Where the mercury chokes the thermometer’s throat,
And the dust is as thick as the hair on a goat,
Where one’s throat is as dry as a mummy accursed,
Here lieth the land of perpetual thirst.”
The afternoon-tea hour is perhaps more carefully observed among the English business houses here than in the capital to the north, and we left the very good little club, with its billiard-tables and stale newspapers, to join one of the regular gatherings in the large office of a friend. But tea, toast, jam, and oranges had no sooner been set before us than the deep whistle of the Uranus sounded, and those of us who were going north had to make a hurried adjournment to the neighboring wharf. Then, as everybody on deck began to say “adios,” and everybody on shore “hasta la vista,” the stubby little captain roared out “avante” and our steamer started for Manila, two hundred and fifty miles away.
Next morning we got our first taste of the monsoon, and it came up pretty rough as we crossed some of the broad, open spaces between the islands. There were three dozen passengers aboard ship, and everybody, including four dogs, was desperately sea-sick. But sheltering islands soon brought relief to the prevailing misery, the dogs recovered their equilibrium enough to renew the curl in their tails, and the heaving vessel grew quite still. We touched again at Romblon, on our way up, long enough to get the mail and bring off an unshaven padre or two, bound up to the capital for spiritual refreshment, and for the last time headed for Manila. The monsoon apparently went down with the sun; we were not troubled further with heaving waters, and early on Thursday morning passed through the narrow mouth of Manila Bay, just as the sun was rising in the east, and the full moon setting over Mariveles in the west. The Uranus made a short run across the twenty-seven miles of water to the anchorage among the shipping, and everybody bundled ashore in a noisy launch, almost before the town had had its breakfast.
In the afternoon, when the steamer came into the river, I brought all of my arms, armor, and shells ashore to the office, and the American skippers who were waiting for free breezes from the punkah began outbidding each other with offers of baked beans and doughnuts for the whole collection. At home, the house had not been blown away, but was firm as ever; the dogs rejoiced to see me back; the cat, with a crook in her tail, purred extra loudly; the ponies, that had grown fat on lazy living, pawed the stone floor in the stable; the boy put flowers on the table for dinner and peas in the soup, and the moon looked in on us in full dress. Thus ended a fortnight’s trip of some two thousand miles down through the arteries of the archipelago.
IX
Club-house Chaff—Christmas Customs and Ceremonies—New Year’s Calls—A Dance at the English Club—The Royal Exposition of the Philippines—Fireworks on the King’s Fête Day—Electric Lights and the Natives—The Manila Observatory—A Hospitable Governor—The Convent at Antipolo.