ve been permitted
to assemble here this afternoon. There is no braver man on land or
sea than the American marine; and on behalf of the entire American
army of occupation, I bid you a most cordial welcome."

Touching upon the question of territorial expansion, the speaker said:

"This was a war for humanity, not for conquest. But simply because
it suddenly closed and left us in possession of large tracts of
new territory, is no reason why these spoils of war should be given
up. I hold this to be true Americanism: that wherever the old flag
is established through sacrifice of American blood, whether it be on
the barren sands of the desert, at the frigid extremes of the earth,
or on the rich and fertile islands of the sea, there is should remain
triumphant, shedding forth beams of liberty to the oppressed, shouts
of defiance to the oppressor, and furnish protection and enlightenment
to all who come beneath its streaming folds forever!" (applause).

A chubby Filipino maiden, standing near the speaker's stand, and
who had listened intently to every word of the address, because she
now understood the English tongue, quietly elbowed her way through
the dense crowd which was gradually becoming more compressed, until
she reached a car drawn by two Chinese ponies on the old street car
line running south from Manila to Fort Malate and back. Taking the
car she rode up town to the Escolta. Going into the postoffice, she
hastily wrote and mailed to Aguinaldo at Malolos a letter containing
an account of what was said. It follows:

"Manila, P. I., Jan. 1, 1899.

My Dear General:

Those wretched Americans are holding some kind of exercises on the
Luneta this afternoon. I heard one of the speeches. It was awful
bad. The fellow talked loud. He swung his hands in the air and the
crowd seemed to get terribly excited over what he was saying.

He told about that treaty of peace, and he said no power under the
sun would haul down the American flag from over Manila.

It made me angry. I am going right out to the Filipino trenches to
see my Uncle (Colonel Miguel). He'll fix those fellows. I'll bet
he'll haul down their flag before tomorrow morning.

Goodby,

Marie."

The evening program on the Luneta, which followed the afternoon
exercises, was largely literary in its nature. It consisted of music
by the California band, singing by the famous Washington Male Quartet,
fancy dancing, selected recitations, and stump speeche