It was a pretty cottage with a broad veranda running around three sides of it and built far out over the water on the front; an ideal spot for a month's outing.
Launches were darting to and from the ships with liberty parties, often with two or three cutters in tow filled with laughing, skylarking midshipmen. On the opposite shore where the old Pequoit House had once stood, was another landing at which many of the ships' boats, or shore boats, were also making landings with parties which had been out to visit the ships. The ships wore a festive air with awnings stretched above their quarter-decks and altogether it was an enchanting picture.
Mammy welcomed her family with enthusiasm, and Jerome with the ceremony he never omitted, and in less time than seemed possible all were settled in their spacious, airy rooms. Mr. and Mrs. Harold had a room looking out over the river, with the two girls next them, while Mrs. Howland, Mr. Stewart, Snap and Constance had rooms just beyond, the three boys being quartered on the floor above.
"Oh, Peggy, isn't it the dearest place you ever saw?" cried Polly, running out on the balcony upon which their room gave. "And there's the dear old flat-iron," the "flat-iron" being the name bestowed by the boys upon the monitor Tonopah because she set so low in the water and was shaped not unlike one, her turrets sticking up like bumpy handles.
"Look, Polly! Look! Some one is wigwagging on the bridge of the Olympia. Oh, Daddy Neil, Daddy Neil, come quickly and tell us what they are saying," she called into the next room.
Neil Stewart hurried out to the balcony, slightly lowering his eyelids as he would have done at sea, a little trick acquired by most men who look across the water.
"Why they are signalling US," he exclaimed. "That's Boynton on the bridge," mentioning an officer whom he knew, "and the chap signalling is—YOU—no, no I don't mean that, I mean it's the chap who ought to be you, that Devon, Deroux, no—Leroux—isn't that his name? The fellow who rigged up in girl's clothes and fooled me to a frazzle. He's saying— what's that? Hold on—Yes! 'Welcome to New London' and—'Coming on board.' THAT means that a whole bunch will descend upon us tonight I'll bet all I'm worth. Well, let 'em come! Let 'em come! The more the merrier for there's nothing amiss with the commissary department. Here, Happy, Happy, come and answer that signal out yonder. I'm rusty, but you ought to have it down pat."
"Aye, aye, sir," answered Happy, appearing at the window overhead and by some miraculous means scrambling through it and letting himself drop to the balcony where Mr. Stewart and the girls were standing.
"Give me a towel, quick, Peggy."
Peggy rushed for a towel and a moment later the funny wigwag was answering: