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Ebook has 682 lines and 116016 words, and 14 pages

Philippine flowers. A town of swamps. Monotonous scenery. Hawking a pearl. Pearl fisheries. Plentiful fish-supply. 292

AGRICULTURAL POSSIBILITIES

A LAST DAY AT NAGABA--THE "SECWAR"

LETTER XL.

PREPARATIONS

Preparations for the Patron Saint. Arcadian animals. Mr Taft's intentions. Determined patriots. A famous phrase. The blessings of a free press. American altruism. Political Pecksniffs. The spell of indolence. 310

THE FESTIVITIES

WEIGHING ANCHOR

An Iloilo hotel. A faithful servant. Complaisant Americans. Echoes of the visitation. Skilful reporting. A disappointed well-wisher. 337

HOMEWARD BOUND

A FILIPINO GIRL, AGED 10--A CASCO " 14

OLD SPANISH HOUSES AT MOLO " 20

THE BACK OF OUR HOUSE, showing Azotea and Outbuildings " 24

FILIPINO SERVANTS " 28

RIDING A CARABAO " 78

SPANISH ARCHITECTURE IN THE PHILIPPINES: An Old Church at Daraga " 89

MANILA--Malaca?an Palace " 120

MANILA--The Escolta " 126

A STREET IN MANILA, showing the Electric Tram " 129

MANILA--The Luneta " 130

BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF INLAND SUBURBS OF MANILA " 138

A PHILIPPINE PONY " 174

NATIVE HOUSES " 204

THE TRACK OF A TYPHOON " 210

A FILIPINO MARKET-PLACE " 218

A THREE-MAN BREEZE OFF GUIMARAS--A PARAO " 222

A PALM GROVE " 232

CATHEDRAL AND BELFRY AT JARO " 236

A SUBURB OF ILOILO " 242

AWAITING SHIPMENT--Coffins containing Bones of American Soldiers stacked in Malate Cemetery, Manila " 244

A VILLAGE COCK-FIGHT " 287

WATERING CARABAOS " 293

A FILIPINO FISH-MARKET " 294

AN ENGLISHWOMAN IN THE PHILIPPINES

MANILA

The poor beasts stood in rows of pens on the main deck, each fitting tightly into his pen like a bean in a pod; many of them were ill, and one died. We watched the simple funeral with great interest, for the crew hoisted the dead animal by means of a crane, with a rope lashed round its horns, standing on the living beasts on each side to do it; but they had a good deal of difficulty in extracting the body from its pen, in which it was wedged sideways by two live neighbours, who stubbornly resented the whole affair. Finally, with a great deal of advice and swearing, the carcase was slung over the side, and it looked very weird sailing down the ship's wake in the sunset.

That was the only event of the voyage, till we sighted Luzon, the biggest and most northern of the Philippines, some time on Saturday afternoon--this is Monday, by-the-bye.

About seven o'clock, or earlier, our friends' launch came out for us, and in this little craft we steamed up the mouth of the Pasig, past rows and rows of steamers anchored at the quays, and hundreds of huge native barges covered over with round roofs of brown matting. I noticed numbers of brilliantly green cabbages floating down the stream, sitting on the water like lilies, with long brown roots trailing behind, and thought a cargo of vegetables had been wrecked, but was told these are water plants drifting down from inland bays up the river. They are the most extraordinary plants, of intensely crude and violent emerald, and make a marvellous dash of colour amongst the grey and brown shipping on the yellow, muddy water.

We landed at a big wharf, right in the town, and close to streets with shops, all looking strangely European after China and the Straits, the whole place reminding me more of the suburbs of Malaga or the port of Las Palmas than any other places I can think of. Here a carriage was waiting for us, and we drove all through the outskirts of the town, till we came out upon the bay again, and saw the open sea, where our friends' house is situated in a quarter called Ermita. All Manila is divided into quarters, or wards, with curious Spanish or Filipino names--Malate, Pasay, Intramuros, Binondo, etc., and many names of Saints.

The days get very hot here after eight o'clock, whether the sun happens to be shining or not, so I did not go out until the cool of the evening, and spent the day in the house, unpacking and resting, and trying to forget the smell of those cattle. Never again, I am sure, shall I linger with pleasure near the door of a byre!

