All the time I was there this family of the cook occupied that loft, and the two youngest ones squalled night and day, one or other, or both of them. There was not a single thing in that miserable hole for those naked children to lie on or to sit on. The screams or the wails of the wretched babies, the fighting of the rats under foot, the thud of the bullets at one's head, the constant fear of being burned out,—these things are not conducive to peaceful slumbers, but to frightful dreams, to nightmare, to hasty wakenings from uneasy sleep.

As soon as there is the slightest streak of dawn, the natives begin to work and clatter and chatter. No time is lost bathing or dressing. They wear to bed, or rather to floor or mat, the little that they have worn through the day, and rise and go to work next day without change of clothing. It never occurs to them to wash their hands except when they go to the well, once a day perhaps. While at the well they will pour water from a cocoanut shell held above the head and let it run down over the body, never using soap or towels. They rub their bodies sometimes with a stone. It does not matter which way you turn you see hundreds of natives at their toilet. One does not mind them more than the carabao in some muddy pond, and one is just about as cleanly as the other. They make little noise going to and fro, all being barefoot; but it was not long until I learned to know whether there were three, fifty, or one hundred passing by the swish of their bare feet.

The fathers seem to lavish more affection on the children than the mothers, and no wonder. Even President Roosevelt would be satisfied with the size of families that vary from fifteen to thirty. They do not seem to make any great ado if one or more die. Such little bits of humanity, such wasted corpses; it hardly seems that the shrunken form could ever have breathed, it looks so little and pinched and starved. There was a pair of twins, a boy and a girl, which were said to be twenty-five years old, that were the most hideous looking things I ever saw. They were two feet high, with huge heads out of all proportion to their bodies. They used to go about the streets begging and giving concerts to get money. I understand that they are now somewhere in America.

I became very much interested in a man with only one leg. I wanted to get him a wooden mate for it, but he said he didn't want it; that he could get around faster with one leg, and he certainly could take longer leaps than any two legged creature. Even when talking he never sat down. He had admirable control of his muscles. A little above the average height, his one leggedness made him seem over six feet.

It was out of the question to take the census of any town or province, because of the shifting population. It is nothing for a family to move many times in the course of the year; they can make thirty or forty miles a day. They have absolutely nothing to move unless it might be the family cooking "sow-sow" pot, which is hung over the shoulder on a string, or carried on top of the head. I used often to see a family straggling along with anywhere from ten to twenty children, seemingly all of a size, going to locate at some other place. One family came to Jaro the night before market day. They had about six dozen of eggs. I said I would buy all of them; the woman cried and said she was sorry, as she would have nothing to sell in the market place the next day. At night the whole family cuddled down in a corner of the stable and slept.

The native cook we employed proved to be a good one, and was willing to learn American ways of cooking. We did not know he had a family. One morning while attending to my duties there appeared a woman about five feet tall, with one shoulder about four inches higher than the other, one hip dislocated, one eye crossed, a harelip, which made the teeth part in the middle, mouth and lips stained blood red with betel juice, clothes—a rag or two. I screamed at her to run away, which she did instantly. I supposed she was some tramp who wanted to get a look at a white woman. She proved to be the wife of our cook, and after I had become accustomed to her dreadful looks, she became invaluable to me. Hardly anyone would have recognized her the day that she accompanied me to the dock. The little money that she had earned she had immediately put into an embroidered waist and long black satin train; and as I bade her good-bye she left an impression quite different from the first, and I am sure that the tears she shed were not of the crocodile kind.

The first native, Anastasio Alingas, whom we employed proved to be the very worst we could have found. He not only stole from us right before my eyes, but right before the eyes of our large household. He took the captain's pistol, holster, and ammunition. We could not have been more than five or ten feet from him at the time, for it was the rule then to have our fire-arms handy.

With an air of innocence, child-like and bland, he diverted suspicion to our laundry man and allowed him to be taken to prison. It was only after being arrested himself that he confessed and restored the revolver. He was allowed to go on the promise that he would never come any nearer than twenty miles to Jaro. He had been systematically lying and stealing. He used to come with tears streaming down his face and say that some man had stolen market money intrusted to him. He plundered the store-room, though it was hard to tell which stole the most, he or the wild monkeys that were about the house. He had pretended to be eager to learn, and had been so tractable that we were greatly disappointed to have him turn out such a bad boy. We found this true of every man that we tried, and most strongly true of the ones who pretended to be the best.

All the servants, all the natives, prized highly our tin cans from the commissary, as we emptied them. They used to come miles for them. Cocoanut shells and hollow bamboo stalks are the common vessels. A few old cans furnished a valuable ten cent store. The variety of uses to which these cans were turned was remarkable.

None of the so-called better class work at anything. They all carry huge bundles of keys at their side, and in most stentorian voice call out many times during the day "machacha" to a servant, who is to perform some very small service which her mistress could easily have done herself without any effort, and these lazy machachas saunter about in the most deliberate manner and do whatever they are asked to do in the most ungracious way. These so-called ladies beat their servants. I often interfered by pounding with a stick on the side of my window to attract their attention; that was all that was necessary. They were ashamed to have me see them. One time in particular, a woman took a big paddle, such as they use for pounding their clothes, and hit a small, sick looking creature again and again on the bare shoulders. What the offense was I do not know, but certainly the beating was such as I have never seen administered to anything.

The servants always walk about three feet behind the mistresses and carry their parcels, but they seldom walk, however, for they ride even when the distance is short. The grand dames affect a great deal of modesty and delicacy of feeling. On a certain occasion they sent word to the commanding general that it would be a serious shock to their feelings to have the execution of a criminal take place in the center of the town. The gallows were erected in the suburbs. Immediately all the natives were set to work to make hiding places where these sensitive ladies, unseen, could witness the execution. From early dawn until 9 A. M. carriages were carrying these delicate creatures to their secret stations. Not one of them in the whole village of Jaro but was on the watch. They supposed, of course, that I would be so interested that I would take a prominent part; that executions were common festivals in the United States.

The criminal himself had no idea that his sentence would be enforced, even up to the last moment he took it as a huge joke, and when he was taken to the general said he would like to be excused, and offered to implicate others who were more guilty than himself.

Many questions were asked me concerning our methods of execution, and great was the surprise when I confessed that I had never seen one myself, nor did I ever expect to see one; that my countrywomen would be horrified to witness such a sight; and that on the present occasion I had gone to the adjoining town six miles away to escape it all. I was shown several pictures of the victim taken by a Chinese artist.

A man buys at a booth one penny's worth of what is known as "sow-sow" for himself and family. I have often looked into the sow-sow pots, but was never able to make out what was contained therein. The children buy little rice cakes, thin, hard, and indigestible as bits of slate. The children's stomachs are abnormally large; due, perhaps, to the half-cooked rice and other poorly prepared food. When it comes to the choice of caring for the child or the fighting cock, the cock has the preference. The bird is carried as fondly and as carefully as if it were a superior creature. It was strange to see how they would carry these birds on their palms; nor did they attempt to fly away, but would sit there and crow contentedly.

We had at one time five or six carpenters to do some bamboo work. They brought their fighting cocks along with them for amusement when they were not at work, which was every moment our backs were turned. They are so used to being driven that it never occurs to them to go on with their work unless someone is overseeing them. They began by putting the bamboo at the top of the room and working down, braiding, plaiting and splitting, putting in a bit here and there in a very deft way without a nail. They did all the cutting sitting down on the floor and holding the smooth bamboo pieces with their feet, while they sawed the various lengths with a bolo.

When they had completed the partition, I said to the foreman, "How much for the day's work for all." The head man very politely informed me that he did not propose to pay these other men anything; if I wanted to pay them all right, but he would not. The defrauded ones got down on their knees to beg for their pay. I called in a priest who could talk some English, and explained the situation to him. He told me frankly that I would have to pay these other men just the same, notwithstanding that I had paid the foreman the full amount. He said I had better do it, because if I did not the men would bring vengeance upon me. They have no idea of justice or honor. What is true of business is true of every act of theirs, as far as I know.

An American woman told me that her husband could not attend to his military duties because he had to watch the nine natives who came to his house to do work. He had to keep account of their irregular comings and goings, to examine each one that he did not steal, to investigate his work that it was not half done. Men and women are alike—they must be watched every moment, because they have been so long watched and driven. If women who are hired and paid by the month break or destroy the least thing, its value is taken out of their wages and they are beaten. It was very astonishing to me to see, notwithstanding this serfdom, that they remain submissive to the same masters and mistresses.

A man was condemned to die by one of the secret societies. His most faithful servant, a member of the order, was chosen to execute the sentence. He calmly met his master at the door, made a thrust at him and wounded him slightly, struck again, and again; the third blow was fatal. The servant was never punished for the crime. It happened just a few doors from where I was living. There was a large funeral procession and a huge black cross was placed at the door, and that ended the matter, so far as I know. They place little value upon life; they seem to think death is but the gate to great happiness, no matter what its manner may be. I used to see many persons, men and women, with crosses on their throats and bodies. I asked ever so many what it meant, but was never able to find out. It was never seen upon the so-called better class. Much that I learned of the various tribes and various castes was told me by a converted Filipino, Rev. Manakin. He expected any time to be placed under the ban of the secret societies and killed.



WOOINGS AND WEDDINGS.

CHAPTER TEN.

The manner of wooing is rather peculiar. The man who wishes to pay his addresses to a woman gets the consent of her father and mother. He is received by the entire family when he calls, but is never allowed, in any way, to show her any special favor or attention; he must devote himself to the entire family. If he wishes to take her to a theatre, or concert, or dance, he must take the entire family. For about a week before the marriage the bride elect is carried about in a sort of wicker bamboo hammock borne on the shoulders of two young men and she goes about paying visits to her intimate friends; she is not allowed to put foot to the ground or do any sort of menial labor.

Mothers brought their young daughters to me daily to importune me to choose a sweetheart for my son or for any other officer who happened to be at our headquarters. I know that one young officer was offered $100,000 to marry the daughter of one of the richest men in the town of Molo, and it was a great wonder to the father that the young man could refuse so brilliant a match socially, to say nothing of it financially. There happened to be a young Englishman in the regular service whose time expired while he was at Jaro. He had been cook and valet for an officer's mess and was really a very fine fellow. He was immediately chosen by a wealthy Filipino to marry his daughter. The young man not only got a wife but a very handsome plantation of sugar and rice; perhaps not the only foreign husband secured by a good dowry.

The trousseau of a rich Filipino girl consists of dozens and dozens of rich dresses; no other article is of interest. They do not need the lingerie. Among the common people it is simply an arrangement between the mother and the groom or it can all be arranged with the priest. I have seen as many as fifteen young girls sitting in the market place while their mothers told of their various good qualities. Marriage is not a question of affection, seemingly. The only thing necessary is money enough to pay the priest. Very often all rites are set aside; the man chooses his companion, the two live together and probably rear a large family.

I was told that there are two sets of commandments in use—one for the rich, the other for the poor.

I was glad to accept the kind invitation of a rich and influential family to their daughter's wedding. At the proper hour, I presented myself at the church door and was politely escorted to a seat. There was music. The natives came dressed in their best, and squatted upon the floor of the cathedral. After a long time the bride elect sauntered in with three or four of her attendants not especially attired, nor did they march in to music but visited along the way as they came straggling in. Soon the groom shuffled in, I say shuffled because they have so recently begun to wear shoes. The bridal group gathered before the altar and listened to the ritual. Finally the groom took the bride's hand for one brief moment. A few more words by the priest and the ceremony was ended. To my surprise the bride came up and greeted me. I did not understand what I was expected to do but I shook hands and said I hoped she would be very happy. The groom now came up and bowing low presented his "felicitations." I returned the bow but could not muster a word. The women straggled out on one side of the cathedral and the men on the other. This was considered a first class "matrimony." There was a very large reception at the house with a grand ball in the evening; indeed, there were two or three days of festivities.

In contrast to this was the wholesale matrimonial bureau which was conducted every Saturday morning. I have seen as many as ten couples married all at once. I never knew which man was married to which woman, as the men stood grouped on one side of the priest and the women on the other. I asked one groom, "Which is your wife?" He scanned the crowd of brides a moment then said comfortably, "Oh, she is around somewhere."

I used to go to the cathedral on Saturdays to see the various ceremonies. The most interesting of all the cheap baptisms at which all the little babies born during the week were baptized for ten cents. These pitiable little creatures, deformed and shrunken, were too weak to wail, or, perhaps they were too stupified with narcotics. A large candle was put into each little bird-claw, the nurse or mother holding it in place above the passive body covered only with a scrap of gauze but decked out with paper flowers, huge pieces of jewelry, odd trinkets, anything they had—all dirty, mother, child, ornaments; the onlookers still more dirty. The priest whom I knew very well, since he lived just across the way, told me that few of these cheap babies live long. I am sure they could not; not one of them would weigh five pounds. They were all emaciated; death would be a mercy. There was a little fellow next door to whom I was very much attached. The dear little naked child would stay with me by the day if I would have him; he was four years old but no larger than an American baby of four months. I used to long for a rocking chair that I might sing him to sleep but he had no idea of sleeping when he was with me. His great brown eyes would look into my face with an intensity of love; he would gaze at me till I feared that he was something uncanny. If I gave him a lump of sugar, he would hold it reverently a long time before he would presume to eat it. Every day he and other little devoted natives would bring me bouquets of flowers, stuck on the spikes of a palm or on tooth picks. No well regulated house but has bundles of tooth picks arranged in fancy shapes such as fans and flowers. All their sideboards and tables have huge bouquets of these wonderfully wrought and gayly ornamental tooth picks.

They carve with skill; out of a bit of wood or bamboo they will whittle a book, so pretty as to be worth four or five dollars.

One day I made a woman understand by signs that I should like to weave; she nodded approval and in a little while a loom was brought to the house; we went over to the market, purchased our fiber and began. I found it a difficult task, as I had to sit in a cramped position; and the slippery treadles of round bamboo polished by use were hard to manage. I did better without shoes. The weaving was a diversion; it occupied my time when the soldiers were out of the quarters. I will not deny that yards of the fabric were watered with my tears. There was dangerous and exhausting work for our troops; and there were bad reports that many were mutilated and killed.



MY FIRST FOURTH IN THE PHILIPPINES.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

I can not tell what joy it was to me to see my son and the members of the troop come riding into town alive and well after a hard campaign. They looked as if they had seen service, and what huge appetites they brought with them. On the third of July, 1900, I heard that the boys were coming back on the Fourth. Learning that there was nothing for their next day's rations I decided to prepare a good old-fashioned dinner myself. All night long I baked and boiled and prepared that meal; eighty-three pumpkin pies, fifty-two chickens, three hams, forty cakes, ginger-bread, 'lasses candy, pickles, cheese, coffee, and cigars. Having purchased from a Chinese some fire crackers—as soon as there was a streak of dawn—I went to my window and lighted those crackers. It was such a surprise to the entire town; they came to see what could be the matter, as no firing was permitted in the city. We began our first Fourth in true American style, as the "Old Glory" was being raised we sang "Star Spangled Banner." Many joined in the chorus and in the Hip! Hip! Hurrah! I keep in a small frame the grateful acknowledgment of the entire Company that was given to me from the Gordon Scouts:

Jaro, Panay, P. I., July 4th, 1900. To Mrs. A. L. Conger:

We, the undersigned, members of Gordon's Detachment, of Mounted Eighteenth Infantry Scouts, desire, in behalf of the entire troop, to express our thanks for and appreciation of the excellent dinner prepared and furnished us by Mrs. A. L. Conger, July 4th, 1900. It was especially acceptable coming as it did immediately after return from arduous field service against Filipino insurrectos and, being prepared and tendered us by one of our own brave and kind American women, it was doubly so.

It is the earnest wish of the detachment that Mrs. Conger may never know less pleasure than was afforded us by such a noble example of patriotic American womanhood.

Respectfully,

[Signed]

I prepared other dinners at various times, but this first spread was to them and to myself a very great pleasure.

Letters from home were full of surprise that we still stayed though the war was over—the newspapers said it was. For us the anxiety and struggle still went on. To be sure there were no pitched battles but the skirmishing was constant; new outbreaks of violence and cruelty were daily occurring, entailing upon our men harassing watch and chase. The insurrectos were butchers to their own people. Captain N. told me that he hired seven native men to do some work around the barracks up in the country and paid them in American money, good generous wages. They carried the money to their leader who was so indignant that they had worked for the Americans that he ordered them to dig their graves and, with his own hands, cut, mutilated, and killed six of them. The seventh survived. Bleeding and almost lifeless, he crawled back to the American quarters and told his story. The captain took a guide and a detail, found the place described, exhumed the bodies and verified every detail of the inhuman deed.

They committed many bloody deeds, then swiftly drew back to the swamps and thickets impenetrable to our men. The very day, the hour, that the Peace Commissioner, Governor Taft, Judge Wright and others to the number of thirty were enjoying an elegantly prepared repast at Jaro there was, within six miles, a spirited conflict going on, our boys trying to capture the most blood-thirsty villains of the islands. This gang had hitherto escaped by keeping near the shore and the impenetrable swamps of the manglares. No foot but a Filipino's can tread these jungles. When driven into the very closest quarters, they take to their boats, and slip away to some nearby island.

I hope that my son and his men will pardon me for telling that they rushed into some fortifications that they saw on one of their perilous marches and with a sudden fusillade captured the stronghold. The Filipinos had a company of cavalry, one of infantry, one of bolo men, and reserves. The insurrecto captain told me himself that he never was so surprised, mortified, and grieved that such a thing could have been done. They thought there was a large army back of this handful of men, eleven in all. General R. P. Hughes sent the following telegram to my son, and his brave scouts: "To Lieutenant Conger, June 14, 1900, Iloilo. I congratulate you and your scouts on your great success. No action of equal dash and gallantry has come under my notice in the Philippines." (Signed) R. P. Hughes.

All this time there were negotiations going on to secure surrender and the oath of allegiance. Those who vowed submission did not consider it at all binding.

General Del Gardo surrendered with protestations of loyalty and has honored his word ever since; he is now Governor of the Island of Panay (pan-i). He is very gentlemanly in appearance and bearing and has assumed the duties of his new office with much dignity. Just recently I learn, to my surprise, that he does not recognize the authority of the "Presidente" of the town of Oton, who was appointed before the surrender of General Del Gardo, and that therefore the very fine flag raising we had on the Fourth of July, 1900, is not considered legal. We had a famous day of it at the time. All the soldiers who could be spared marched to Oton. There was a company of artillery, some cavalry, and the scouts. From other islands, Americans and our sick soldiers were brought by steamer as near as possible and then landed in small boats. We were somewhat delayed in arriving but were greeted in a most friendly manner by the whole town. We were escorted up to the house of the Presidente and were immediately served with refreshments that were most lavish in quantity, color, shape and kind; too numerous in variety to taste, and too impossible of taste to partake. After the parade, came the running up of the flag, made by the women of the town. The shouting and the cheering vied with the band playing "America," "Hail Columbia," and the "Star Spangled Banner." It was indeed an American day celebrated in loyal fashion—certainly by the Americans. It was the very first flag raising in the Islands by the Filipinos themselves. It is with regret that I hear that General Del Gardo has refused officially to recognize this historic occasion. After these ceremonies we had the banquet. I do not recall any dish that was at all like our food except small quail, the size of our robins. Where and how they captured all the birds that were served to that immense crowd and how they ever prepared the innumerable kinds of refreshments no one will ever know but themselves. We were all objects of curiosity. The natives for miles around flocked in to gaze upon the Americans. At this place there is one of the finest cathedrals on the Island of Panay, large enough for a whole regiment of soldiers to quarter in, as once happened during a very severe storm. The reredos was especially fine. It was in the center of the cathedral and was almost wholly constructed of hammered silver of very intricate pattern and design. Nave, choir, and transepts were ornamented with exquisite carving in stone and wood.



FLOWERS, FRUITS AND BERRIES.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Fruits are of many varieties; the most luscious are the mangoes. There is only one crop a year; the season lasts from April to July. It is a long, kidney-shaped fruit. It seems to me most delicious, but some do not like it at all. The flavor has the richness and sweetness of every fruit that one can think of. They disagree with some persons and give rise to a heat rash. For their sweet sake, I took chances and ended by making a business of eating and taking the consequences. The mango tree has fine green satin leaves; the fruit is not allowed to ripen on the tree. The natives pick mangoes as we pick choice pears and let them ripen before eating. They handle them just as carefully, and place them in baskets that hold just one layer. The best mangoes are sometimes fifty cents a piece. The fruit that stands next in favor is the chico. It looks not unlike a russet apple on the outside, but the inside has, when ripe, a brown meat and four or five black seeds quite like watermelon seeds. It is rich and can be eaten with impunity.

The banana grows everywhere, and its varieties are as numerous as those of our apple; its colors, its sizes, manifold. Some about the size of one's finger are deliciously sweet and juicy. They grow seemingly without any cultivation whatever, by the road as freely as in the gardens. Guavas are plentiful, oranges abundant but poor in quality. The pomelo is like our "grape fruit," but larger, less bitter and less juicy. Cut into squares or sections and served with a sauce of white of egg and sugar beaten together it is a delicious dish.

There are no strawberries or raspberries, but many kinds of small fruits, none of which I considered at all palatable, although some of them looked delicious hanging upon the trees or bushes. There is a small green kind of cherry full of tiny seeds that the natives prize and enjoy. The fruits of one island are common to all.

The flora of the country was not seen at its best; many of the natives told me. Trees, shrubs, gardens and plantations had been trampled by both armies and left to perish. Our government took up the work of restoration as soon as possible. The few roses that I saw were not of a particularly good quality, nor did they have any fragrance. No one can ever know what joy thrilled me when one day I found some old fashioned four o'clocks growing in the church yard. The natives do not care to use the natural flowers in the graceful sprays or luxuriant clusters in which they grow. They usually stick them on the sharp spikes of some small palm or wind them on a little stick to make a cone or set the spikelets side by side in a flat block. They much prefer artificial stiffness to natural grace. In the hundreds of funeral ceremonies that I saw I never noticed the use of a single natural blossom. The flowers were all artificial, of silk, paper, or tissue. One reason, perhaps, of this choice is that all vegetation is infested with ants; they can scarcely be seen, but, oh, they can be felt! The first time I was out driving I begged the guard to gather me huge bunches of most exquisite blooms but I was soon eager to throw them all out; the ants swarmed upon me and drove me nearly frantic. I learned to shun my own garden paths and to content myself with looking out of the window on the plants below. There are many birds but no songsters.

The betel nut is about the size of a walnut. The kernel is white like the cocoanut. They wrap a bit of this kernel with a pinch of air-slacked lime in a pepper leaf, then chew, chew, all day, and in intervals of chewing they spray the vividly colored saliva on door-step, pavement and church floor.

I often watched the natives climb the tall cocoanut trees, about eighty feet high, with only the fine fern-like leaves at the extreme top. These trees yield twenty to fifty cocoanuts per month and live to a great age. No one can have any idea of the delicious milk until he has drunk it fresh from the recently gathered nuts. A young native will climb as nimbly and as swiftly as a monkey, and will be as unfettered by dress as his Darwinian brother. The fruit is severed from the tree by the useful bolo.

The flowers in the parks when I saw them had all been trampled into the mud by the soldiers of both armies, but I was told that they had been very beautiful. There were also large trees, bearing huge clusters of blooms; one bunch had seventy-five blossoms, each as large as a fair sized nasturtium. These are called Fire or Fever Trees, since they have the appearance of being on fire and bloom in the hot season when fever is most prevalent. Other trees whose name I do not recall bear equally large clusters of purple flowers. The palms are large and grow in great luxuriance, and the double hibiscus look like large pinks.



THE MARKETS.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

The market day is the great day of every town. A certain part of every village is prepared with booths and stalls to display wares of endless variety. We all looked forward to market day. There were mats of various sizes,—mats are used for everything. There are some so skillfully woven that they are handsome ornaments, worth as much as a good rug. There were hats woven out of the most delicately shredded fibers, the best costing from twelve to twenty dollars in gold, very durable and very beautiful. The best ones can be woven only in a damp place, as the fiber must be kept moist while being handled. There were fish nets of abaka differing in mesh to suit the various kinds of fish. The cloths were hung on lines to show their texture. We had to pick our way amongst the stalls and through or over the natives seated on the ground. I have seen a space of two acres covered with hundreds of natives, carabao, trotting bulls, chickens, turkeys, ducks, fine goods, vegetables, and fruits all in one mass; and I had to keep a good lookout where I stepped and what I ran into. It was not necessary to go often for they were more than willing to bring all their wares to the house if they had any prospects of a sale. I have had as many as thirty natives troop into the house at one time. They finally became so obnoxious that I forbade them coming at all.

The silence of these crowds was noticeable. They were keenly alive to business and did not laugh and joke or even talk in reasonable measure. As a race they are solemn even in their looks, and no wonder, such is their degradation, misery, and despair. They have so little sympathy and care for each other, so little comfort, and so neglected and hopeless, so sunken beneath the so-called better class that when a little mission gospel was started one could hardly refrain from tears to see the joy that they had in accepting the free gospel. It was no trouble for them to walk thirty or forty miles to get what they called cheap religion. They were outcasts from society and too poor to pay the tithes that were imposed upon them by the priests in their various parishes, for no matter how small a village was there was the very elegant cathedral in the center of the town which only the rich and those who were able to pay were entitled to enter.

The poor blind people wandered from village to village in groups of two to twenty. Quite a number of the moderately insane would go about begging, too, but the worst were chained to trees or put in stocks and their food thrown at them. Even the dumb brutes were not so poorly cared for.

The houses of the rich, while not cleanly and not well furnished, always have one large room in which stands a ring of chairs with a rug in the center of the floor and a cuspidor by each seat. You are ushered in and seated in one of these low square chairs, usually cane seated. After the courtesies of the day and the hostess's comments on the fineness of your clothing, refreshments are brought in,—cigars, cigarettes, wine, cake, and preserved cocoanut. Sometimes American beer is added as possibly more acceptable than the wine.

The citizens of Jaro seemed to be friendly, they often invited me to their festivities; committees would wait upon me, presenting me sometimes invitations engraved upon silver with every appearance of cordiality in expression and manner. They could not understand why I would not accept; I would explain, that first, I had no desire; second, I thought it poor policy to do so when our soldiers were obliged to fight their soldiers, and they were furnishing the money to carry on the warfare; then too, most of their balls were given on Sunday night. True, a Filipino Sunday never seemed Sunday to me. I could only say, foolishly enough, "But it is not Sunday at home." I could not attend their parties and I had little heart to dance. I had only to go to the window to see their various functions; it could hardly be called merry as they went at it in such a listless, lazy way, with apparently little enjoyment, the air that they carry into all their pleasures.



