the haste with which the ailing and hypochondriac Emperor sought to
build himself a retreat from the world. Still, the little excursion--for
Salona is only five miles from Spalato--provided much that was worth the
seeing: a partially excavated amphitheater, a long row of stone
sarcophagi lying in a trench, one or two fine gates, and some
beautifully preserved mosaics. I must confess, however, that I was more
interested in the modern aspects of this region than in its glorious
past, for, standing upon the massive walls of the Roman city, I looked
down upon a panorama of power such as Diocletian had never pictured in
his wildest dreams, for, moored in a long and impressive row, their
stern-lines made fast to the _Molo_, was a line of war-ships flying the
flags of England, France, Italy, and the United States. On the right of
the line, as befitted the fact that its commander was the senior naval
officer and in charge of all this portion of the coast, was Admiral
Andrews's flag-ship, the _Olympia_, but little changed, at least to the
casual glance, since that day, more than twoscore years ago, when she
blazed her way into Manila Bay and won for us a colonial empire. On her
bridge, outlined in brass tacks, I was shown Admiral Dewey's footprints,
just as he stood at the beginning of the battle when he gave the order
"You may fire when you are ready, Gridley."

Of the 18,000 inhabitants of Spalato, less than a tenth are Italian, the
general character of the town and the sympathies of its inhabitants
being strongly pro-Slav. In fact, its streets were filled with Jugoslav
soldiers, many of them still wearing the uniforms of the Austrian
regiments in which they had served but with Serbian _képis_, while
others looked strangely familiar in khaki uniforms furnished them by the
United States. It being warm weather, most of the men wore their coats
unbuttoned, thereby displaying a considerable expanse of hairy chest or
violently colored underwear and producing a somewhat negligée effect.