Indigo, Mango, Guava, Durian
“If you will remain in our sunnier Philippines, I’ll tell you about plants and flowers and fruits, that you have never even heard about,” said sunny little Filippa, who herself was as beautiful as a flower, and as soft to touch as a fruit.
“Tell about our indigo,” suggested her brother Fil.
Filippa looked very wise, pointed to her indigo skirt, and continued: “You get your dyes from the benzene of coal tar, but they do not stand washing or sunlight, as well as our bright and strong vegetable dyes. We take our indigo plant, and steep the leaves in water for twelve hours, in a stone tank. Then Fil drains off the yellow liquor. This soon turns green. Then blue sediment settles in Nature’s wonderful chemical way, under the strong sunlight. We drain off the water, and cut the indigo cakes into cubes.”
“Very well told,” remarked Filippa’s mother. “This is a dye which will not fade. It lasts as long as the gown. Now, Moro, I would like you to tell about mangoes and guavas and durians; for you are always eating them.”
Moro laughed, and began to throw sticks up into a tall tree.
“What are you doing? Why don’t you answer?” I inquired.
“I’m trying to knock down a custard, one foot long and half a foot deep,” he replied.
“Such nonsense. Custards in my country are made out of eggs and are baked in ovens,” I said.
“Not this better kind,” replied Moro, who brought down a huge fruit, all covered with sharp spurs and spikes, sharper and harder than rose-thorns.