wealth and their energy.

Here they meet once a year--the stern, ancient city, represented by its
sturdy citizens, its fair women, its proud inhabitants, and Holland's
youthful Queen, blossoming forth as a symbol of new, fresh life, fresh
hope and promise. Here they meet, the sons and daughters of the men and
women who never gave way, who saw their immense riches accrue, as their
liberties grew, by sheer force of will, by inflexible determination, by
dauntless power of purpose; here they meet, the last descendant of the
famous House of Orange-Nassau, the queenly bride, whose forefathers were
well entitled to let their proud war-cry resound on the battlefields of
Europe: 'A moi, genereux sang de Nassau!'

When the Queen is in Amsterdam the citizens go out to the 'Dam,' the
Square where the palace stands, offering their homage by cheers and
waving of hats, and by singing the war-psalm of the old warriors of
William the Silent, 'Wilhelmus van Nassouwe.' Then the leaders of
Amsterdam, its merchants, scientists, and artists, leave their beautiful
homes on Heeren-and Keizers-gracht, with their wives and daughters
wrapped in costly garments, glittering in profusion of diamonds and
rubies and pearls, and drive to the huge palace to offer homage to their
Queen, just as proud as she, just as patriotic as she, just as faithful
and loyal as she.

Three hundred years have done their incessant work in welding the House of
Orange and Amsterdam together; ruptures and quarrels have occurred; yet,
after every struggle, both found out that they could not well do without
each other; and now when the Queen and the city meet, mutual respect,
mutual confidence, and reciprocal affection attest the firm bond which
unites them.