IV

The keen spirit of the city was reflected in the welcome it gave the
Prince. It was a wet, grey day, but the whole town was out to line the
streets and to gather at the ceremonial points. And it was a musical
greeting. Edmonton is prone to melody. Brass bands appear to flourish
here. There was one at every street corner. And not only did they
play as the Prince in the midst of his red-tuniced "Mountie" escort
passed by, but they played all day, so that the city was given over to
a non-stop carnival of popular airs.

At the Parliament Buildings the crowds were as dense as ever. They
showed the same spirit in listening to addresses and reply, and the
same hustling sense of "getting there" when entering the building to
take part in the public reception. The addresses of welcome were a
novelty. Engrossed on vellum, it had been sewn on the purple silk
lining of a yellow-furred coyote skin, a local touch that interested
the Prince. There was another such touch after the reception. A body
of Stony Indians were presented to His Royal Highness. These Indians
had travelled from a distance in the hope of seeing the son of the
Great White Chief, and they not only saw him but were presented to him.
He talked with particular sympathy to one chief whose son had been a
comrade-in-arms in the Canadian ranks during the war and who had been
killed in the fighting.

The opening of a war memorial hall, a big and dazzling dance at the
Government House, and other functions, fulfilled the usual round. And,
last but not least, the Prince became a player and a "fan" in a ball
game.

There was a match (I hope "match" is right) between the local team, and
one of its passionate rivals, and the Prince went to the ground to take
part. Walking to the "diamond" (I'm sure that is right), he equipped
himself in authentic manner, with floppy, jockey-peaked cap and a
ruthless glance, took his stance as a "pitcher" and delivered two
balls. I don't know whether they were stingers or swizzers, or
whatever the syncopated phraseology of the great game dubs them, but
they were matters of great admiration.

Having led to the undoing (I hope, for that was his task) of some one,
the Prince then joined the audience. He chose not the best seats, but
the popular ones, for he sat on the grass among the "bleachers," and
when one has sat out of the shade in the hot prairie sun one knows what
"bleachers" means.

This sporting little interlu