Admiral Evans signalled back his thanks for the greeting, sent his compliments to Neptune and expressed the hope that Neptune and his party would have a "royal good time on the Louisiana."

The next morning everybody was up bright and early. Word was sent throughout the ship to wear no arms at quarters. Every man put on his cleanest uniform. Quarters was sounded and the men assembled at their usual stations. The officers emerged one by, one from the superstructure and reported to the executive officer that their divisions were all present or accounted for. Then came the bugle for general muster on the quarter deck. All hands were marched aft and the officers took their proper stations with a large space vacant about the captain and a passageway from the superstructure. Miss Sally Ann, the Trinidad monkey, was allowed to come along to see the fun. She perched on one of the 12-inch guns and flirted her tail about like an angry cat. A wait of several minutes followed after Mr. Eberle had gone forward to receive Neptune. This was due, it was reported afterward unofficially, to getting Amphitrite, Neptune's wife, up the gangways with all her toggery in good condition. Not being used to skirts, it was quite a job. At the entrance to the deck eight side boys and the boatswain's mates were stationed.

Suddenly a great blast from the bugles announced the approach. Then the shrill boatswains' whistles smote the ears and Sally Ann set up an awful screeching. The word "Salute!" rang out and every man stood at attention while Neptune and his wife preceded by two pages stepped on the quarter deck. At that moment a monster red flag, eighteen feet by twelve, with a white sea serpent on it that would have made any Chinese dragon run to cover, was raised to the main, the band struck up Neptune's march and his Majesty and consort and their court of fifty-two persons in stately step trod the deck to greet Capt. Wainwright. Neptune swung his trident proudly, and as he came to a full stop he said:

"Sir:—I have come to-day to your ship to exercise the full command that pertains to the rule of my domain. I have come to initiate the landlubbers and pollywogs on this vessel. You will relinquish command to me and I expect that full honors will be paid to my rank. I am honoring this ship of the fleet especially because my distinguished friend and colleague, the President of the country from which you come, once used this ship on a near approach to my dominions. I am informed that he would be here to-day in person if the cares of State did not prevent. I am told he is here in spirit. I shall order, therefore, a special honorary certificate of membership for him. [Aside, "Can't some of you keep that damned monkey from screeching so much?"] I shall now proceed to your cabin, after which the ceremonies of the royal initiations will proceed."

Capt. Wainwright bowed profoundly and the irreverent in the crew set up a howl of laughter as they saw the makeup of Neptune and his party. Neptune and Amphitrite and the two pages went below with the Captain. The others remained on deck. There were the two secretaries that had come aboard the night before and next to them were two royal doctors, in long swallowtails and with tall hats that looked like the headgear of Corean high priests, only there were skulls and crossbones on them for ornament. The doctors carried dress suit cases. One was labelled "Dr. Flip" and the other "Dr. Flap." The cases contained the surgical instruments and medicines. Then came the royal counsellors with enormous law books. The lawyers wore the wigs of English practitioners and long black robes. Two "high cops," in chintz, followed and then there was a large squad of policemen each with a badge numbered 23, with stuffed clubs, followed by the barbers, a dozen black bears and a lot of retainers.

Neptune himself wore a scarlet robe with sea serpents embroidered on it and with a golden hemp fringe all around the edges. His face and legs and arms were stained a beautiful mahogany color. A great beard of yellow rope hung down over his fat belly. Amphitrite was in white. She wore a sea green flat hat and carried a black cat done up in baby's clothes. That cat stayed with her for two hours without moving.

"My!" said one of the ordinary seamen who had cruised many a time along the Bowery, "don't she look just as if she came straight from the Bowery and Hester street? How are ye, Amph?"

A clout on the head by a mate made him "shorten his chin sail."

Before Neptune reappeared Dr. Flip went up to Dr. Wentworth, the ship's surgeon, to pay his professional respects. Dr. Flip said he was of the old school and a graduate of the "Royal College of the Doldrums, class of Umpdy-umpdy-ump-ump." He was strong, he said, on the use of leeches and bleeding. Dr. Wentworth tactfully admitted that the old school had its merits.

