ing or cock-fighting, is strictly forbidden in the Canal Zone. The worst you can say of our Sundays there is that we let our wives and sisters go to church for us in the morning, and go ourselves to baseball games in the afternoon.
The Panamanian Republican Band plays in the little park in the center of the Cathedral Plaza, every Sunday evening from eight to ten. Everybody from the President to the boot-black turns out in his best, to walk round and round the space in front of the bandstand and look at the pretty girls, or sit and sip iced drinks at a table outside one of the cafés, and criticize the music. Like all Latins, they are born musicians, those little brown bandsmen, and they play well.
But no music of theirs can stir an American's heart like that which he can hear at the camp of the Tenth United States Infantry at Empire, or of the Marines at Camp Elliott, when the men stand at attention as the flag comes slowly down, at the end of evening parade. Then you know what music means, when you hear a regimental band play "The Star-Spangled Banner," at sunset, down there in the jungle, two thousand miles from Home.
