the busbies and bare sabers of Squadron A, halting at the entrance to the park to salute as the visitors went past. As a troop of mounted police galloped into the Plaza, the Seventh Regiment band struck up the "Marseillaise." On the heels of the police came the car in which was Marshal Joffre. The crowd needed only the sight of his red cap to shout and cheer. Cries that rose from the enclosing walls of skyscrapers came back in redoubled echoes. Mr. Choate and M. Viviani got out first, then Marshal Joffre. The red cap, the fluttering blue-gray cape that gave a glimpse of red trousers, were signals enough; cheers broke forth, wave after wave, rising in greater volume and lasting until the whole automobile party had climbed the steps and passed into the building. On the steps stood men of the Old Guard, sabers at salute, and wearing their great bearskins, reminiscent of another Old Guard that had fought a hundred years before under another great soldier of France. To the left and right were members of the Veteran Corps of Artillery. Inside the lobby gleamed patent-leather shakoes and white duck trousers on members of the Society of the War of 1812, and the buff and blue of the Sons of the Revolution, whose forefathers had greeted Frenchmen on the same spot.

Through lines of officers, with swords at salute, the visitors strode up the central stairway and turned into the Governor's room, the southern end of which had been cleared for their reception. There Mayor Mitchel, General Wood, General Bell, Admiral Usher and civilian members of the Mayor's Committee had gathered to receive the visitors and listen to speeches by the Mayor, Mr. Choate, and M. Viviani. Long and continuous was the applause that followed M. Viviani when he closed his speech, and as it died away Mayor Mitchel said: "Gentlemen, I now present to you the great Marshal of France, who stopt them at the Marne." Silk hats went into the air again, the cheering resounding with deafening force. Marshal Joffre had stood through all the previous ceremonies in Olympian serenity; nothing about him moved except his eyes, restlessly flashing this way and that under jutting gray eyebrows. With his calm still unruffled, he saluted the audience. Not content with salutes, they cheered continuously, louder and louder, until he sud

denly broke into a childlike smile of amazing sweetness and kissed his hand to every part of the room.

There was a sort of informal reception after that, with everybody pressing forward to shake hands with the Commissioners, who afterward made a brief tour of the City

Hall, and then passed out between double lines of saluting swords to the automobiles in waiting, where the crowd still lingered, massed about the park, clinging to the roofs of street-cars, and blocking every window in the skyscraper walls. Bands again burst into the "Marseillaise" and children began to sing it, as the long line of automobiles were slowly filled and driven out of the eastern end of the park, to begin a long journey northward to the Henry C. Frick mansion, passing on the way the Lafayette Statue in Union Square, which had been provided with an elaborate setting of evergreen hedge, colored columns and flags of France and the United States. When the automobiles had passed away from the City Hall, artillerymen in khaki followed; then the Old Guard, and last of all the school-girls, marching by fours with the precision of veterans.

JOFFRE PLEASED WITH HIS STATUE OF
LIBERTY IN SOLID GOLD

This miniature replica of the Statue
of Liberty in New York Harbor was
presented to the Marshal in Central
Park during his visit in 1917

The next day's activities began early. Fifth Avenue was only comfortably filled with spectators because almost every one in the neighborhood had hurried to the North Meadow in Central Park, where 20,000 school-children in white.

blouses and tricolor sashes had gathered for the presentation to Marshal Joffre of a miniature in solid gold of the Statue of Liberty on a silver base, purchased with money raised by popular subscription through the efforts of the New York World. The presentation was made in a handsomely decorated pavilion, where fifty thousand or more persons stood in the meadow, or on the rocky slopes that enclose it.

The journey back to the Frick mansion was made through crowded lanes of people, who filled the sidewalks along Fifth Avenue. Other throngs were soon encountered in Fourth, Lafayette and Canal Streets, by which course the French visitors were to reach Manhattan Bridge; for Brooklyn was now to have an opportunity of paying homage to Marshal Joffre and M. Viviani. Brooklyn offered a tribute that would have exceeded the welcome accorded the day before by Manhattan had that been possible. From the moment when the motor-cars bearing the French visitors glided off the bridge, they proceeded through closely banked crowds of men and women, of girls garbed in white, and of boys waving American and French flags. All along the route to the Ninth Street entrance to Prospect Park, where Marshal Joffre was to unveil a statue of Lafayette, and back to the bridge afterward, the motor-cars never escaped dense throngs of shouting admirers. Only when they entered upon the bridge, from which the police had barred spectators, did the crowd cease. On the Brooklyn side of the bridge schoolchildren lined the plaza several deep, each waving a flag. The crowds were denser than in Manhattan. School-children lined every thoroughfare. In Sackett Street young women of Adelphi Academy in caps and gowns stood at the curb and cheered. In Plaza Street, extending along the park, school-children were stationed on a grassy slope where they waved colored handkerchiefs so apportioned as to form an animated flag of France.