Then came Neptune on deck again and the party, followed by 800 officers and men, went to the fo'c'sle deck for the initiation. Neptune mounted his throne on a platform. Two tanks had been erected between that and the forward turret. The bears slipped over the sides as the retainers filled the tanks with water. Drs. Flip and Flap unloaded their saws, knives, teeth extractors and many bottles of vile looking medicine. The lawyers opened their books to certain paragraphs of the "Revised Statutes," chiefly paragraph 4-11-44; the barbers sharpened their enormous razors, "made in Yarmany"; the policemen drew up in line, the orderlies rolled up the barrel of lather, made of oatmeal and water, and another barrel of "tonic," to be used in enormous squirt guns. It was Neptune's "dope" for the unruly. Then Neptune, with a flourish of his trident and settling his gilt crown well back on his head, as Amphitrite nestled to his side, asked if all preparations had been completed.

"Yes, your Majesty," replied Main Top Bowline.

"Then let the initiations proceed. Bring forward as the first victim that newspaper man. He shall have special attention," was the command.

The Sun man mounted the steps to the howls of 800 persons. Dr. Flip sounded his lungs, examined his teeth, felt his arms and legs, made him wiggle his fingers and then said:

"Your Majesty, a very bad case. 'E's got a ingrowin' brain!"

"What do you prescribe?"

"Well, your Majesty, we have here medicines for the cure of spavin, sore throat, consumption, chilblains, diphtheria, eczema, measles, neuralgia, heartburn—"

"Never mind the rest," said the King. "What is the treatment?"

"The same for all, sire," was the response. "A good shave, an injection in the arm of my 'dope' [composed of molasses and water] some powder on his head and a ducking in the briny seas."

"Very good!" replied his Majesty.

Then the trouble began. A pill as big as a horse chestnut and made of bread crusts was forced down the victim's throat. The squirt gun hit him full in the face, a lotion was rubbed in his hair and then he was forced into the chair and shaved. A question was asked of him, and as he opened his mouth to reply a great paint brush of lather was thrust into it. Then came the order to pull out the plug from the chair and drop him over backwards into the tank. Well, that flight and that ducking! Here descriptive powers fail the Sun's correspondent. It can be described best in the words of Herman Melville, in his story of "White Jacket," relating to a cruise he made in 1843 around the horn in the United States frigate, United States, when he went into the water in another way.

"Time seemed to stand still and all the worlds poised on their poles as I fell. I was conscious at length of a swift flinging motion of my limbs. A thunder-boom sounded in my ears. My soul seemed flying from my mouth. Some current seemed hurrying me away. In a trance I yielded and sank down deeper with a glide. Purple and pathless was the deep calm now around me, flecked by summer lightnings in an azure afar.

"Then an agonizing revulsion came over me as I felt myself sinking. Next moment the force of my fall was expended and there I hung vibrating in the deep. What wild sounds then rang in my ear? One was a soft moaning, as of low waves on the beach, the other wild and heartlessly jubilant, as of the sea in the height of a tempest. The life and death poise soon passed, and then I felt myself slowly ascending and caught a dim glimmering of light. Quicker and quicker I mounted, till at last I bounded up like a buoy and my whole head was bathed in the blessed air."

That was just as it was and when the Sun man escaped from the tank he was greeted with more applause and cheering than he had ever received in his life.

The first initiation on the Louisiana was over. Then came a roll call of the officers. They had to produce certificates or pay tribute. The crew was assembled in long lines. One by one they went up the ladders. Drs. Flip and Flap received them. Elaborate examinations were made of their condition.

"My, my, sire!" Dr. Flip would shout. "'E's got valvular contraction of the eyelids!"

"What is the remedy?" Neptune would ask.

"My usual treatment, sire," would be the response.

Then would come a dose of dope, a rub of hair oil, a shave and a toss over into the tank to the hungry bears. Souse, souse, souse again would follow, and when the victim came to the surface each time he would send up a stream of water from his mouth that resembled the spouting of a whale. Those who were waiting for their duckings would shout with the members of Neptune's party. Officers crowded to the front of the bridge and the midshipman who was using the stadimeter to get the proper distance in formation had the hardest day of his life trying to keep his eye on the flagship.

"Pass 'em up quick!" shouted Neptune.

Dr. Flip would diagnose a case as "Fatty degeneration of the shinbone, sire," and the usual remedy would be prescribed. Over the victim went into the tank. Dr. Flip would then announce a case:

"Palpitation of the hair, sire. You can see for yourself how it is shaking."

