mpest. As he
closed, the audience of at least two thousand burst into applause,
clapping their hands. Dr. Vincent came forward, and said, "The speaker
is unable to hear your applause; let us wave our handkerchiefs instead
of clapping our hands."

In an instant the grove was transformed into a garden of white lilies
dancing under the leaves of the trees, or as some said, "into a
snow-covered field." The Superintendent of Instruction then and there
adopted the Chautauqua Salute of the waving handkerchiefs as a token of
special honor. It is sparingly given, only two or three times during the
season, and never except when called for by the head of Chautauqua in
person.

At the annual commemoration on "Old First Night" the Chautauqua salute
is now given in a peculiar manner to the memory of Lewis Miller and
other leaders who are no longer among us. At the call of the President,
the handkerchiefs are slowly raised and held in absolute stillness for a
moment; then as silently lowered. The Chautauqua salute is one of the
traditions observed in minutest detail after the manner of the
Founders.

Among the early issues of the _Assembly Herald_ appear some verses
worthy of a place in our history.

THE CHAUTAUQUA SALUTE

BY MAY M. BISBEE

Have you heard of a wonderful lily
That blooms in the fields of air?
With never a stem or a pale green leaf,
Spotless, and white, and fair?
Unnamed in the books of wise men,
Nor akin to the queenly rose;
But the white Chautauqua lily
Is the fairest flower that grows.

Never in quiet meadows,
By brookside cool and green,
In garden-plot, nor in forest glen,
This wonderful flower is seen.
It grows in goodly companies,
A theme for the poet's pen;
It loves not silence, nor cold nor dark,
But it blooms in the haunts of men.

The nation trails its great men
Of high and honored name,
With clapping of hands and roll of drums
And trump that sings of fame;
But a sweet and silent greeting
To the ones we love the best,
Are the white Chautauqua lilies
In our summer home of rest.

When the beautiful vesper service
Has died on the evening air,
And a thousand happy faces
Are raised at the