Friday, March 18.—This morning I went to school, and, although I was tired from last night's pugilistic contest, I worked at the office of the English department. But in the midst of my meditations on a perplexing mistake which a second-year student had made in his short-story theme, upon my shoulders fell two hands. I looked up, rather amazed at the sudden attack, but I saw Mr. Fansler's familiar face. "Ready, Victor!" said he. "Ready for the banquet, do you mean?" "No, to meet Mr. Beattie."
I remembered I had to go with several people on a launch to meet Mr. Beattie, who had returned from a visit to the States. I put on my buntal hat, with a minute-man's start, and ran down the flight of steps of the Normal School building.
Gathered around the portico were the superintendent of the Normal School, the representatives of the faculty and the representatives of the various classes. Mr. Fansler and I joined the cheerful group, three-fifths of which consisted of blooming femininity. As we walked along the acacia grove we felt no heat, but on the open road, where fell the blistering sun's rays, the women lagged. "They feel the heat, to be sure!" I said to myself. "These women at the Normal, I suppose, are not used to heat. Tender and fresh, they have little or no exercise."
But necessity was to compel them to run a short race that day. The buzz of the street car wire along Calle Real made them walk faster, and finally they really began to run; as lightly as doves, however. The car took us down to Plaza de Magallanes, back of the Treasury building, but we did not find our launch there.
As I walked along the edge of the Pasig River bank I noticed a small, booth-like hut, in which I saw an old woman seated on a stool. She held in her right hand a bunch of perforated banana leaves, with which she drove away the flies that tried to alight on the rice and fried fish. Presently a man came, ate his ten-centavo meal of rice and a half fish, and departed after the manner of a Frenchman. But soon I saw my companions going on board the launch and I followed them.
The boat was not very big; it had just enough room to accommodate the young women and to allow the fellows to sit contiguously on the sides. All at once the launch began sailing down the smooth river and within ten minutes we had passed around Engineer Island.
Out in the bay the billows rose. The foam began to appear in greater quantities as we sailed farther and farther into the sea. The boat swung to and fro as she courtesied to the waves. But upon looking round, I discovered that some of the young ladies were seasick. I was trying to reason out the cause of this malady when all of a sudden a spray of salt water threw itself directly at my face and my tongue felt the liquid.
"What a nasty taste salt water has!" I exclaimed, as I tried to suppress with an effort the sudden change in my stomach.
"How do you like it, Yamzon?" asked fat Memije, the spherical student of the Academy. Without waiting for an answer, "That's good! The water will make you fat. Should you like to know how I got fat?" continued he, whom I always compare to a sponge because of his capacity for imbibing water in great quantities. "Yes," I muttered, ungraciously. "Well, I drink four glasses of water before meals and after meals." "But not salt water," I rejoined. "No, no; fresh water is what you need."
Just then we spied the Tean, which was bringing back Mr. Beattie. As we approached we saw a man who was so much like him that the ample instructor of the correspondence department exclaimed in her not too melodious and high-pitched voice, "There's our dear old superintendent!"