General Pershing stepped from his private car. Flashlights boomed and
batteries of camera men manoeuvred into positions for the lens
barrage. The band of the Garde Republicaine blared forth the strains of
the "Star Spangled Banner," bringing all the military to a halt and a
long standing salute. It was followed by the "Marseillaise."

At the conclusion of the train-side greetings and introductions, Marshal
Joffre and General Pershing walked down the platform together. The tops
of the cars of every train in the station were crowded with workmen. As
the tall, slender American commander stepped into view, the privileged
observers on the car-tops began to cheer.

A minute later, there was a terrific roar from beyond the walls of the
station. The crowds outside had heard the cheering within. They took it
up with thousands of throats. They made their welcome a ringing one.
Paris took Pershing by storm.

The General was ushered into the specially decorated reception chamber,
which was hung and carpeted with brilliant red velvet and draped with
the Allied flags. After a brief formal exchange of greetings in this
large chamber, he and his staff were escorted to the line of waiting
automobiles at the side of the station in the Rue de Roubaix.

Pershing's appearance in the open was the cue for wild, unstinted
applause and cheering from the crowds which packed the streets and
jammed the windows of the tall buildings opposite.

General Pershing and M. Painleve, Minister of War, took seats in a large
automobile. They were preceded by a motor containing United States
Ambassador Sharp and former Premier Viviani. The procession started to
the accompaniment of martial music by massed military bands in the
courtyard of the station. It passed through the Rue de Compiegne, the
Rue de Lafayette, the Place de l'Opera, the Boulevard des Capucines, the
Place de la Madeleine, the Rue Royale, to the Place de la Concorde.

There were some fifty automobiles in the line, the rear of which was
brought up by an enormous motor-bus load of the first American soldiers
from the ranks to pass through the streets of Paris.

The crowds overflowed the sidewalks. They extended from the building
walls out beyond the curbs and into the streets, leaving but a narrow
lane through which the motors pressed their way slowly and with the
exercise of much care. From the crowded balconies and windows
overlooking the route, women and children tossed down showers of