"Let him have the prescribed treatment," was the order.

Dr. Flip then announced a case of "folderols in the right ear, sire."

"Soak it to him good!" was the command.

Dr. Flip then had a case of "tickdullerous." Similar treatment. All diseases looked alike to Neptune.

"Bunions!" was the next report of Dr. Flip.

"Poultice his hair good. It draws 'em up. Then saw off his leg at the knee," was the remedy prescribed for the bunion ailment. Dr. Flip brought out the saws with vile looking teeth. The two doctors sawed away.

"By cracky! sire, I can't cut it off," reported Dr. Flip.

"Give him an extra dousing!" ordered his Majesty.

Dr. Flip next reported a case of toothache.

"What do the Revised Statutes say?" asked Neptune.

"Beg pardon," said Dr. Flip, "that is in the pharmacopœia."

"Well, what does the farm—whatever it is—say?" roared Neptune.

"Gargle, sire," said Dr. Flip; "the fumes kill the pain." The victim got the gargle treatment.

"Mullygrubs in his back, sire," was the next from Dr. Flip. A lambasting with stuffed clubs was the extra treatment for that, in addition to the ducking.

Then came a strange case, that of a youngster who spends his spare time on board studying mathematics in the hope of getting higher in the service. Dr. Flip went over him with great care. He got out bottles and pills and saws and bandages and plasters. The crowd could see that it was a most serious case.

Dr. Flap was called in consultation. The books were produced and the symptoms were pondered over with many grave shakes of the head. At last Dr. Flip made the right diagnosis.

"'E's got the hypotenuse rampant," he shouted. "My, my! I am astonished that a surgeon of the established reputation of Dr. Wentworth of the United States Navy, sire, should let all these ailments that we have here to-day escape 'im, sire," shouted Dr. Flip.

"Send for Dr. Wentworth!" roared Neptune. Dr. Wentworth came. He told Neptune that he had been a royal subject of his for more than twenty years. Nep softened a bit at that, and then said he was glad to see him again, but how about these strange ailments? Why had he not cured them?

Dr. Wentworth is a man of tact, great tact, and he explained that the ailments occurred nowhere else than in Neptune's domain and, therefore, he thought it was best to have them treated by Neptune's own specialists who were familiar with the newest developments and the best treatment.

While the initiations were going on Neptune ordered this message semaphored to Admiral Evans, the Commander in Chief:

Lieuts. F. T. Evans and H. W. Osterhaus are attached to the Louisiana and occasionally they have to take a good deal of chaffing and no favors when an "unofficial message" from "father" comes over the signals. This was the reply that Neptune received from the flagship:

Young Evans and young Osterhaus were soaked all right.

The initiation ceremonies were kept boiling all the time. Occasionally a sea lawyer, one with an established reputation as such among the crew, would come up. He was asked if he wanted to argue his case. Not one of them did.

"Give it to him good," Neptune would shout. And they did. The rest of the crew understood the significance of the extra ducking and howls of glee resulted. The sea lawyers usually had to be helped out of the tank. Now and then a man would lose his temper when he got into the tank. Small mercy for him! He would drag a bear under the water with him. Forthwith half a dozen bears would go to the rescue of their companion, and in the rescue that man who had dragged the bear under would think he was going to kingdom come before he got a breath of air. Oh, it didn't pay to be fresh in that salt water!

The ceremonies were half over when there came the unforeseen. A victim came up with a peculiar glitter in his eye. Dr. Flip saw it and diagnosed the case as "extremis mortuis of the right optic." The diagnosis was correct, for, catching Dr. Flip in a favorable position, the victim toppled Dr. Flip over into the tank himself.

"Flip is taking a flap!" shouted the crowd. The bears fell on Dr. Flip, thinking he was a new arrival, and he got such a sousing as few who preceded him had received. He lost his glasses, but when he clambered back upon the platform he called out: "Next case!" as if nothing unusual had happened.

Long before the initiation was over the policemen had roused the excitement of Sally Ann, who was perched in the rigging over the bridge, watching the strange performance, as they ran about the ship chasing culprits who tried to escape. Each succeeding arrest stirred her up more and more, and she shrieked out her grief in unearthly yells. One of the bluejackets had to gather her in his arms and stroke her head and talk soothingly to her before she would be comforted.