When the Marshal and M. Viviani reached the Hotel Astor at 1.30 o'clock, to attend a luncheon given by the Merchants' Association, the speedometer on the car showed. that they had traversed more than thirty miles of city streets and park roadways since leaving the Frick home that morning. All this time, save on the bridge, they had traveled be

tween admiring throngs of spectators. The assemblage at this luncheon was seated in the grand ball-room and the side chambers opening into it, and numbered nearly 2,000-the fortunate firstcomers of more than 10,000 applicants for tickets. Five hundred more sat in the galleries. . Everywhere the American flag was the dominant feature of the decorations—indeed, the only feature, except that above the Chairman and the guests of honor were to be seen the orange, white, and blue of the city flag draped on the wall and above it an American flag flanked by the French tricolor and the British merchant-marine ensign.

After the luncheon the French Commission motored back to the Frick mansion to prepare for their trip to Columbia University, where was conferred on M. Viviani, Marshal Joffre, Mr. Balfour (by proxy), and Lord Cunliffe, Governor of the Bank of England, the degree of Doctor of Laws, the occasion being, as President Nicholas Murray Butler exprest it, one of the most notable in Columbia's history. The exercises were held in the open air on the steps of the library facing One Hundred and Sixteenth Street, and were witnessed by thousands. Marshal Joffre was the figure upon whom all eyes were focused. Dr. Butler, in conferring on him the highest degree which the university can offer, said the recipient had made the name of the River Marne as immortal as Miltiades made that of Marathon. The great throng wildly shouted its full approval of this tribute. When M. Viviani stood up to receive his degree, the crowds cheered with an enthusiasm that was heard to the river-banks. Before the ceremonies Marshal Joffre and M. Viviani had proceeded directly into the library, accompanied by President Butler, in order to greet, in the name of the French Republic, Mr. and Mrs. John Jay Chapman, the parents of Sergeant Victor E. Chapman, the young American aviator who had been killed in action at Verdun in June, 1916, one of the famous fliers of an American group fighting with the French on the Western Front.

After this ceremony Marshal Joffre went directly to Grant's tomb, accompanied by M. Viviani and other members of the Commission. Descending alone into the crypt he climbed a stepladder that had been hurriedly requisitioned

as a means by which he might reach the top of the sarcophagus, in which rest the remains of the Union commander. There he deposited a wreath of laurel, held together by the colors of France and America. Above at the circular stonerail with bared heads stood the other members of the Commission, Mayor Mitchel, General Leonard Wood, General Daniel Appleton, and a few others. The police estimated that at least 25,000 people had gathered outside the Tomb. It was an impressive scene when the French soldier below in the darkened crypt, at the top of the ladder, paid this tribute to the great soldier of another era and of another war for human liberty. After he had arranged the wreath, he stept back and stood at attention, his hand at salute, uttered a few words in French, so low that they were inaudible in that stillness even to those above him. After a brief inspection of the battle-flags, Marshal Joffre reappeared on the floor above. From Grant's tomb the visitors went to the Joan of Arc statue at Riverside Drive and Ninety-third Street, where Marshal Joffre placed a wreath of laurel at the base of the monument, the crowd meanwhile silent, men and boys baring their heads. The ceremony was as brief as it was impressive, and was over in less than five minutes. The party then went through Seventy-ninth Street and Central Park to the Frick mansion to prepare for the events of the evening.

At 10.30 Marshal Joffre stood in the great reading-room of the Public Library where clerks give out books as taken off the dumb-waiter, and made the third of his four brief speeches of the day to a pushing crowd that almost overwhelmed him, despite the moderating influence of a large body of policemen. He had stopt there for a few minutes only while on his way to the Metropolitan Opera House. The decorations and lighting about the library provided a spectacle that New York had seldom if ever surpassed. A pillared court of honor was built along Fifth Avenue from Fortieth to Forty-second Street; its columns wreathed with evergreens and surmounted by urns, American eagles and symbolic medallions at each column with the draped flags of the twelve Allies. From the marble balustrade in front of the library-terrace three tall poles were raised on either side