foe, if you are attracted by the strains of the orchestra, the lights,
or the suggestive rattling of dishes, knives, and forks, and if you
wish to see what such a gathering is like in the distant Pearl of
the Orient. Gladly, and for my own comfort, I should spare you this
description of the house, were it not of great importance, since we
mortals in general are very much like tortoises: we are esteemed and
classified according to our shells; in this and still other respects
the mortals of the Philippines in particular also resemble tortoises.

If we go up the stairs, we immediately find ourselves in a spacious
hallway, called there, for some unknown reason, the caida, which
tonight serves as the dining-room and at the same time affords a
place for the orchestra. In the center a large table profusely and
expensively decorated seems to beckon to the hanger-on with sweet
promises, while it threatens the bashful maiden, the simple dalaga,
with two mortal hours in the company of strangers whose language and
conversation usually have a very restricted and special character.

Contrasted with these terrestrial preparations are the motley paintings
on the walls representing religious matters, such as "Purgatory,"
"Hell," "The Last Judgment," "The Death of the Just," and "The Death
of the Sinner."

At the back of the room, fastened in a splendid and elegant framework,
in the Renaissance style, possibly by Arevalo, is a glass case in
which are seen the figures of two old women. The inscription on this
reads: "Our Lady of Peace and Prosperous Voyages, who is worshiped in
Antipolo, visiting in the disguise of a beggar the holy and renowned
Capitana Inez during her sickness." [15] While the work reveals little
taste or art, yet it possesses in compensation an extreme realism,