Another thing that pleased Neptune and the bluejackets was the appearance of an enormous gull, a "goney bird," they called it, that hovered over the initiation ceremonies for more than an hour, turning and twisting its head and giving out strange calls. Where the bird came from no one saw. The ship was 300 miles out to sea. No other bird of the kind was in sight. It was the sailor's omen of good luck. When the bird alighted in the rigging a cheer went up. That sealed the matter of good luck and then the bird flew off to the other ships and watched the ceremonies there.

So hour after hour the initiation went on until the last man had been rounded up and Neptune pronounced the day's work well done. He sent this signal to Admiral Evans:

Neptune then retreated into the fo'c'sle for refreshment and remained there until darkness came. Then a barrel filled with oakum and oil and tar was set on fire and put afloat. It sailed away in the night. It was "Neptune's boat," and he was going back to his royal domains.

After he had gone certificates duly signed and embellished with mermaids and sea urchins and starfish and ropes, with an octopus for a background and a picture of Neptune rising from the sea at the top and with the ship's seal affixed to bits of red, white and blue ribbon, were presented to all hands. Never again will a man who can show one of them have to take a dousing and barbering with suitable medical treatment on crossing the line.

The certificates read:

CHAPTER V
BRAZIL'S ENTHUSIASTIC WELCOME

IN describing the arrival, reception and stay of the American fleet in this port, the impulse is almost irresistible to use superlatives. There can be no error of judgment or of taste in employing the comparative degree, for strict accuracy compels the assertion that never was an American fleet greeted more cordially and never entertained more elaborately in a foreign port than in this port, the "Bay of All Beauties," and in this city, fast becoming the Paris of the Western Hemisphere.

The greetings were unmistakably of the heart. They were far more than official expressions of esteem. It was our old familiar friend of the North, the Vox Populi, that spoke, and no levity is intended when that expression is used. The people acclaimed the fleet and that aspect was so overwhelming, so constant, so omnipresent that it dwarfed everything else. No foreign port and no American port ever saw so many American bluejackets ashore in ten days; no foreign port ever opened its arms more freely to American sailors of high and low degree.

The reception of the fleet was a decided surprise. The officers were confident that the welcome would be cordial, that the expressions of politeness customary on such occasions would ring true, that the entertainments would be in keeping with the situation. No one doubted that Brazil would do the handsome thing. It was expected that the officials would exert themselves to say pleasing things and provide receptions and dinners, and would exchange calls and observe punctiliously all the niceties that international courtesy demands. But no one expected what might be called strictly an uprising of the people, and the bestowal of that fiction of official receptions in a foreign port, known as the freedom of the city, in such a manner as to turn fiction into fact.

It seemed to be true and undoubtedly was true that the Americans captured Rio, took it by storm, if you please; it did not seem to be true but was true that Rio captured the Americans from Admirals down to coal passers. From the hour of arrival to the hour of departure it was a constant, an incessant exchange of friendship's prisoners. Without this the American fleet could never have sailed away, and the fears expressed in the United States when the fleet left on its cruise that it might never come back as a unit or in parts would have been realized.

It was easy as a matter of seamanship to sail into Rio harbor. It was as hard a job as any American Admiral ever tackled, as a matter of parting with friends, to sail out. Any American President who may order a fleet of battleships into this harbor in the future should take that matter into serious consideration. The Americans do not want to lose their battleships. Prudence requires caution hereafter in running risks with Brazilian hospitality.

It was about 9 o'clock on Sunday morning, January 12, when the fleet passed Cape Frio, seventy-five miles to the east of Rio. Far back on the hills is a signal station. It used the international code and the flags that snapped in the breeze said:

"Welcome, American fleet!"

"Sounds pretty good," said a signal officer. Then came the Yankton, which had been sent on ahead to meet Admiral Evans and inform him of the plans for anchoring and receptions and the like. Just before noon three Brazilian warships were observed about a dozen miles out from Rio. On they came and bugles were sounded and rails manned and salutes exchanged. One, two, three, and so on, went the guns of the Brazilian cruiser that led the two torpedo boats. One by one the reports were counted carefully, as is always the case on a warship. Thirteen were boomed out and then came another and another and then a stop. It was a Vice-Admiral's salute.

