He said he had come from America all the way, and told us he was a newspaper man with a mission, come to write up the trip. This made us understand better his asking from time to time such extraordinarily elementary questions. He wanted to know what a carabao was, and was surprised to hear that sugar cane only flourished in Panay and Negros. I had to explain to him that we were in Panay, and pointed out Negros and Guimaras!
I did not grudge the trouble of teaching him the A B C of the Philippines, but I could not help thinking it rather odd that he had no more preparation for his mission when his opinions would probably be “voiced” and quoted as oracles on his return to “God’s Country.”
Of course he was choke full of long words about the American Ideal, and told me a lot about the absurdity of such narrow prejudice as race-distinctions; but I let that go without remark, and without even taking the trouble to draw his attention to the demonstrations before his eyes; for I have found out by this time that you might as well talk to the wind as to a race-equality American who won’t sit “on a car” with a negro in the States.
C——, who was standing behind me, joined in the conversation, whereupon the American journalist instantly whipped out his visiting card and handed it to him, but of course C—— was quite unprepared, and had to spell his name and explain himself generally. It is very amusing, and at first rather embarrassing, the way Americans hand you a card as soon as you speak, but it has its advantages in getting names right.
The procession was remarkably like the one we had seen on Declaration Day, only with different “floats.” I don’t suppose you know what “floats” are, and no more did I, for when I had read descriptions of the processions in Manila, and how the “floats” were “gotten up,” I concluded the function had been a water-pageant on the Pasig. I heard some people about me using the same word, however, and mentioned it to my journalistic friend, who informed me that the word was one which was employed in the U.S.A. to signify cars in a procession, and that its origin was in New Orleans, where they had processions on the river with decorated “floats” or rafts.
This was a very long procession, and some of the agricultural cars were prettily done up with banana plants, and one had sugar canes growing in it; and there were ploughs, and rows of men carrying spades and hoes and things. Mr Taft stood and watched it all, talking to Miss Roosevelt; but he got what the children call a good deal of powder in his spoonful of jam, in the shape of huge white banners with large inscriptions on them about the financial situation and the tariffs. Some of these reminders were of a very ingenious pattern, like huge three-sided lanterns, with the inscription in English, Spanish, and Visayan, so that no one should make any mistake about what was meant. “A square deal” was written on one, and some of them were, to me, quite pathetic, for they said: “We are at your mercy,” and others were frank, not to say abrupt, requests for liberty, “to govern ourselves our own way.”
At all these and at the strings of labourers from the Harbour Works, the Fire Brigade, etc., Mr Taft stared very solemnly and steadily, standing upright in front of the balcony, with Miss Roosevelt beside him, his arms folded across his chest. I was much struck by his expression, and could not help looking at him as much as at the procession and wondering what he really thought of it all. When the workmen came past, our journalist friend suddenly betrayed his knowledge of Philippine affairs by saying knowingly: “Ah, these are the Chinese labourers, I guess.”
“No,” said C——. “Those are Filipinos. There are no Chinese labourers in the Philippines except in some mills in Luzon.”
This information apparently took the man’s breath away; if he believed it, which he probably did not. He was quite silent for a long time. Perhaps some of his most elaborate perorations had been damaged, and C—— and I thought afterwards that it was rather a pity we had disillusioned the poor creature as we did. Another of his cherished illusions was what I may call the St Louis “Exposition” idea of the Philippines, and we had the greatest difficulty in trying to persuade him that all he saw was not the direct result of the American occupation!