Presently, of course, the supreme moment came.  When all the potentates had taken their positions, right and left, with their silk-limbed soldiery in double ranks behind them, there came into view upstage a squad of little white-clad female naval officers, each, according to my recollection, carrying the Stars and Stripes.  As these marched forward and deployed as skirmishers before the footlights, the orchestra struck up “The Star-Spangled Banner,” fortissimo, and with a liberal sounding of the brasses.  Upon this appeared at the back a counterfeit President of the United States, guarded on either side by a female militia—­or were they perhaps secret-service agents?—­in striking uniforms consisting of pink fleshings partially draped with thin black lace.

As this incongruous parade proceeded to the footlights, American flags came into evidence, and, though I forget whether or not Columbia appeared, I recollect that a beautiful young woman, habited in what appeared to be a light pink union suit of unexceptionable cut and material, appeared above the head of the pseudo-chief executive, suspended at the end of a wire.  Never having heard that it was White House etiquette to hang young ladies on wires above the presidential head, I consulted my program and thereby learned that this young lady represented that species of poultry so popular always with the late Secretary of State, Mr. Bryan, and so popular also at one time with the President himself:  namely, the Dove of Peace.

The applause was thunderous.  At the sound of “The Star-Spangled Banner” a few members of the audience arose to their feet; others soon followed—­some of them apparently with reluctance—­until at last the entire house had risen.  Meanwhile the members of the company lined up before the footlights:  the mock president smirking at the center, the half-clad girls posing, the pink young lady dangling above, the band blaring, the Stars and Stripes awave.  It was a scene, in all, about as conducive to genuine or creditable national pride as would be the scene of a debauch in some fabulous harem.

The difference between stupidity and satire lies, not infrequently, in the intent with which a thing is done.  Presented without essential change upon the stage of a music hall in some foreign land, the scene just described would, at that time, when we were playing a timid part amongst the nations, have been accepted, not as a glorification of the United States, but as having a precisely opposite significance.  It would have been taken for burlesque; burlesque upon our country, our President, our national spirit, our peace policy, our army, and perhaps also upon our women—­and insulting burlesque at that.

Some years since, it was found necessary to pass a law prohibiting the use of the flag for advertising purposes.  This law should be amended to protect it also from the even more sordid and vulgarizing associations to which it is not infrequently submitted on the American musical-comedy stage.