Instantly the query ran through the fleet: Has Admiral Evans been promoted? The wiseacres were not deceived. They said that the Brazilians reasoned that the Commander-in-Chief of any fleet the size of this should be a Vice-Admiral, and that the Brazilians were taking no chances in not being sufficiently polite to cover any contingency.

Soon the mountains immediately surrounding the beautiful harbor came into view. A dozen steam launches had ventured outside. Then came the careful evolutions of getting into exact column for entering the harbor.

The day was beautiful, old Sugar Loaf and Corcovado and all the other peaks seemed to be standing up with the dignity of stiff salutes, and then came a peep into the narrow entrance of the harbor. The place was alive with small boats. The signal stations were all aflutter with welcome flags.

Slowly the Connecticut led the way and, when just beyond old Fort Santa Cruz on the eastern side, boomed a salute to the port. From a little rock all smoothed off and fairly polished, given up entirely to a fort, Villegagnon, came the answering salute. Instantly the whistles of hundreds of craft were set loose and tied down. No American has ever heard such a shrieking of vessels except at the international yacht races off Sandy Hook. The noise at Sandy Hook was greater because the number of boats about was greater; that's the only reason. How-de-do and welcome came from big and little craft all loaded down with people in their Sunday best, if they have such things down here. Parenthetically it may be remarked that judging from the way the women dress for street wear every day is Sunday with them in the matter of clothes. There were half a dozen boat crews out in eight-oared barges. Launches, rowboats, steamers, ferryboats, sailing craft of all kinds were just inside the harbor entrance.

Soon magnificent Botafoga Bay unfolded itself with that wonderfully beautiful long reach of avenue, Bairo-Mar, running four miles in a crescent from the heart of the city toward Sugar Loaf, all set out in artistic landscape treatment. It was black with the people. Then the fleet approached the city proper. With a glass one could make out that the hills, the houses, the waterfront were black with the people. As Vice-Admiral Maurity afterward said in a speech:

"The whole of the population of Rio, of all ages, chiefly belonging to the fair sex, could not avoid going out of their houses to crowd the neighborhoods of the harbor, the hills and islands around it, and all other points of view from the city of Rio and the Nictheroy's side, in order to greet the passage of the American fleet and to better appreciate the interesting display of her manœuvres."

Moreover, the population had been waiting there practically for two days. The fleet was scheduled to come in on Saturday. All of Saturday and far into the night tens of thousands had waited upon the hills and waterfronts. They were back, we were told, early on Sunday morning and they blackened and whitened the entire city. The American officers were almost dumfounded. What does it all mean, was the general inquiry.

On steamed the Connecticut, and it was discovered that there was a German cruiser, the Bremen, in the harbor. More salutes! By the way, it may be remarked that Admiral Evans got the Rear Admiral's salute inside the harbor, the proper one that his two-starred flag requires. He got another Vice-Admiral's salute—and many persons thought it was a delicate hint to the United States—when the Italian cruiser Puglia came in a day or two later and gave him fifteen guns.

When the ships anchored in four lines opposite the central part of the city, the Brazilian ships, about a dozen of them, were anchored inside. Pratique was granted within half an hour of the time of the anchoring, which required some slow manœuvring in order to reach the exact positions.

No official calls were made that night because it was well after 5 o'clock when the last anchor was down, and it was Sunday. The populace thronged the waterfront, in some places ten deep, until after dark, and then the Brazilian ships illuminated in honor of the fleet. Fireworks were set off from the hilltops. Still the people stayed on the waterfront. Up to midnight they could be seen in thousands. They were there when daylight came; if not the same ones, then a fresh relay. From that day on until the ships left there never was an hour when the waterfront, especially of the city proper, was not thronged with the people looking at the ships.

The far famed Bay of Rio! What shall be said about it? Travellers and guide books have told of its beauties without ceasing. Every well-informed person knows that it is regarded as the finest in the world, that even Naples is dwarfed in these descriptions in comparison. It is worth while to recount its glories again, especially as it revealed itself to naval men.

