Feb. 3. The winds have ceased, and the sea is as calm as an honest man’s conscience. Companies are parading the decks of the steamers, a dozen bands are out playing, everybody is feeling good, and altogether, we are having quite an enlivening scene. Business is brisk today; all the boats are in the sound, and schooners are alongside of them, supplying them with coal, water and rations, preparatory to a trip up the sound. Everything now seems to be nearly ready, and I expect that some fine morning we will make a call on our southern friends. No doubt they will be delighted to see us, and as they say, to welcome us with bloody hands to hospitable graves; but perhaps it has never occurred to them that in a reception of that kind, they, perchance, may fill some of the aforesaid graves. I had much rather they would welcome us to a good dinner of fishballs than cannon balls; but I suppose they will have their own choice of reception and we must reciprocate the best we can.
Merchandise brings a right smart price in this market, and a man needs a heavy purse to purchase very extensively. I paid $1 for the same quantity of tobacco I bought at home for forty cents.