PHILIPPINE AGRICULTURE.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

It has been said that the prosperity of any nation depends largely upon its agriculture. The soil in the Philippines is very rich. The chief product, which the natives spend the most time upon, is rice; and even that is grown, one almost might say, without any care, especially after seeing the way the Japanese till their rice. They sow the rice broadcast in little square places of about half an acre which is partly filled with water. When this has grown eight or ten inches high they transplant it into other patches which have been previously scratched over with a rude one-handled plow that often has for a point only a piece of an old tin can or a straggly root, and into this prepared bit of land they open the dyke and let in the water; that is all that is necessary until the harvesting. They have a great pest, the langousta or grasshopper, and they are obliged, when these insects fly over a section of the country, to scare them away by any means in their power, which is usually by running about through the rice fields waving a red rag.

As I have said before they gather these pests and eat them. I have seen bushels of fried langousta for sale in the markets. When they gather the rice harvest, it is carried to some nearby store room, usually in the lower part of the house in which they live. Then comes the threshing, which is done with old-fashioned mills, by pounding with a wooden mallet, or by rubbing between two large pieces of wood. Then they winnow it, holding it up by the peck or half bushel to let the wind blow the hulls off, and dry it by placing it on mats of woven bamboo. I saw tons of rice prepared in this way by the side of the road near where I lived. This being their staple, the food for man and beast, one can form some idea of the vast quantities that are needed. There was a famine while I was there and the U. S. government was obliged to supply the natives with rice for seed and food.

There is no grass grown except a sort of swamp grass. The rice cut when it is green is used in the place of grass. It is never dried, as it grows the year round. One can look out any day and see rows of small bundles of this rice paddy laid by the road side for sale or carried by the natives on bamboo poles, a bundle before and one behind to balance. It was astonishing to see these small men and boys struggling under the weight of their "loads of hay." None of the American horses cared for it; their hay and grain had to be stacked up along the wharf and guarded. It would be of little use, however, to the natives as they know nothing about the use of our products.

If there was any wheat grown in the islands, we never heard of it, and judging from the way in which flour was sold in their markets at ten cents for a small cornucopia that would hold about a gill, it was probably brought from either Australia or America.

They have a camote, something like a sweet potato. Although it is watery and stringy it does very well and is called a good vegetable. They raise inferior tomatoes and very inferior garlic. It was a matter of great curiosity to the natives to see an American plow that was placed on exhibition at the British store. I am sure when they can take some of our good agricultural implements and turn the rich soil over and work it, even in a poor way, the results will be beyond anything we could produce here in the United States.

Their cane sugar is of fine quality, almost equal to our maple sugar. They plant the seed in a careless way and tend it in the most slovenly manner imaginable, and yet, they get immense crops. One man, who put in a crop near where some soldiers were encamped in order to have their protection, told us that he sold the product from this small stretch of ground of not more than five or six acres for ten thousand dollars.

The natives so disliked to work that nearly every one who employed men kept for them a gaming table and the inevitable fighting cocks; as long as they can earn a little money to gamble that is all they care for; houses, lands, and families are not considered. Nearly all the sugar mills had been burned in our neighborhood, but I know from the way they do everything else that they must have used the very crudest kind of boiling apparatus. The sugar seemed reasonably clean to look at, but when boiled the sediment was anything but clean. With our evaporating machines and with care to get the most out of the crop, the profit will be enormous. Often we would buy the cane in the markets, peel off the outside and chew the pith to get the sweet juice.

They raise vast quantities of cocoa, as indifferently cared for as everything else, also a small flat bean, but it has a bitter taste.

The largest crop of all is the hemp crop which grows, seemingly, without any cultivation. This hemp when growing looks something like the banana tree. They cut it down and divide it into lengths as long as possible and then prepare the wood or fiber by shaving it on iron teeth.

They are expert in this industry, in making it fine and in tying it, often times, in lengths of not more than two or three inches. They give a very dextrous turn of the hand and the finest of these threads are used in some of the fabrics which they weave. I often wondered how they could prepare these delicate, strong, linen-like threads that are as fine as gossamer.

A man who had cotton mills in Massachusetts visited places where the hemp is prepared and the looms where it is woven. He said he had never known anything so wonderful as the deft manner in which these people worked out the little skeins from an intricate mass of tangled webs.

One of the curiosities of the world's fair at St. Louis will be this tying and weaving of hemp. Then a still greater curiosity will be the making of pine-apple fiber. This manufacture has been sadly neglected and crippled by the war and its devastations. They have learned to mix in other fibers because of the scarcity of the pine-apple. I did not see this prepared at all; only secured with difficulty some of the good cloth. It is considered by the natives their very best and finest fabric. They spend much time on its embroidery and their exquisite work astonishes the finest lace makers.

The field corn which I saw was of such an inferior grade that it never occurred to me to try it; indeed, they do not bring it to market until it is out of the milk.

On my return home I planted a few kernels as an experiment. There never was a more insignificant looking stalk of corn in our garden. With misgivings we made trial of the scrubby looking ears. To our surprise it was the best we ever had on our table. It seemed too good to be true. I gave several messes to my friends and this year am hoping to give pleasure to many others. I denied myself the delicious product that many might have seed for this spring.



MINERALS.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Gold is found in every stream of the islands. In small bottles I saw many little nuggets which the natives had picked up. Whether it would pay to use good machinery to extract he gold I cannot tell; but certain it is that they use a great deal of gold in the curiously wrought articles of jewelry of which they are all passionately fond.

A man who was greatly interested in the mines of Klondike said that there were better chances of getting gold in the Philippines and that he had given up all his northern claims and was now using his energies to secure leases in the new territory. Other minerals, too, he said, are abundant and valuable.

I had a small brass dagger which I used to carry for defense and, upon showing it to some of my friends, since my return, I was asked if I saw this dagger made, because if I knew the secret of its annealing it would be worth a fortune to me.

I had missed a golden chance for I had often visited a rude foundry where they made bolos and other articles, but it did not occur to me that there could be anything of value to expert workmen at home in these crude hand processes.

The soldiers that accompanied me, as well as I myself, went into convulsions of laughter over the shape of their bellows and the working of their forge. Everything they do seemed to us to be done in the most awkward manner; it is done backward if possible. The first time I saw a carriage hitched before the animal I wondered how they could ever manage it.

Bolos are of all sizes and shapes and are made of steel or iron to suit the fancy of the person. Some are of the size and pattern of an old-fashioned corn cutter, handles of carved wood or carabao horn; sometimes made with a fork-like tip and waved with saw teeth edge. It is an indispensable tool in war and peace. There were none so poor as not to have a bolo. They made cannon, too, and guns patterned after our American ones. And sometimes cannon were made out of bamboo, bound around with bands of iron. These were formidable and could shoot with as much noise as a brass one, if not with as much accuracy.

They must get a great deal of silver, as they have so many silver articles; they insert bits of silver in the handles of bolos. These bolos are used for everything. One day I found that the little tin oven which I brought from home was all worn out on the inside. I was in despair for there was no way of getting it repaired, My native cook watched me as I looked at it sorrowfully. Without saying a word he went to work and with only a bolo took my old tin coal oil can and constructed a lining with the metal cleats to hold the shelves up. The only thing he had in the way of a tool to work with was his bolo, about two feet long. When I hired him I noticed that he had great long finger nails; I told him that he would have to cut them off. He said, "Why I don't too. I wouldn't have anything to scratch myself with." But, upon my insisting, he took his huge bolo, placed his fingers on a block of wood, and severed his useful finger nails. They use these bolos for cutting grass, cutting meat,—they use them for haggling our soldiers, as we learned to our grief and wrath.

There are vast quantities of coal, but the mines so far have been but little developed. The coal is so full of sulphur that its quality is spoiled. There are possibilities of finding it in good paying quantities on several of the islands. It makes a quick blaze and soon burns out. The natives sell it in tiny chunks, by the handful, or in little woven baskets that hold just about a quart.



ANIMALS.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

The animal that is most essential in every way is the carabao or water buffalo. They are expensive, a good one costing two or three hundred dollars. Their number has been very much diminished by the rinder-pest. The precious carabao is carefully guarded; at night it is kept in the lower part of the house or in a little pond close by.

The picture shown opposite is a good representation of the better class of fairly well-to-do Filipino people; they are rich if they can afford as many carabao as stand here. The second picture shows the way they are driven. Their skins are used for everything that good strong leather can be used for. Their meat is good for food; but heaven help anybody who is obliged to eat it, and when it is prepared, as it often is, by drying the steaks in the sun, then the toughness exceeds that of the tanned hide. A sausage mill could not chew dried carabao. The milk is watery and poor, but the natives like it very much. The horns are used for handles for bolos, the hoofs for glue, and the bones are turned into carved articles of many kinds. The little calves that go wandering about by the sides of their mothers are so curious and so top heavy, and yet they are strong even when small. Carabao sometimes go crazy, and when they do, they tread down everything in their way. Notwithstanding their ungainly bulk they can run as well as a good horse, and can endure long journeys quite as well. They are urged to greater speed by the driver taking the tail and giving it a twist or kicking them in the flank.

I used to spend most of my time threatening my driver that he would have to go to a calaboose if he did not stop abusing the animal. The horses are only caricatures. They are so small, so poorly kept, and so badly driven that one burns with indignation at the sight of them. There is no bit and the bridle is always bad. The nose piece is fitted tight and has on the under side a bit of horny fish skin, its spikes turned towards the flesh. These are jerked into the flesh of the poor horse until, in its frenzy, it dashes madly from one side of the road to the other.

