During a question of taxation, Mr Taft said:
“I want to know if you think it would be any good to reduce the Land Tax, or if, by suspending it for three years, the trade and agriculture of the country would benefit?”—or words to that effect. Whereupon he and old Señor Meliza had quite a long argument about this weighty point.
The whole ceremony was indescribably free and easy, and even commonplace. Most of the Senators took very little interest in the proceedings, while the ladies with them did not even pretend to care about what was going on. As to “Miss Alice,” she was honest enough to make no pretence at all of listening to anything, but sat staring before her, drumming with her pretty, slender, white fingers on her lips, only waking up to signal and laugh to some friends in a doorway near the platform. She was very girlish and natural in this and in all her other gestures, and if she lacked the pose necessary to the occasion, one could not be too critical nor take objection to her lack of grand manner when people were presented to her, for, after all, such situations are only to be carried off with ease by those born and bred to State ceremonies. Besides, it would have been unreasonable to have looked for scrupulously aristocratic bearing amongst such a party of professed democrats.
In spite of all that, however, the Filipinos, who, with their traditions of custumbres, are themselves a very polite people, were much shocked by the free and easy ways of their rulers, benefactors, or whatever they are. I afterwards heard many little comments upon the American lack of dignity, which made me feel sad, for these two peoples will never understand each other—even the good sentiments of the heart being conveyed by differences of manner, which are meat to one and poison to the other.
In talking of taxation, the word “sugar” suddenly arose, on which Mr Taft, who was getting obviously bored, and mopping his face freely, rose and said:
“See here. We’ve come to this place to talk about sugar. Now, look here, have you got any room where the gentlemen who are with me can meet your representatives? They would like to see a sugar plantation growing, too, if you can show them one.”
The Filipinos said they thought that could be arranged, and, as a matter of fact, the hall for this confabulation was already prepared, and the growing cane ready as well.
“That’s all right,” said Mr Taft. “All I care about is to get out of this room and get some of that nice cool wind on me!” He looked simply melting. So everyone rose up, and Mr Taft gave out that Mrs Carter, the wife of the General, invited the ladies of the party to luncheon with her at her house “on” the Calle Real at one o’clock. Then everyone filed away, and we went home to rest before the evening. It was then half-past eleven—very late for this country—and the sun very hot.
I was afterwards told about the ladies’ luncheon party. It only consisted of the visitors, most of whom were already personal friends of Mrs Carter, so, of course, it was not an important function. Here, again, I thought, was a golden opportunity wasted, for a few invitations extended to leading Filipino and Mestiza ladies would have done more good to the American cause than all the utterances of the cleverest orators.