The “White Stocking Day” was as great an event ashore as the Dead Horse day was at sea.  The sailors’ wives, mothers, or sweethearts always celebrated half-pay day by wearing white stockings and by carrying their skirts discreetly high enough so that it might be observed.  This custom was carried out with rigid regularity, and the participators were the objects of sympathetic attraction.  Poor things, there is no telling what it cost them in anxiety to keep it up.  Their half-pay would not exceed thirty shillings per month, and they had much to do with it, besides providing white stockings and a suitable rig to grace the occasion.

“We’re homeward bound and I hear the sound,” was the favourite song when heaving up the anchor preparatory to pointing homeward.  This chanty has a silken, melancholy, and somewhat soft breeziness about it, and when it was well sung its flow went fluttering over the harbour, which re-echoed the joyous tidings until soloist and choristers alike became entranced by the power of their own performances; and the multitudes who on these occasions came to listen did not escape the rapture of the fleeting throbs of harmony which charged the atmosphere, and made you feel that you would like to live under such sensations for ever!

    HOMEWARD BOUND (HEAVING THE ANCHOR)

    Our anchor’s a-weigh and our sails are well set;—­
      Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
    And the friends we are leaving we leave with
        regret;—­
      Hurrah! my boys, we’re homeward bound!

    We’re homeward bound, and I hear the sound;—­
      Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
    Come, heave on the cable and make it spin round!—­
      Hurrah! my boys, we’re homeward bound!

    Oh let ourselves go, and heave long and strong;—­
      Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
    Sing then the chorus for ’tis a good song;—­
      Hurrah! my boys, we’re homeward bound!

    We’re homeward bound you’ve heard me say;—­
      Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
    Hook on the cat-fall, and then run away! 
      Hurrah! my boys, we’re homeward bound!

After a long, dreary pilgrimage of trackless oceans, the last chant had to be sung as their vessel was being warped through the docks to her discharging berth; and now all their grievances, joys, and sorrows were poured forth in “Leave her, Johnnie, leave her!” It was their last chance of publicly announcing approval or disapproval of their ship, their captain, and their treatment.  Here is a sample of it:—­

    “I thought I heard the skipper say,
      ’Leave her, Johnnie, leave her! 
    To-morrow you will get your pay,
      Leave her, Johnnie, leave her!’

    The work was hard, the voyage was long;—­
      Leave her, Johnnie, leave her! 
    The seas were high, the gales were strong;—­
      It’s time for us to leave her!