The writer knows of no better naval twist to give to such a description than was written by Herman Melville, who entered this bay on the United States frigate United States way back in 1843, and who has described the scene in his fascinating book "White Jacket." Nature is still the same. Old Sugar Loaf, the liberty capped Corcovado, literally the hunchback, the Organ Mountains and all the other peaks still rear their heads as they did then and encircle Rio. Here is what Melville wrote from a naval standpoint:

"Talk not of Bahia de Todos os Santos, the Bay of All Saints, for though that be a glorious haven, yet Rio is the Bay of all Rivers, the Bay of all Delights, the Bay of all Beauties. From circumjacent hillsides untiring summer hangs perpetually in terraces of vivid verdure, and embossed with old mosses convent and castle nestle in valley and glen.

"All around deep inlets run into the green mountain land, and overhung with wild highlands more resemble Loch Katrine than Lake Leman, yet here in Rio both the loch and the lake are but two wild flowers in a prospect that is almost unlimited. For behold, far away and away stretches the broad blue of the water to yonder soft swelling hills of light green, backed by the purple pinnacles and pipes of the grand Organ Mountains fitly so-called, for in thunder time they roll cannonades down the bay, drowning the blended bass of all the cathedrals in Rio.

"Archipelago Rio, ere Noah on old Ararat anchored his ark, there lay anchored in you all these green rocky isles I now see, but God did not build on you, isles, those long lines of batteries, nor did our blessed Saviour stand godfather at the christening of you, you frowning fortress of Santa Cruz, though named in honor of Himself, the divine Prince of Peace.

"Amphitheatrical Rio! in your broad expanse might be held the Resurrection and Judgment Day of the whole world's men-o'-war, represented by the flagships of fleets—the flagships of the Phœnician armed galleys of Tyre and Sidon; of King Solomon's annual squadrons that sailed to Ophir, whence in aftertimes, perhaps, sailed the Acapulco fleets of the Spaniards, with golden ingots for ballasting; the flagships of all the Greek and Persian craft that exchanged the warhug at Salamis; of all the Roman and Egyptian galleys that, eaglelike, with blood dripping prows, beaked each other at Actium; of all the Danish keels of the Vikings; of all the mosquito craft of Abba Thule, King of the Pelaws, when he went to vanquish Artinsall; of all the Venetian, Genoese and Papal fleets that came to shock at Lepanto; of both horns of the Spanish Armada; of the Portuguese squadron that under the gallant Gama chastised the Moors and discovered the Moluccas; of all the Dutch navies led by Van Tromp and sunk by Admiral Hawke; of the forty-seven French and Spanish sail-of-the-line that for three months essayed to batter down Gibraltar; of all Nelson's seventy-fours that thunderbolted off St. Vincent's, at the Nile, Copenhagen and Trafalgar; of all the frigate merchantmen of the East India Company; of Perry's war brigs, sloops and schooners that scattered the British armament on Lake Erie; of all the Barbary corsairs captured by Bainbridge; of the war canoes of Polynesian Kings, Tamma-hammaha and Pomare—ay, one and all, with Commodore Noah for their Lord High Admiral, in this abounding Bay of Rio might all come to anchor and swing round in concert to the first of the flood.

"Rio is a small Mediterranean, and what was fabled of the entrance to that sea, in Rio is partly made true, for here at the mouth stands one of Hercules's Pillars, the Sugar Loaf Mountain, 1,000 feet high, inclining over a little like the leaning tower of Pisa. At its base crouch like mastiffs the batteries of José and Theodosia, while opposite you are menaced by a rock bounded fort. The channel between—the sole inlet to the bay—seems but a biscuit's toss over, you see naught of the landlocked sea within until fairly in the strait. But then what a sight is beheld! Diversified as the harbor of Constantinople, but a thousandfold grander. When the Neversink (the frigate United States) swept in word was passed, 'Aloft, topmen! and furl t'-gallant sails and royals!' At the sound I sprang into the rigging and was soon at my perch. How I hung over that main royal yard in a rapture! High in air, poised over that magnificent bay, a new world to my ravished eyes. I felt like the foremost of a flight of angels new lighted upon earth from some star in the Milky Way."

Few men on this fleet felt the rapture that Melville described so poetically, but every one felt a thrill. Had Melville lived to more recent times he might have included the fleet of Farragut and Porter, of the Austrians and Italians, of the Russians and Japanese, of the Spanish, in that mighty roll call of the ressurrection of fleets of the world, for surely there is room for all.

