From collected ½ million of persons on hills of S. F. one mad yall of star-spangly joy. Fire-crack salute, siren whistle, honk-horn, megaphone, extra edition, tenor solo—all connected together to give impressions of loyal panderonium. What say Lord Macawber, English history-poet, in “Lies of Ancient Rome”?
“And even the ranks of Tuskagee
Could scarce forbear a cheer.”
(I wish I could sent this wire-telegram for speed. Please excuse sneer from Hon. Operator.)
I haven’t yet saw them gallant Adm. Robert D. Evans, but I take delicious look at Hon. Battle-boat Conn. by 2 opera glasses (kindness loan of Cousin Nogi) & there I see one commanding figure stooding on ¼ deck where shoot & shell might go muckraking four & aft, if such a rude target-practice was going on. Was man I seen them famous sea-doggy what have drove that fleet from N.Y. to S.F. while enjoying twitches of pain what would make considerable Heroes want to quit? If that man I seen was Hon. Evans, Japanese Samurai wants to remove cap to him. He are not a Hero—he are a Marter, which is a Hero tied to a post.
(When Hon. Operator seen my telegraf he-say: “What language is them wrote in?” I am confused.)
“When Hon. Operator see my telegraf he-say ‘What language is them wrote in?’”
For space of several next days this Hon. City are overcame by considerable Program. Something go on each elsewhere including new-build section & also places where remainders of Hon. Earthquack are still enjoyed. Following was did from what little I was aware: