, "_Vive l'Amerique!_" for them.

Being the passive recipients of this unusual adulation produced only
embarrassment on the part of the regulars who simply had to sit there,
smiling and taking it. Just to break the one-sided nature of the
demonstrations, one of the enlisted men stood up in his seat and,
addressing himself to his mates, shouted:

"Come on, fellows, let's give 'em a 'veever' ourselves. Now all
together."

The bus-load rose to its feet like one man and shouted "Veever for
France." Their "France" rhymed with "pants," so that none of the French
understood it, but they did understand the sentiment behind the husky
American lungs.

Through such scenes as these, the procession reached the great Place de
la Concorde. In this wide, paved, open space an enormous crowd had
assembled. As the autos appeared the cheering, the flower throwing, the
tumultuous kiss-blowing began. It increased in intensity as the motors
stopped in front of the Hotel Crillon into which General Pershing
disappeared, followed by his staff.

Immediately the cheering changed to a tremendous clamorous demand for
the General's appearance on the balcony in front of his apartments.

"_Au balcon, au balcon_," were the cries that filled the Place. The
crowd would not be denied.

General Pershing stepped forth on the balcony. He stood behind the low
marble railing, and between two enormous white-stoned columns. A cluster
of the Allied flags was affixed to each column. The American commander
surveyed the scene in front of him.

There are no trees or shrubbery in the vast Place de la Concorde. Its
broad paved surface is interrupted only by artistically placed groups of
statuary and fountains.

To the General's right, as he faced the Place, were the trees and
greenery of the broad Champs Elysees. On his left were the fountains and
the gardens of the Tuilleries. At the further end of the Place, five
hundred feet straight in front of him, were the banks and the ornamental
bridges of the Seine, beyond which could be seen the columned facade of
the Chambre des Deputies, and above and beyond that, against the blue
sky of a late June afternoon, rose the majestic golden dome of the
Invalides, over the tomb of Napoleon.

General Pershing looked down upon the sea of faces turned up toward him,
and then it seemed that nature desired to play a part in the ceremony of
that great day. A soft breeze from the Champs Elysees touched the
cluster of flags on