It is only necessary to go down to the immense docks of Buenos Aires to get a vivid idea of the vast commerce of this city. It is a scene that cannot be duplicated even in New York with its far greater traffic. All you can see along those docks is the lofty bow of an ocean greyhound heaving up now and then above the dock-shed, as the tide ebbs and flows, and each one looks very much like the other. Here in Buenos Aires they stretch along the edges of the basins, funnel behind funnel, bridge behind bridge, as far as one can see, until the vision is lost in a veritable sea of masts. A splendid freighter just in from Europe and loaded with champagne, automobiles and other luxuries may lie next to a river boat just in from Paraguay and loaded with oranges and bananas. Giant cranes are swinging, heaped-up trucks are constantly on the move and men are carrying loads backward and forward. Here are vessels from all the carrying nations of the world, flying the flags of Germany, Italy, France, Great Britain, Spain and Austria, but the flag of the United States is not visible. Out of the thousands of vessels which entered this port last year, there were only four small ships that sailed under the stars and stripes of Uncle Sam. Out in the river dozens of boats may be seen anchored, for the freighters are oftentimes obliged to wait three or four weeks before they can enter one of the basins and discharge their cargo. Outside the vast warehouses, which are always packed clear to the roofs, are scores of trucks and drays busily loading or unloading, and conveying freight to and from the railroad freight depots and the commission houses. And just beyond the line of drays is the dock railroad, where the switch engines are busily engaged in shoving cars backward and forward.