For twenty miles up there is deep water in the bay, and hiding places too among the 365 islands, one for every day in the year, that stud the waters. Santa Cruz and all the other forts Melville mentions are still there and a dozen more besides, most of them inside the harbor, built, as one grim fighter on the American fleet said, more for use against domestic than foreign foes. The very situation of those forts spells out fear of revolution, but that's another matter.

The next morning after arrival came the unfolding of Rio to the visitors. Even those who had visited the place before had shaken their heads solemnly about it. The scenery all about is grand, they said, wonderful, but the city itself—well, hands were raised in deprecation, nostrils dilated, followed by a sad shake of heads. Didn't the guide books tell you it was a foul, ill smelling place? Wasn't it a matter of course that the city would be reeking with yellow fever in this its midsummer time?

The officials told the fleet officers that there was no yellow fever in the place. Polite expressions of surprise with surreptitious nudges behind the back! They said that the city had been transformed in the last four years, was well paved and beautified and they expressed the hope that the Americans would like it. More expressions of polite surprise and assurances that the city always was attractive, with more nudges behind the back. And then when the officials went back to shore didn't the officers make a dive for the ships' libraries and read facts, real facts, mind you, about the place? Didn't W. E. Curtis write this about Rio:

"Viewed from the deck of a ship in the harbor the city of Rio looks like a fragment of fairyland—a cluster of alabaster castles decorated with vines; but the illusion is instantly dispelled upon landing, for the streets are narrow, damp, dirty, reeking with repulsive odors and filled with vermin covered beggars and wolfish looking dogs. There is now and then a lovely little spot where nature has displayed her beauties unhindered and the environs of the city are filled with the luxury of tropical vegetation; but there are only a few fine residences, a few pleasant promenades, and a few clusters of regal palms which look down upon the filth and squalor of the town with dainty indifference. The palm is the peacock of trees. Nothing can degrade it, and the filth in which it often grows only serves to heighten its beauty. The pavements are of the roughest cobblestone; the streets are so narrow that scarcely a breath of air can enter them, and the sunshine cannot reach the pools of filth that steam and fester in the gutters, breeding plagues."

There are half a dozen descriptions such as that, some of them as recent as 1900. Oh, yes, the Americans knew what kind of a city they were going to see. Hadn't some of them been here before? Didn't some of the surgeons on the fleet shake their heads gravely when it was signalled from the flagship that there would be general liberty?

What did the Americans find? This is part of what the Americans saw; it would take pages to tell it all:

They saw one of the cleanest and best paved cities in the world. New York in the Waring days never had cleaner streets. There was not a foul smell in evidence. There was even no West street or South street odor along the waterfront. Where the streets were not of asphalt they were of wood. There were no beggars on the highways; at any rate the Sun's correspondent did not see one, and he spent hours ashore every day.

The old part of town still has its narrow streets, the chief of which, Ouvridor, is about half as wide as Nassau street and which no vehicles are permitted to enter. But the great surprise of all was the magnificent Central avenue, built within the last four years right through the heart of the city from north to south, just as Napoleon built highways in Paris, connecting at the south with the great sweeping shore boulevards, where the beautiful Monroe Palace stands.

This new avenue rivals anything that Paris can show. It is about 120 feet wide, with sidewalks fifteen feet broad. In the centre are lofty lights on artistic poles, each group set in a little isle of safety filled with flowers and grasses and plants. The architecture along the avenue is harmonious throughout. The effect is imposing and makes a New Yorker think.

But those sidewalks! It is mighty fortunate for New York that she has none like them. If she had, the psychopathic ward in Bellevue would have to be enlarged ten times over for the patrons of the Great White Way.

They are big mosaics, composed of small pieces of black and white granite. The black pieces are used for ornamentation. Every block has a different design. Some have zigzags, others curves and curlycues, others dragons and starfish (at least they resemble such), others swing here and there; others are straight, until you feel that all you need is a brass band to make you march; others take you in swoops this way and that; arrows and daggers point themselves at you; bouquets in stone attract you until you almost feel that you want to stoop to get a whiff; but the predominant feeling is that the designs were sunk for sailors to roll back to the ship on, heaving to occasionally for bearings; or for intoxicated men to take another tack in the hope of finding a shorter way.

