In compliance with our promise not to forget the friends of the missionaries and of their compatriots, of today, we will first speak of California's wonderful enthusiasm in the celebration of the Bi-centenary of Junipero Serra's birth. Of the privileged thousands who visited Monterey on November 23, 1913 and made a pilgrimage to Serra's tomb at San Carlos Mission, how many will efface that sight from their minds in years to come? But this awe-inspiring sight to which Reverend Raymond Mestres and the Franciscan Fathers of San Francisco, contributed so much, and in which the Third Order of Saint Francis so prominently participated will be yearly renewed. Ecclesiastical and civil authorities, towns and cities, individuals, all had the "right spirit." The accounts of the press were glowing. Mr. Frank Powers of Carmel-by-the-Sea was California's representative at the celebration which Spain did not fail to hold in honor of her illustrious son; and Mr. Powers indeed proved a worthy representative, returning to California with renewed enthusiasm for the saintly Serra, and his lectures have been listened to with keen delight. And can any praise seem superfluous for California's apostles in particular for the saintly Serra? At the civil exercises, held in Monterey on the occasion of the celebration we are speaking of, Senator Reginaldo del Valle, of Los Angeles, Mr. Michael Williams and Mr. Charles Phillips of San Francisco each paid exquisite tributes to our hero whom the opening lines of Mr. Phillips' beautiful ode described as: "A young boy dreaming by the Spanish main: Knee-high in waving grain He halts at eve and dreams, Where green Majorca fronts the cycling sea, And far worlds ceaselessly Beckon with passing sail and swinging tide, And plunging galleons ride Home from adventure, or away, away To silken bright Cathay, Or where dark India her golden treasure yields; A young boy dreaming in his father's fields, Who plucks a lily from the bending wheat And stands with veiled gaze and searching eyes Pale with some great emprise, Beyond the homing waters of his isle, Beyond Majorca's skies;-- And dreams and dreams the while!" "And they who love him wonderingly ask: "What lad is this of ours Who dreams away the hours, And when the windy night-tide running sings, So strangely seems Converse to hold with far compelling things? Or what these spirit-smiling ecstasies," They reverent cry, "That halt him at his task And hold him tranced in bright reveries? Is this our lad, indeed, Who with such Heaven-given grace-- Ay, with the light of Heaven on his face!-- Makes question of the very world about?"