We have now entered into possession of our trap and pony, and have had some blissful drives along the eternal roads to Jaro and Molo, out in the sunset and back in the starlight or moonlight, skimming along on rubber tyres. Tracks that we used to tear down when anyone lent us a carriage are now rigorously tabooed! Everyone here drives top-speed, and the Filipinos all crawl about the roads, and never dream of getting out of the way unless one shouts out a native word—“Tabé!”—when they just move enough to avoid instant death like a clever matador in a bull-fight. The curious thing is we have more trouble with the natives who are walking towards us instead of those going the same way. That may sound strange to you, and even incredible, but if you knew the Philippines and the Filipinos you would understand that it could not be otherwise. This element is very exciting, and makes an ordinary evening-drive to Molo rather better than a trip on a fire-engine in Piccadilly.
I quite forgot to tell you that some time ago an unknown man was announced and walked into the sala, in the evening, just before C—— came home. This person was an American, of about thirty, with rather a good-looking face and the usual thick, long hair parted in the middle. He bowed and said:
“Mis’ Darncey, I guess?”
I said Mrs Dauncey was my name.
“Is your husband to home?”
I said he was not, and began to get alarmed, for I thought the man had come to tell me of some accident to C——; but he soon reassured me by telling me he guessed I could tell him what he wanted to know, which was whether we had a spare room, as he was looking for a family for himself and his wife to board with.
I nearly fell down flat with amazement, but I managed, I hope, not to show my surprise, for I remembered that the Americans live out here in “messes,” often several families together, and I reflected that this touting must be some curious custom of which I had not heard. So I said, quite politely, that I was very sorry, but I was afraid this house was only large enough for ourselves.
“Oh,” he said, with a great deal of bowing, but no intention of going away, “I heard this was a big house and reckoned you didn’t fill it.”
“We have a room empty,” I said, “in fact we have two, but I am afraid my husband would never hear of such a thing as anyone we did not know, or any friend, either, coming to live with us.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” he said. “My wife is in a quilez downstairs, and I can fetch her up to see you and look at the rooms.”