An Epoch in History | Page 7

evening between us and the
Filipinos was of necessity not very rapid.
The necessity of easy communication between us was rendered
somewhat less indispensable by the announcement of supper as soon as
we were rested from our trip. When we had taken our places at the table
a young Filipino about twenty-five years of age arose and gave a
lengthy toast to the recent union of the Philippines with the United
States. But as we Americans were unable to scale the dizzy heights of
his climaxes or sink to the depths of his pathos, we forewent the
pleasures of his oratory and turned our attention to the savory odor of
lamb, chicken, and roast pig that came slyly stealing up our nostrils to
send us nerve dispatches about the gastronomic delights of our not far
distant future.
At last the toast was ended and the world-wide soup ushered in a long
train of things good to eat, served in a style better fitted to the delights

of the appetite than to the formalities of dinners, for, as soon as the
pleasant task of one dish was completed by any one, the next was
served him at once regardless of the progress made by the others at the
table.
The last course was dulce. The new-comers to the Philippines will not
be long in making the acquaintance of this dish, and at all meetings,
both public and private, where eatables are served, it performs an
important part. It is anything sweet, and it may vary all the way from an
india-rubber-like black mixture of cocoanut milk and dirty sugar to a
really toothsome and respectable confection. No matter of what
materials a dish is composed, just so long as it is sweet, it is dulce.
After paying our respects to this last course, we arose from the table
and entered a great rectangular room from the center of whose ceiling
hung a large glass chandelier, a mass of shimmering crystals. In the
chairs around the room were the wealth, the youth, and the beauty of
the town.
The first and also the last number of every Filipino dance of any
formality is the "rigodon." The dancers are arranged in a square, or
quadrangle according to the number participating, and are then led
through a tangled maze of figures that so utterly bewilders the novice
that he sinks into his chair at the end of the dance wondering how it all
came to pass.
We Americans breathed a sigh of relief when the "rigodon" ended, and
mustered fresh courage for social conquests in the waltz that was now
breathing forth from the trembling strings. My companion in the first
dance had been the young lady by whose side I had sat at dinner. But it
now became necessary to search for another, so I prudently waited to
see how partners were chosen, and made no mistake when a few
moments later I faced one of the most luscious looking señoritas on the
opposite side of the room and offered her my arm. My eyes must have
told the story that my lips could not utter in Spanish, for she smiled
upon me sweetly, arose, and put her hand upon my shoulder. My arm
encircled her waist and I began to waltz. Unfortunately my companion
did not follow, but began to hop up and down in a manner most

distressing. Supposing the attack to be only temporary, I paused and,
much to my relief, she soon showed signs of recovery; and in the
course of time she came to a standstill looking up into my face in an
inquiring sort of way, apparently wondering why St. Vitus had not paid
his respects to me also. A second attempt to follow the music met with
results similar to the first, and during the third attempt, which seemed
to be trembling on the verge of a failure, St. Vitus let go my companion
and seized me with such vigor that she, who was small even for a
Filipino, was gathered up bodily and taken around the room at such a
pace that her toes touched the floor only at far distant intervals.
At this point my devotion to the shrine of Terpsichore ceased from
force of circumstances and I seated myself in one of the most
comfortable chairs in sight that I might carry out a previously formed
plan to study the Filipino somewhat critically as he appears in society.
The first thing that impressed me as the dancers passed up and down
the room was the flash of diamonds. Nearly every woman in the room
had on a brooch that flashed the colors of the rainbow at every turn.
Almost all of them wore one or more rings that showed up brilliantly
under the chandelier. Many