Cows are of little use. They look fair but they give little milk. Goats are next in importance, and are delightful to watch. The kids, in pairs and triplets, are such pretty little creatures, so perfectly formed, that I could scarcely resist the desire to bring a few home.

The dogs are the worst looking creatures imaginable. They are so maimed that they are pests rather than pets; but there are thousands of them. There was one exception, a dog that was brought to me one day from a burning house, the like of which I had never seen before. It was called an Andalusian poodle. It proved to be not only the handsomest but the best little dog I ever had. Being a lover of dogs, I regretted very much to give him up upon my return.



AMUSEMENTS AND STREET PARADES.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

As a drowning man catches at a straw, so was I eager for anything that would give even slight relief from consuming anxieties and pressing hardships. The natives responded quickly to the slightest encouragement; small change drew groups of two to fifty to give me "special performances." There were blind fiddlers who would play snatches of operas picked up "by ear" on the rudest kind of a fiddle made out of hollow bamboo with only one string; it was astonishing how much music they could draw from the rude instrument. The bow was a piece of bent bamboo with shredded abaka for the bow-strings. Flutes were made of bamboo stalks; drums out of carabao hide stretched over a cylindrical piece of bamboo. Some of these strolling bands came many miles to my door, and while none of them ever produced correct music, still they were a great diversion.

There were strolling players, too. The first performance was the most interesting that I have ever seen. The players arranged themselves within a square roughly drawn in the middle of the road; then to the strains of a bamboo fiddle, bamboo flute, bamboo drum, the melodrama was begun. The hero pranced into the open square to the tune of a minor dirge, not knowing a single sentence of his part; the prompter, kneeling down before a flaring candle, told him what to say; he repeated in parrot-like fashion, and then pranced off the square to slow dirge-like music. Now the heroine minced in from the opposite corner to slow music with her satin train sweeping in the dust; though carefully raised when she crossed the sacred precincts of the square, and in a sauntering way, with one arm akimbo and the other holding the fan up in the air, she took the opposite corner and the prompter told her what to say. In the meantime the candle blew out; it was relighted; the prompter found his place and signaled to the hero to come on. From the opposite side again, with a bow and hand on heart, the lover repeated after the prompter his addresses to the waiting maiden. She pretended to be surprised and shocked at his addresses, fainted away and was carried off the stage by two women attendants; the lover with folded arms looked calmly at the sad havoc he had wrought. Now a rival suitor sprang into the ring and with a huge bolo attacked number one and killed him. The heroine was now able to return. She did not fall into the arms of number two. She only listened placidly to the demand of how much she would pay to secure so splendid a man as the one that could bolo his rival. The parents finally entered and settled the difficulty. The play closed with the prospect of a happy union. The company dispersed, the women and girls walking on one side of the road with the torches in their hands, and the men on the other, in two solemn files. There was no chattering or laughing; yet they all felt that they had had a most delightful performance.

Two or three concerts given at a neighboring town were very creditable, but only the better class attended; nine-tenths of the people resort to these crude, wayside performances. They look on with seeming indifference; there is never a sign of approval, much less an outburst of applause. They seem to have no place in their souls for the ludicrous, the comic, or the joyous. They were shocked by my smiles and peals of laughter. They have a strange preference for the minor key in music, for the dirge. No wonder when our bands would play lively music that they were quite ready to take up the catchy airs, but they would add a mournful cadence to the most stirring of our American airs. After awhile I found that the music oftenest rendered by the cathedral organ was the Aguinaldo March. I took the liberty to inform the commanding officer and that tune was stopped. After the surrender, to my great surprise and joy, the same organ rolled out "America"; it did thrill me, even if it was played on a Filipino instrument and by a Filipino.

Little boys often came with tiny birds which they had trained to do little tricks. One had snakes which he would twist around his bare body. And never was there a day without a cock fight. Sometimes the birds were held in check by strings attached to them, but it was a common occurrence to see groups of natives watching their birds fight to the finish at any time of day, Sundays not excepted. And they will all bet on the issue if it takes the last cent they have. They do not seem to enjoy it in a hilarious manner at all. It is serious business, without comment or jovial look or act. No one is so busy that he can not stop for a cock fight.

There are many kinds of monkeys on the islands. It is common to domesticate them, to train them to do their master's bidding; they become a part of the family, half plaything, half servant. Parrots, too, are adopted into the household and learn to speak its dialect; they are almost uncanny in their chatter and they, too, do all kinds of tricks at the bidding.

I was daily importuned to buy monkeys, parrots, cocks, or song birds. I took a tiny bird that was never known to so much as chirp, but he grew fond of me, would perch upon my shoulder or would turn his little head right or left as if to ask if I were pleased with his silent attentions. The last morning of my stay in Jaro I went to the window and set him free but he immediately came back and clung to my hand. I took him to Iloilo and left him with the nurses; he lived only a day.



FESTIVALS OF THE CHURCH.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

According to the Spanish calendar in my possession, there is a festival for every day in the year. There are services every morning at seven, every evening at five; often there are special grand festivals. The Jaro church has a wax figure of the Savior and this figure is dressed for various festivals in various ways; sometimes in evening dress, with white shirt, diamond stud, rings on the fingers, patent leather shoes, and a derby hat. This figure was placed on a large platform and either carried on the shoulders of men or put on a wagon and drawn by men. Once I saw the cart pushed along by a bull at the rear. This procession would form at the Cathedral door, march around the square and then usually go three or four blocks down toward the house where the priest lived, and by that time it would be very nearly dark and they would light their candles and return and go about the square again before going into the Cathedral.

Sometimes the figure was dressed in royal robes with long purple mantle and gilded crown upon the head; on Good Friday it lay in a white shroud as if in death; on Easter day it was arrayed in flowing white robes and was brought from the cemetery into town and borne at the head of a great parade. Those who could afford to do so would set up a special shrine in front of their homes, adorned with flowers and household images. The priest would, as a special favor, have special services before these shrines, and the more money spent on these shrines and the more paid to the priest the more distinguished the citizen. For days before the natives were busy making long candles out of carabao tallow. Some of these candles, huge and crude, would weigh four or five pounds. None of the so-called common people or the poor class would take part in any of these wonderful parades unless they were able to wear good clothes and have long trains to their dresses. I never saw any one in these processions who was at all poor; the poor simply stand by the roadside and look on. I asked my Filipino woman why she did not join; she said she would just as soon as she could get a dress with a train. It was not many weeks before she was in the procession, having earned the train by laundry work for the officers and soldiers. For the men, it was their joy to be able to purchase a derby hat. I never knew there could be so many kinds of derbies as I saw on the heads of these natives. It was said that a ship-load of them was brought over once, and they so charmed the male population that from that time on they all aspired to own a derby, no matter how ancient its appearance or of what color it might be. And no matter if they did not have a shirt to their back, if they had on a good stiff derby hat, they were dressed for any occasion and to appear before anybody.

The priests wear, first, a long, plain white robe, over this a black cassock, then a white cotta; and the more richly it is embroidered the better they like it. There was with this white cotta a white petticoat plain at the top and ruffled at the bottom. I did not know the names of the outer vestments but they were all embroidered. I offered to buy one of the heavily embroidered vestments from a priest but he refused, saying that it was very hard to get that kind of cloth embroidered so beautifully. He gave me one of the Filipino skirts; it was badly worn, but I kept it as a curiosity. Not knowing very much about the Roman church, there were a great many things done every day that I could not understand; for instance, when a priest went out in a closed carriage attended by two or three boys he would come from the church door with one of the boys in front of him ringing a bell vigorously. He would ring this bell just as hard as he could until the priest would get inside with his attendants and then they would drive away. When they returned they would go through this same performance of ringing this bell until they got inside of the church. I saw this many times and once asked a Roman Catholic soldier what it meant; he said he did not know.

It may be that these people need to be terrorized by the priests; certain it is that, when a priest walks through the village or when any of the people see him, they kneel and kiss his hand, if he is so gracious as to honor them with the privilege. The people bow down before him and reverence him though he may at any moment lift his cane and give them a good whack over the head or shoulders. I never saw this done, but several of our men told me they had seen it; and one captain told me that he saw the priest take a huge bamboo pole and knock a man down because he failed to get into the procession in double-quick time. They do literally rule these people with the rod.



OSTEOPATHY.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

In 1895, for the benefit of one dearer to me than life, I went to Kirksville, Mo., and from Dr. A. T. Still learned something of the principles and practice of his great art. The subject grew in interest; I became a regular student of the American School of Osteopathy, and, in time, completed the course and took the decree. In the islands it was a great pleasure to me to help our sick soldiers; scores of them, with touching gratitude, have blessed the use that I made of my hands upon them. Officers and men came daily for treatment. Soon the Filipinos came, too. Women walked many miles carrying their sick children; the blind and lame besought me to lay my hands upon them. It was noised about that I had divine power. My door was beset. I gladly gave relief where I could, but for the most of them help was one hundred years too late.