We drove about the town, which all looks as if it had been put up in a hurry. There are no indications of antiquity outside Intramuros, the old Spanish Manila, founded in 1571, which stands, as its name signifies, within walls--crumbling grass-grown old walls, very high, and with a deep moat.

This Walled City, as the Americans called it, is the town the British took under General Draper in 1762, and these are the walls our ships bombarded at the same time, under Admiral Cornish, papa's great-uncle. When we were at home, it seemed strange that just before I came to the Philippines, I should inherit the lovely old emerald ring which the priestly Governor of Manila gave to the Admiral, when the former was a prisoner of war in the British Fleet, during the few days we held the Philippines, before we gave them back to Spain. But when I was actually under the walls they fought for, I looked at the old ring, and the coincidence seemed stranger still. I wished it were a magic emerald that I could rub it lightly, and summon some mysterious spirit which would tell me all the old ring had seen and heard. But now, Old Manila is only a backwash leading to nowhere, for the modern town has spread itself all up the banks of the Pasig River.

Our way did not lie through the Walled City, but along outside it, down a broad avenue, bordered by handsome trees, over a bridge across the Pasig, and into the town of shops and streets. The whole place looked dull, grey, ugly, and depressing, and after Hong Kong it seemed positively squalid. Big houses like the magnificent stone palaces of Hong Kong, would be impossible here on account of the frequent earthquakes, but such buildings as there are look mean and dilapidated, and the streets are badly paved or not at all, weeds grow everywhere; in fact, there is a sort of hopeless untidiness about the place that is positively disheartening, like going into a dirty and untidy house. I think a great deal of the hopelessness, too, consists in the air of the natives, who appear small and indolent after one's eye has become accustomed to the tall, fine figures of the busy Chinamen.

In the course of our drive we went to a certain bridge to see a religious procession, and as we got near the place where it was to pass, the streets were crowded with people, and there were triumphal arches scattered about, all looking quite pretty in the rosy-pink glow of the sun, which was just beginning to set. We pulled up in a mass of carriages and traps on one side of the bridge, and waited an hour or more for the procession, which was then about three hours overdue.

"Yes," he said, "you are in luck, for you can't imagine what a Manila hotel is like. And yet it is full of decent people. I wonder why they can't run a better one."

It does seem odd when one comes to think of it, because, though Manila is off the tourist track of the world, and there is no reason for any mere traveller to come here, still, people do come sometimes, and anyhow there are the Americans themselves, who want a shelter of some sort, and that nation has the reputation of being accomplished connoisseurs in the matter of hotels. One would imagine that a good hotel would be the first thing they would demand or establish, but they have been here six years now, and the Manila hotels are still a byword for unutterable filth and discomfort.

Well, about this procession, the occasion of which was the bringing down to Manila of a very sacred image, called the Virgin of Antipolo, from the town of Antipolo, which is inland, to deposit her in some church in Manila. She had been four hundred years in Antipolo, and was a very precious and much-battered relic, so her journey was a great event, and the procession had been travelling, by road and river, ever since before the dawn.

At last the long lines of people began to appear, crawling over the bridge in the last grey shadows. It proved to be a very dull affair, simply consisting of endless files of the faithful, carrying unlighted candles, with every now and then a band of music, and every now and then a group of paper lanterns carried on poles, or some gaudy banner, and all moving along to the accompaniment of a weird, unearthly chant. This kind of thing went on and on, and after an hour we got tired of it, and drove away without having seen the actual image, which was, we were told, a little, armless, wooden figure, dressed in a stiff tinsel robe, perched up on an immense high platform, decorated with lamps and flowers, and surrounded by priests chanting, and acolytes swinging censers.

I have only caught a passing glimpse of Manila, but I hope to be able to tell you more about it later on, as I have been invited to come back and pay a visit to our friends here in a month or two's time.

FROM MANILA TO ILOILO

I hear there will be a mail going out from Iloilo to-morrow, the day we arrive, so I will write you a letter to go by it, that you may not be disappointed--six weeks hence!

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