Doctor MacDonald, of Greater New York, arose and began his report. But the forgotten National band was in attendance below in the patio and, thinking it their turn, started playing, “There’ll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town To-night,” so that although the doctor’s lips moved vigorously and there was intelligence in his facial expression, no voice could be heard. The secretary’s smile vanished for a moment as he rushed out on the veranda of the patio and waved the well-meaning musical patriots, who had stuck to the congress closer than friends, to silence. When order was restored and smiles smoothed out, the speaker began again.
“Mr. President! Members of the Fourth Pan-American Medical Congress! Physicians of Panama! Conquerors and possessors of this beautiful waist of our glorious continent, of which the United States is the bosom and Brazil the bustle!
“On behalf of those who, like Achilles, have been beaten about by unpropitious winds; on behalf of those who were unfortunate enough to embark in an ancient ship called the Athos, built by Greeks and navigated by dagoes, and renamed by us the Pathos, I wish to give greetings, and submit our report to the North American members, the Middle American members, and the South American member.
“Our classic ship had chosen December 12, 1904, at 11 A. M. to sail from Baltimore, and promised to arrive at Colón the next year in time for us to be here to breakfast with you at 11 A. M. But the ship left one day late. It was bound for a Spanish country where to-morrow is always in time, and where to-morrow never arrives. And the jealous dagoes, not to be outdone by rivals or arrivals on the old Spanish main, added another to-morrow, and another, knowing that they had only doctors to deal with.
“And we, like good Samaritans and average physicians, allowed them to do as they pleased, viz., to start late and put us in a special ship that has not been seaworthy since the birth of Christ, and is good only for doctors who are supposed to delight in resuscitating one another when shipwrecked. And when we awoke on the day we were to arrive for breakfast we, to our surprise, discovered that we were three days from our destination. We consulted, we agreed, but we found no remedy. We had no firearms about our persons, and only firewater at our disposal. We had lances and poisons and corkscrews with us, but could only kill time. And so we allowed the dagoes to live to bring us here.
“This, ladies and gentlemen, is our excuse which must, on account of the importance of our mission, go on our records as a matter of history and hysteria, for we had members of both sexes among us.
“But we are here, and desire to thank you for waiting for us, for delaying President Amador’s reception until this afternoon, and the opening exercises until this evening. We are glad to come in time to assist you in honoring and emptying the $25,000 barrel.[3]
[3] The following newspaper clipping deserves to be preserved as a part of the subsequent history of this remarkable boat:
FACE DANGERS OF OCEAN.