I recall with special pleasure one successful case. A woman came to me who said she had walked forty miles to bring her sick child; for compensation she offered a pigeon and three eggs. I could not look out of my window without seeing some poor sick native squatted on the ground waiting to see if I could do anything for her sick child or herself. The natives when burning up with fever think they dare not wash their bodies; they will lie hopeless and passive on the ground or on a small bamboo mat. It is pitiable to see them so utterly destitute; not one single thing that would go to make up a bed or pillow, nor do they seem to have any mode of taking care of their sick at all.

Our army hospitals were very well kept, indeed, but it was a great struggle to get help enough and to get the things needed for hundreds of sick soldiers. There were many large buildings, but as soon as the government attempted to purchase them, the Filipinos asked exorbitant prices. And then the sanitary conditions are such that it is hard to establish hospitals anywhere. I read with great pleasure that the capitol of Luzon will be on a plateau in the mountains where the temperature will be lower, the air better, and the water purer.

I am sure that Americans can live in the Philippines; I know that the resources of the islands are vast, especially in agricultural and mineral products; that we have, indeed, acquired in our new possessions immeasurable riches.

As soon as any Filipino wishes to become a friend and to impress you that he is rich and has vast possessions, the entire family, father, mother, and children, will call and bring quantities of fruits, fine clothes, carved shells, and native pearls with curiously wrought gold settings, and present them with great earnestness of manner and many words of praise. They tell you what great value they place upon your friendship, and that of all the people in all the world you are the one person that they do most ardently believe in, and finally that they consider you the greatest acquisition to their islands.

A Filipino general and his wife came again and again to see me; they brought a magnificent sunburst of diamonds which they urged me to accept with their greatest love and affection. I declined positively and absolutely. They seemed very much downcast that I would not accept this little token of their deep affection. They went home, but in about two hours came back, brought the diamonds, and again urged and urged so strongly that I finally consented to let the wife pin the elegant brooch on my dress; perhaps I should find out the hidden meaning of this excessive devotion. As soon as the officer in command returned, I told him of the gift, of my refusal, and of their return. A written note was hastily sent to the general that he must come and remove the brooch at once. Fearing the wrath of the officer, he came immediately and I returned the diamonds. Even after this the family renewed their efforts. I found out afterwards that the general had violated his oath of allegiance; his bribe was to buy my influence with the commanding officer.

It was evident that many of the better class of natives, in spite of oath and fair face, were directing and maintaining the murderous bands of banditti. Often letters were found that the Filipino generals had written to their women friends in Jaro, Iloilo and Molo, to sell their jewels, to sell all they could, to buy guns, ammunition, and food, and later other letters were captured full of the thanks of the Filipino army for these gifts. While the good Filipinos were taking the oath of allegiance with the uplifted right hand, the left was much busier sending supplies to the insurrectos.

The hypocrisy of the upper classes was matched by their cruelty. A native of prominence was gracious enough upon one occasion to direct a party of officers on their way. He was attended by his servant who walked or ran the entire distance carrying a heavy load suspended partly from his shoulders, and partly by a strap about the forehead.

The servant failed to start with the party, but in a short time he caught up by running swiftly. The master calmly got off his horse, motioned to the servant to drop his load, and proceeded to beat the man unmercifully with a cane made out of fish tail, a sword-like, cruel, barbed affair, about four feet long. The poor servant never uttered a cry. As soon as possible the officers interfered and stopped the torture. So bloody and faint was the poor victim that they gave him a horse to ride. The master was angry, declared he would not have his authority questioned and left the party.

A ball was given in the town of Jaro by the officers who were there and in the town of Iloilo. Army, navy, ladies, and nurses from the hospital were invited. It was considered quite an unusual thing to do at this time, as the Filipino soldiers were near at hand day and night, approaching and firing upon the town. One of the Filipino women said, "I do not see how the American officers dare congregate at so dangerous a time." The men decorated the huge ball room with magnificent palms and ferns which they had gathered and put up many flags. The regimental band was stationed on the porch at the rear of the building. It was, altogether, a very fine gathering, and all went merry "as the marriage bell."

There was a German on the dance programme that was to end in a mock capture. Not thinking that it might occasion alarm, at a certain point, some of the soldiers were instructed to fire off some cannon crackers; in addition the soldiers thought it would be just as well to fire off a few pistols. The surprise was very great. The colonel of a volunteer regiment nearby heard the commotion and gave orders for the company to turn out and find out where this fusillade was occurring, not supposing that it could be in private quarters. The Presidente of the town was greatly alarmed, as he was expecting any moment to be captured for serving under the U. S. government as head man of a town. The firing created a great commotion, people ran hither and thither to find out where the battle was going on; the musicians, who did not understand about the firing, were frightened, too; there was a call to arms and great commotion. But soon explanations came, and immediately it was on with the dance. It was a huge joke, and when the sentry told that a colonel and his wife were the most frightened of all, barricading their doors and having extra guards placed around, the merriment knew no bounds.

It was seldom that the officers had any of these receptions or balls, but when they did everybody felt they must attend, and those taking part in the dance enjoyed themselves very much. Sometimes the officers would charter a small steamer and go to one of the nearby islands, but it was rarely they could do so, because of the skulking natives and their manner of signaling where these parties landed, making it unsafe for any but large companies to attend these excursions.

It was often the duty of our officers and men to stop the cruelties they saw practiced upon dumb brutes. I have in mind the way pigs were brought to market, their forefeet across a bamboo pole and their heads bound so that they could not squeal, and in this uncomfortable way they were carried many miles. Of the many stories that were told of the cruelties our soldiers perpetrated upon the helpless Filipinos, I do not believe one word; indeed, our men were constantly assisting the natives in every way possible.

On the 4th of July, 1900, our officers decided to tender a reception to the Filipino families whose hospitalities they had enjoyed. They issued invitations and decorated their quarters in fine shape with flags, bunting, palms, and pictures. It was quite the talk of the town. The beauty and chivalry of the island were there. For refreshments they served commissary supplies with ice cream and cake. The guests thought it a very poor banquet for such pretentious people as the officers were. The Filipinos always have a ten or twelve course meal at twelve o'clock at their dances, especially when they have festivals or wedding banquets. There were many of these given. I could often watch the throng from my window; they went at this particular kind of hilarity in the same listless, slow, silent manner in which they did everything. The popular dance is the "Rigadon." There is a great deal of swinging of couples and going forward and back. None of the common people seem to indulge in any form of a dance, so far as I could learn.

We invited upon several occasions some Filipino men and women to dine with us, and it was interesting to hear their remarks about various dishes we had prepared for them. They would ask questions concerning the preparations. Mince pies, which we made of canned meat and canned apples, were a source of great wonder; they would ask where they could get the fruit for that kind of a pudding. I know that they made wry faces at some dishes, and I know that we did ourselves, for some of them were beyond comparison; no chef in all the world could produce a good thing out of such materials.

The May festival was given by the children, chiefly by the little girls of the cathedral congregation. The leader was a woman of fine character and standing. She worked hard every day with these little tots to train them to do their parts well, which consisted of marching into the cathedral by twos', arranging themselves into a circle about the Virgin Mother and throwing flowers and bouquets, singing and speaking. The ludicrous part of it all was that these little things were supposed to be dressed like American children. The models had been taken from some old magazine,—huge sleeves, small waists, skirt to the knees, and pantlets to the top of shoes. The shoes were painfully tight and the little feet, unaccustomed to being held in such close quarters, limped and hobbled piteously. The festival was carried on every day for weeks. Bushels of flowers were thrown at the figure of the Blessed Virgin.

Some of the festivals in the larger cathedrals in Manila were gorgeous indeed. There were floats on which were carried the different patron saints, all gorgeously arrayed in the most magnificent costumes. Evidently the churches were never meant for the common or poor people, so few of them were ever seen within their walls; but without were vast crowds of beggars, of the blind, the deformed, the diseased; victims of smallpox and of leprosy in every stage of suffering. It is said that the first thing ordered by Bishop Brent, who took charge of the Protestant Episcopal church in the Philippines, was soap.



