swung horizontally.
The following days till Sunday were spent in unloading powder and shell.
The six and eight-inch charges of powder and the shell were lifted by hand and slid down chutes to the barges alongside.

To handle the powder and shell for the thirteen-inch guns, steam was called into service; the thirteen-inch charges being lowered into the waiting boat, by the aid of the cargo boom and steam winch.
This work was hard and the heat trying, but it was accomplished with good grace, for we were glad to get rid of the dangerous stuff.
Sunday, after the usual inspection, several visiting lists were arranged, the most popular being that for the "Oregon." We all wanted to inspect that wonderful ship.

Visiting is generally conducted on Sunday or after dark.