One of the bluejackets hit this particular "beach" one afternoon after he had been drinking too much. He stopped short and called to his mate, a few feet away:

"Bill, come here! Take me away! What do I see? Look at 'em! Snakes? Yes, they are snakes! I got 'em! Hit that big feller on the head! It's the brig fer me when I get back. Take me away, Bill! Think o' the disgrace o' gettin' the jimjams in a foreign port. Bowery booze fer me after this! Take me away, Bill! 'Tain't snakes? Honest? Jes' sidewalk? 'Ray for Brazil!"

Then the bluejacket got on his knees and felt to make sure it was "jes' sidewalk" while a crowd of Brazilians gathered around and some of them thought Yankee sailors either had queer ways of investigation or of making their devotions under the effect of libations and smiled, and in Portuguese told Bill and Tom they were good fellows.

As one went to the south on this Central avenue he came upon the nearly finished municipal theatre, one of the handsomest playhouses in the world and probably the largest in the western hemisphere. Then came the new public library and other Federal and municipal buildings that are being erected back of old Castello Hill, where the first settlers squatted, and the remains of their huddled manner of living still present themselves to the eye. And then one came to the white Renaissance pile, the strikingly beautiful Monroe Palace, named after our own Monroe, whose famous doctrine is woven into the woof and warp of the Brazilian institutions.

The building is segregated and is at the very gate of the great boulevard system fronting on the bay. It is conspicuous from the harbor. Brazil's flag—the green field, representing luxuriant vegetation; the yellow diamond, representing the gold and other mineral wealth; the broad, banded globe of blue in the centre, representing the dominion of Brazil, with one star above the equator for its single State in the northern hemisphere, and other stars in the south portraying the southern States, and also the famous constellation of the Southern Cross at a certain significant date in the year—the Brazilian flag flew from the dome and on each corner were large American flags.

This palace is where the Pan-American Congress met, where Secretary Root made a profound impression in his address. Next to Roosevelt the name of Root is foremost on the lips of Brazilians. His visit made the deepest impression here. It is still talked of, even on the highways. That visit, the Monroe Palace and the visit of this fleet are bound to be felt for years in the expressions of genuine international friendship of various kinds which will be made between the two great republics of the North and South.

Then one saw the boulevard system. Again one must repress himself. It is safe to say that no city in the world has anything like it, that no avenue or highway is more beautiful and imposing. One might combine the beauties of the waterfront of Naples and Nice or of any spot in the Riviera with those of the Shore Drive of New York's Narrows and Riverside Drive and Lafayette Boulevard in New York, and still they could not compare with this beautifully ornamented stretch of boulevard that curves about the bright blue bay.

Illuminated with thousands of lights at night the effect from the harbor is that of a long crescent of diamonds flashing upon the forehead of the bay. No one who has ever seen this highway of miles with its palatial dwellings fronting upon it and set back against the hills can ever forget it. It wasn't here when Melville wrote, but truly it makes the city Amphitheatrical Rio!

Then the Americans began to wander about the city. The narrow streets in the business district are like those of Havana and many other cities of people of Latin descent. Through this part of town run little mule propelled tramways with the narrow rails so close to the sidewalks that when the tram is crowded to the side steps there is danger of sweeping the passengers off by passing pedestrians. The visitors saw the cafés, real cafés, where the principal drink is coffee, "strong as the devil, as black as ink, as hot as hell and as sweet as love."

Some of the Americans liked the coffee, but the wise ones confined their drinking to limeades. Then the visitors saw the many crowded cinematograph shows, the crowded shops, the powdered, and what Americans would call overdressed women, the panorama of the highways, the newsboys, the hundreds of lottery shops.

But above all else they noted the clean condition of things. They asked if it was a sudden spurt of cleanliness and were told that it was not. They asked how about these new streets and the extensive, harmonious and comprehensive building that is going on. It was declared to be part of a broad policy that has been in progress for four or five years, part of a plan to make Rio one of the most beautiful cities in the world, a plan to make it fit the magnificent surroundings which nature has provided for it. American opinion was all summed up in this general expression:

"As handsome a city as I ever saw."