THE McKINLEY CAMPAIGN.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

The excitement on the islands ran quite high during the McKinley-Bryan campaign. The natives conceived that if Bryan were elected they could, in some way, they could not explain how, not only be very greatly benefited personally, but the U. S. troops would be withdrawn; they would then be rid not only of the Spaniards but of the Americans, and could then have a ruler of their own choosing. I knew that there were small papers or bulletins published to intensify these sentiments. Popular favor was all for Bryan and not one person for McKinley, while on the other hand I do not think there was a single soldier who was not a McKinley man. The feeling ran high, and, while our papers gave us every assurance that the Republican party would be victorious, we were very anxious for the news. On the night of the 6th of November we had the glorious report. It did not take long for the shouts to go up from every American soldier. About eleven o'clock P. M. all the American officers and men formed in procession with the band at the head; they came around to the house where I was staying and called out, "Come, Mrs. Conger, you must join in this jubilee." I did not need a second invitation. Snatching my little American flag that I take wherever I go, I formed in line with the boys. We marched around and around the park, cheering, singing patriotic songs, and hurrahing for McKinley. In front of one of the houses where I knew they were the most bitter toward the Americans, we cheered lustily. I had been there only a few days before to purchase a Jusi dress for Mrs. McKinley. I said that I would like one of their very best weaves, as it would go to the White House to Mrs. McKinley. With a great deal of scorn in her voice and manner she declared she would not make it. We continued on our march through and around the town until after one o'clock, when I returned to my room. I was about to retire when a detachment from the Scouts came and said, "Oh, Mrs. Conger, we want you to come over to the park, we are going to have a big bonfire." So I went over and we had another jollification, hurrahing, singing, shouting for McKinley, until we made ourselves hoarse. We burned up all the old debris that we could gather and plenty of bamboo, which makes a cracking noise, quite like a roll of musketry. From every window and crevice in every house about that park native heads were gazing at us, and never one cheer came from a single throat, but we gave them to understand in no uncertain terms where we stood. I suppose they thought it was only one more unheard of thing for a woman to do, to be out marching and singing, and I am sure they thought "Senora Blanco," the name I was called by the people all over the Island of Panay, had gone mad; and I was certainly doing unheard of things, for, as I said before, it is not considered at all proper for a woman to be walking or riding with a man. And to think that a woman of my years, and the only American woman in that part of the country, would, at such an hour, be marching with those hundreds of boys in the dead of night was wholly beyond their comprehension, and they had no words adequate to express their disgust at my outburst of enthusiasm and patriotism.



GOVERNOR TAFT AT JARO.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

When Governor Taft and other members of the peace commission were expected at Iloilo and Jaro, there were great preparations for several weeks before hand. The guests came to Jaro for a morning reception at the home of one of the wealthy citizens. The house had been beautifully decorated and the refreshments were served in the large room at the left of the hall; the buffet luncheon consisted of every kind of cake and sweetmeats, champagne, wine, and beer. The Filipino guests were in the large front room, seated in rows, six or eight rows, perhaps twenty in a row, with their backs to each other or facing each other.

I was the only American woman there until Mrs. Taft and other ladies with the peace commission arrived. Not wishing to sit solemnly in line gazing at these newly acquired sisters of mine, I ventured some remarks in Spanish about the weather and the coming guests. There was little response. My curiosity getting the better of me, I made bold to examine the gowns of these women for I had seldom seen before such handsome material, rich brocaded satins, cloth of gold wrought with seed pearls and jewels; huge strings of pearls on the neck, diamond and pearl rings on the fingers and very handsome ornaments in the hair; every head bore a huge pompadour and every face was heavily powdered; the perfume was stifling even with every window stretched to the fullest extent. Each woman carried a handsome fan and each was attended by at least one servant. After waiting in this rigid company manner about an hour and a half, the distinguished guests arrived. We were then entertained by some of the local artists and celebrities. There was vocal and instrumental music; a fine grand piano, very good violins, and the concert was by far the best music I had heard in the islands.

At 1:30 we were all carried over in carriages to the house of the Presidente and thirty-five of us sat down to a very sumptuous banquet of about eighteen courses. The menu of soup, fish, game, birds, salads, was very quickly served, a waiter for each guest. The table was furnished with much silver and cut glass, and at each plate was a bouquet holder with napkin ring attached; there were after-dinner speeches by Governor Taft, Judge Wright, and others; then we were ushered into the large drawing-room where coffee and cigars were served. The room had been especially prepared by the labor of many days spent on tacking flags on the ceiling and side walls, making a very beautiful effect. There were huge bunches of artificial flowers. For the entertainment at this house, all the Filipino bands from the surrounding towns were massed together. Governor Taft complimented his hosts upon their very delightful "entretener," and said he had seen nothing to compare with it for elegance and enthusiastic welcome since he had been on the islands. At every corner of the plaza there were erected handsome bamboo arches and booths, and every strip of bunting and every flag that could be got out were waving in Jaro on this great day of inauguration of the Civil Commission on the Island of Panay. To me it seemed anything but a peaceful time as the scouts were then out after a very desperate band of insurrectos, but I have never seen anywhere more beautiful ornamentation or more lavish display of wealth, and yet there was lacking in it all the genuine ring of cordiality and enthusiasm. In Iloilo there were many receptions and various kinds of entertainments given. Governor Taft invited leading citizens out to the ship where he returned the compliment with refreshments, good cheer, and a salute.

In writing of my life in the islands, I must mention incidents of serious nature and yet of common happening. Almost daily would come an instant call for troops to mount and ride post haste by night or day after some of these worse than lawless bands of Filipinos. One evening while we were at dinner we had as our guest a Lieutenant of one of the volunteer regiments. He had been ill and had spent the time of his convalescence in acquiring some of the manifold Filipino dialects, about sixty in all, it is said. He was detailed by the commanding officer to visit some of the inland villages and inspect the schools and inquire generally after the condition of the people. He told us that evening that he intended to make quite an extensive tour around the island of Panay in the interest of the schools. "You are going to take a strong guard, of course?" we asked. "Anyone going on such a peaceful mission as mine would not need even an orderly, but I will take an orderly to assist in carrying the books and pamphlets." The very next evening while we were at dinner, word was brought that this splendid young man had been killed not three miles from where we were sitting. In a few minutes men mounted and were off to the scene of the murder. In a nearby hut the young officer lay dead. He, who had so trustingly confided in these "peaceful people," had fallen the victim of his noble impulses. Every article of any value had been taken from his body except a little watch that he carried in a small leather case on his wrist; he had bought it that very day to send to his wife. No trace of the "insurrectos," the murderers, was ever found. A native woman said the officer was riding peacefully along with his orderly at his side when suddenly they were stopped by a volley of balls. The Lieutenant turned, as did also the orderly; their horses took fright, one rider was thrown, probably already dead, the other escaped. The funeral rites of our noble soldier were conducted with military honors; the body was sent home to his bereaved wife and family.

One day a missionary was on his way from town to town; he had, unfortunately, an orderly with him. He was stopped and asked his business; he replied that he was a missionary. "Why carry a gun?" was the scornful retort. He was stripped of everything of value but was allowed to return. The soldier did not fare so well; he was killed before the rescuing party could reach him. A detachment was sent out one day to procure some young beef for sale in a nearby village. They were received with open arms by the Presidente of the village and the Padre and were most sumptuously entertained. It was kindly explained that they had no young cattle for sale but that about a mile further on there were some very fine young calves that could be had at five dollars in gold.

Not thinking of any treachery, the soldiers mounted and rode about a mile beyond the village into a ravine which, according to the instructions, led to the cattle-field beyond. While crossing the stream in the bottom of the ravine, the men were startled by the whiz of bullets and, glancing up, found the steep banks lined with insurrectos who had opened fire without a moment's warning. Our men entrapped, surrounded, were ordered to surrender. For answer they put spurs to their horses and started back under a heavy fire. Unfortunately two of the fine horses were shot; their riders were obliged to run afoot the rest of the way up the bank and were picked up by their comrades. One of the men shouted, "Sergeant, don't you hear they are calling for us to surrender? Say are you going to?" With an oath, "No, not by a d—-d sight. Run and fight." Which they did and actually got away from hundreds of natives and arrived in Jaro breathless and weary, the horses covered with foam. Not a man had been killed or wounded. Two horses were killed outright, but none were maimed. Soon the troop was in the saddle and out after those treacherous miscreants. Many natives were arrested and brought to town and then it was found that this loyal (?) Presidente, whom the commanding general had had the utmost confidence in was at the head of a number of Filipino companies which scoured the country to capture small parties of our soldiers. As the investigations were pressed it came out that the bodies of their victims had been torn to pieces and buried in quicklime that there might be no traces left of their treachery. It was several weeks before the full facts were obtained and before the mutilated remains of our soldiers were found and brought back and buried.

The volunteer regiments suffered most from these brutal cowards, directed and urged on by the "very best men" in civil and "sacred" office. These are facts from the lips of U. S. officers, men who do not lie. Very often the troops were called out to capture these bloody bands, but it was hard to locate them or bring them to a stand. The natives knew so many circuitous ways of running to cover and they had so many friends to aid them that it was almost impossible to follow them. Whenever they were captured they were so surprised, so humiliated, so innocent, meek and subdued, that it would never occur to an honest man that they could know how to handle a bolo or a gun. But experience taught that the most guileless in looks were the worst desperadoes of all. My first sight of a squad of these captives is a thing not to be forgotten. They were a scrubby lot of hardly human things, stunted, gnarled pigmies, with no hats or shoes, and scarcely a rag of clothing. Their cruel knives, the deadly bolos, were the only things they could be stripped of. I looked down upon them from my window in astonishment. "It is not possible," I exclaimed, "that these miserable creatures are samples of what is called the Filipino army." "Yes," an officer replied, "these are the fellows that never fight; that only stab in the back and mutilate the dying and dead." My eyes turned to the guard, our own soldiers, fine, manly fellows, who fairly represented the personnel of our own splendid army. It made me indignant that one of them should suffer at the hands of such vermin or rather at the hands of the religious manipulators who stood in safety behind their ignorant degraded slaves.



