how would you like it, not to have a fourth of july celebration, or a christmas stocking, or a turkey on thanksgiving-day? the little children of the philippines would be afraid of one of our firecrackers—they would think it was another kind of “boom-boom” that killed men. a life-sized turkey in the philippines would be a curiosity, the chickens and the horses and the people are so small. the little boys and girls do not wear stockings, even around christmas-time, and santa claus would look in vain for any chimneys over there. the candy, if the ants did not get at it first, would melt and run down to the toes and heels of christmas stockings long before the little claimants were awake. of course, they do not have plum-puddings, pumpkin-pies, and apples. all the season round, bananas take the place of apples, cherries, strawberries, and peaches; and boiled rice is the only kind of pumpkin-pie they have. [143]

the fathers and mothers of the little brownie boys and girls are very ignorant. most of them can not even write their names, and if you asked them when the family birthdays came they would have to go and ask the padre. once, when i was living at the convent, a girl-mother, who had walked in from a town ten miles away, came up to register the birth of a new baby in the padre’s book. she stood before the priest embarrassed, digging her brown toes into a big crack in the floor. “at what time was the baby born?” was asked. “i do not know,” she answered, “but it was about the time the chickens were awake.”

it is a lucky baby that can get goat’s milk to drink. their mothers, living for the most part on dried fish and rice, are never strong enough to give them a good start in life. it is a common sight to see the tiny litter decorated with bright bits of paper and a half-dozen lighted candles, with its little, waxen image of a child, waiting without the church door till the padre comes to say the funeral services.

in that far-distant country but a small number of children ever have worn pretty clothes—only [144]a tiny shirt; and they are perfectly contented, as the weather never gets uncomfortably cold. their mothers or their older sisters carry them by placing them astride the hip, where they must cling tight with their little, fat, bare legs. they are soon old enough to run around and play; not on the grass among the trees, but in the dust out in the street. their houses, built of nipa and bamboo, do not set back on a green lawn, but stand as near to the hot, dusty street as possible. to get inside the houses, which are built on posts, the babies have to scramble up a bamboo ladder, where they might fall off and break their necks. at this age they have learned to stuff themselves with rice until their little bodies look as though they were about to burst. a stick of sugar-cane will taste as good to them as our best peppermint or lemon candy. all the boys learn to ride as soon as they learn how to walk. saddles and bridles are unnecessary, as they ride bareback, and guide the wiry filipino ponies with a halter made of rope. the carabao is a great friend of filipino boys and girls. he lets them pull themselves up by his tail, and ride him into town—as many as [145]can make room on his back, allowing them to guide him by a rope run through his nose.

a carabao

a carabao

i do not think that many of the children can remember ever having learned to swim. the mothers, when they take their washing to the river, do not leave the little ones behind; and you can see their glistening brown bodies almost any morning at the riverside among the nipa, the young mothers beating clothes upon a rock, the carabaos up to their noses in the water, chewing their cuds and dreaming happy dreams. the boys can swim and dive like water-rats, and often remain in the river all day long.

the girls, when about five years old look very bright. their hair is trimmed only in front (a good deal like a pony’s), and their laughing eyes are very brown and mischievous. most of them only wear a single ornament for a dress—a “mother hubbard” of cheap cotton print which they can buy for two pesetas at the chino store. the boys all wear long trousers, and, at church or school, white linen coats, with military collars, which they call “americanas,” the girls do not wear hats. they save their “dutchy” little bonnets, [146]with the red and yellow paper flowers, for the fiesta days. they wear white veils on sundays when they go to mass. the boys’ hats often have long brims like those that we wear on the farm. they also have felt tam o’shanter caps, which they affect with quite a rakish tilt.

playthings are scarce in filipinia. the boys and girls would be delighted with a cheap toy cart or drum. the dolls are made of cotton cloth, with painted cheeks, and beads for eyes, dressed up in scraps of colored pi?a cloth in imitation of fine se?oritas. kite-time and the peg-top season come as in america. the filipino kites are built like butterflies or birds, and sometimes carry a long beak which is of use in case of war. kite-fighting is a favorite amusement in the islands, where the native boys are expert in the art of making and manipulating kites. among the other games they play is one that an american would recognize as “tip-cat,” and another which would be more difficult to recognize as football. this is played with a light ball or woven framework of rattan. the ball is batted from one player to another by the heel. the national pet [147]is neither dog nor cat; it is a chicken and the grown-up people think almost as much of this unique pet as the children do.

music comes natural to the filipinos. their instruments are violins, guitars, and flutes. the boys make flutes of young bamboo-stalks which are very accurate, and give out a peculiar mellow tone.

fiesta-days and sundays are the great events in filipinia. on sunday morning the young girls, in their white veils and clean dresses, go to mass, and, making the sign of the cross before the church, kneel down upon the bare tiles while the service is performed. the church to them is the magnificent abode of saints and angels. the wax images and altar paintings are the only things they have in art except the cheap prints of the saints and virgin, which they hang conspicuously in their homes. pascua, or christmas week, is a great holiday, but it is very different from the christmas that we know. the children going to the convent school are taught to sing the spanish christmas carols, and on christmas eve they go outdoors and sing them on the streets in the bright [148]starlight. their voices, although untrained, are very delicate and sweet. the native music, which they often sing, like all the music of the southern isles, is very melancholy, often rising to a hopeless wail. on the last day of school the padre will distribute raisins, nuts, and figs, which are the only christmas presents that the boys and girls receive. at the parochial schools they are taught to do their studying aloud, and always to commit the text to memory. if memory should fail them in a crisis, they would be extremely liable to have their ears pulled by the priest, or to be made to kneel upon the floor with outstretched arms, thus making the recitation somewhat of a tragedy; but there are also prizes for the meritorious. one book includes the whole curriculum—religion, table manners, grammar, “numbers,” and geography—arranged in catechisms of convenient length. the boys are separated from the girls in school and church, and i have very seldom seen them play together in their homes. during the long vacation they must spend most of their time at work out in the rice-fields under the hot sun. so they would rather go to school than have vacation. [149]

with the new schools and the american schoolteachers a great opportunity has come to the young people of the philippines. new books with beautiful illustrations have been introduced, new songs, and a new way of studying. it would amuse you if you were to hear them read. “i do not see the pretty bird” they would pronounce, “ee doa noat say day freety brud.” the roll-call also sounds a good deal different from that in our own schools, where we have our williams, johns, and henrys; but the filipino names are very pretty (mostly names of spanish saints), juan, mariano, maximo, benito, and torribio for boys; carnation, bernarda, and adela for the girls. the boys especially are very bright, and they are learning rapidly, not only grammar and arithmetic, but how to play baseball and tag and other games that make the child-life of america so pleasant.