C—— went to see our poor old Spanish friend about something a day or two ago (the ex-courtier, whose visit I think I described to you), and when C—— said that he had not seen him at the banquet, the old fellow replied that he had sent the committee 12 pesos towards the expenses, with a letter of well-wishing, etc., as he thought it was his duty to do so, and to contribute what he could.
“Well,” said C——, “but didn’t they answer with an invitation to the banquet?”
“No,” said the old man, “they did not even acknowledge the money.”
He seemed rather down on his luck about the whole thing, and more anxious than ever to sell his piece of land and go home to Spain to die.
LETTER XLIII.
HOMEWARD BOUND
S.S. Kai-Fong, August 25, 10 A.M.
Iloilo is now far away below the horizon astern, and if I look over the side, I am afforded the delightful spectacle of one Philippine Island slipping past after the other into pale blue fluff, and I hope they will stay down under my horizon for ever.
We scraped out through a network of taxes, like fish trying to get out of a fish-corral. Our two large cases had to get a Customs permit before they could be put on board, for which they got from us a peso in the form of a stamp upon the Export Entry, and another peso and a half for what they call wharfage. This means that they did not examine the contents of the cases, but gave C—— a paper to sign and an export permit. Another item is an Internal Revenue tax of a peso on each passenger ticket. Fancy if we at home had to pay 10 shillings in taxes before we could go across the Channel!