SHIPWRECK.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

The climate seemed beyond physical endurance, although the thermometer ranged no higher than from ninety to one hundred ten, but the heat was continuous night and day; exhaustion without relief. The only time that one could get a breath was about five o'clock in the morning; in the middle of the day the sun's rays are white-hot needles,—this is the only way that I can express it; and even if one carries an umbrella, the heat pierces directly through. From the first of November to the middle of December, there is usually about six or seven hours a day of comparative comfort; but the season is too short to brace the enervated body. One day the thermometer fell to seventy-eight; we Americans shivered and craved a fire, so much did we feel the change of temperature.

I finally learned from the natives that it is not best after bathing, to rub the body with a towel; and indeed, following them more closely, that it is wise to feed with cocoanut oil the famished pores of the skin which has been weakened by excessive exudation. The rainy season begins in April, usually, and gives some relief from the excessive heat; and such rains, never in my life had I known before what it was to have rain come down by the barrelful! The two-story house in which we were quartered was quite solidly built, and the boards of the second story were over-lapped to keep out the rain; and yet, I have often had to get up on the bed or table while the water poured in at innumerable unsuspected cracks and swept the floor like a torrent. It was hard to tell which frightened one the most, the terrible rain-storms or the awful earthquakes. In the house there was a magnificent glass chandelier. The first time we had a severe earthquake that chandelier swayed back and forth in such a wild way that it seemed as if it must fall and crush every prism, tiny light, and bell. I felt sure whenever a quake began that I should not live through it. The flying fragments across the room, the creaking hard-wood doors, the nauseating feeling that everything under foot was falling away,—it was a frightful experience then, it is a sickening memory now. One never gets used to these shocks no matter how many occur; the more, the worse. They are more frequent in the night than in the day. It was not quite so bad if the wild start from uneasy slumber was followed by a cheery voice calling, "Hello there, are you alive, has anything hurt you, has anything struck?" Even the rats are terrified, and the natives, almost to a soul, leave their houses, congregate in the middle of the street, and begin to pray. Sometimes a fierce wind from the north brings sad havoc to the hastily built bamboo houses; a whole street of these slightly constructed dwellings is toppled over or lies aslant, or is swept away. At first we used to smile at the storm signal displayed at Iloilo. If the sky was clear and still, we would start out confidently on some trip, to the next town perhaps; before we had gone more than a half mile we would be drenched through and through and no cloud, not even as big as a man's hand was to be seen; at other times dense clouds, the blackest clouds, would shut down close upon us,—such are the strange variations. No sort of sailing craft ever leaves the port when the signals are up for one of these hurricane storms; if caught out in them they put instantly into the nearest port. Shipwrecks are frequent, partly on account of these sudden storms, but chiefly on account of the shifting sands of the course.

From Manila to Iloilo on a boat that had been purchased for the use of the government, I was, on one occasion, the only passenger on board. The captain had never been over this course before, but he was confident of getting through with the help of a Spanish chart. About two o'clock in the morning I sprang to my feet alarmed by the harsh grinding of the boat's keel, the scurrying of many feet, the shouting of quick orders. The shock of the boat blew out all lamps; in the darkness I opened the door of my cabin and ran to find the captain, guided by his voice. I learned that we were aground. I asked him if I could help. "Yes, if you can carry messages to the engineer and translate them into Spanish." I ran to and fro, stumbling up or down, forgetting every time I passed that a certain part of the ship had a raised ledge. The effort was to prop the boat with spars that it might not tip as it crunched and settled down upon the coral reefs. We could hardly wait until daylight to measure the predicament. When the light grew clear so that I saw the illuminated waters, there was a scene of new and wonderful beauty,—a garden of the sea, a coral grove. Far as the eye could reach there was every conceivable color, shape, and kind of coral,—pink, green, yellow, and white. It all looked so safe and soft, as if one might crush it in the hands; and yet these huge cakes of coral were like adamant, except the delicate fern-like spikes that were so viciously piercing the bottom of our boat. I saw all kinds of sea shells, the lovely nautilus spreading its sails on the surface, and the huge devil-fish sprawling at the bottom of the shallow pools, with its many tentacles thrown out on every side.

With innumerable ants, swarms of mosquitoes, lizards everywhere, rats by the million, mice, myriads of langoustas or grass-hoppers, long cockroaches, squeaking bugs, monkeys that stole everything they could lay their hands on, the fear of the deadly bolo, the dread each night of waking up amid flame and smoke, earthquakes, tornadoes, dreadful thunders and lightnings, torrents of water, life sometimes seemed hard; each new day was but a repetition of yesterday, and I used constantly to rely upon the assured promises—Psalms XCI:

"He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

"I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress: my God: in him will I trust.

"Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.

"He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust; his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.

"Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day;

"Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.

"A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.

"Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked.

"Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation;

"There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling.

"For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

"They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.

"Thou shalt tread upon the lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.

"Because he hath set his love upon thee, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name.

"He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him.

"With long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation."

Looking down from my window every day into the faces of six or more dead bodies that were brought to the cathedral, I knew that "The pestilence was walking in the darkness."



FILIPINO DOMESTIC LIFE.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE.

The houses are made of bamboo; some of them are pretty, quite artistic; the plain ones cost about seventy-five cents each; no furniture of any kind is needed. The native food is rice, or, as it is called in the vernacular, "Sow-sow." It is cooked in an earthen pot set upon stones with a few lighted twigs thrust under it for fire. When it is eaten with nature's forks—the fingers—with a relish of raw fish, it is the chief article of diet.

House-cleaning is one thing that I never saw in practice or evidence. I took a supply of lye with me and it was a huge joke to see the natives use it in cleaning the floors.

The windows are made of oyster shells which are thin and flat; these cut in three-inch squares make a window peculiarly adapted to withstand the heavy storms and earthquakes; it transmits a pleasant opalescent light.

Coffee is raised, but not widely used by the natives; they prefer chocolate.

After many unsuccessful attempts, I gave up trying to have my dishes washed in my way; I soon discovered that the servants used the tea towels on their bodies. This convinced me, and I let them wash mine as they did their own, by pouring water on each dish separately, rinsing and setting to dry on the porch in the sun, the only place where the vermin would not crawl over them.

The irons used for pressing clothes are like a smooth, round-bottomed skillet, the inside is filled with lighted sticks and embers. The operator, who sits on the floor, passes this smoking mass over the thing to be pressed. The article, when finished, looks as if it had been sat upon.

One Palm Sunday I visited five different churches in all of which were palms in profusion, woven into almost innumerable forms; fishes, birds in and out of cages, trees, fruits, flowers, crosses, crowns, sceptres, mitres, and saints' emblems. The cathedral at Arevalo looked like a huge garden, but, in one second after it had been discovered that a white woman and an American officer were present, the entire congregation, rising, turned to look at us; it seemed as if a whirlwind were sweeping the palms, so nervous were the hands that held them.

After the service, the crowd came out and vanished immediately, fear of an attack having overcome their curiosity.

Nearly all the little children are naked. One day I saw a little fellow about three years old who was suffering severely with the smallpox. He was smoking a huge cigar of the kind the natives make by rolling the natural tobacco leaf and tying it with a bit of bamboo fibre. He did look ridiculous. A native teacher told me that they all begin to smoke when about two years old; poor, little, stunted, starved things, fed on half cooked rice and raw fish.

Drunkenness is comparatively rare among the natives; the intoxicating beverage is the "Tuba," which is made about as follows: The flowers of the cocoanut are cut while still in bud and the sap, or "Beno," caught in a tube of bamboo; the liquor is gathered daily as we gather maple sap and fermented by the addition of a piece of wood, which also imparts a slight color. The product of this fermentation is an insidious stimulant. I never tasted it, but one poor soldier told me his sad experience and that sufficed. After a particularly hard march, his company came to a halt in a village; he asked for water, but could get only this innocent looking "Beno;" he took one tiny glass; it tasted like cologne water; his thirst not being quenched, he took a second and a third glass, after which he proceeded to make a howling mob of himself. This, since it happened in the face of the enemy, with momentary expectation of attack, was a serious offence enough, but coupled with the fact that he was "on guard" at the time, entailed punishments, the rigor of which, can be guessed only by those familiar with army discipline.

Once a party of officers and men were going from one island to another, carrying money and food for the soldiers. It was found, after starting, that they were not so heavily guarded as they should be, in view of the fact that they would be exposed to attack when in the narrow channels between the islands. At one point where they were hemmed in, not only by the islands, but by a number of sailing crafts, the Captain, a Filipino, very seriously asked the Paymaster if he had plenty of fire arms; his reply was, "Oh, muchee fusile," meaning, "Oh, very much fire arms." To add to the horror of the situation they were becalmed. The Captain became very much alarmed and the soldiers more so. Strange to relate, there came a gale of wind that not only blew them out into a wider channel beyond the reach of their insurrecto friends, but put them well on their way. This was told me as being almost like a miracle. No one can ever realize until they have been caught in one of these terrific gales what their severity is. I remember one blast that tore my hair down and swept away every article of loose clothing, also some things that I had just purchased; I never saw them again. It would not occur to the natives to return anything that they found, even if they knew that they never could use it; they all professed friendship to my face, and were constantly begging for any little article that I might have, but they never returned anything they saw me drop or that had been blown away.