aken alive and wriggling from their prison, the beautiful Iday
got out the harp, for Iday not only played well on that instrument,
but, besides, she had very pretty fingers. The young people applauded
and Maria Clara kissed her, for the harp is the most popular instrument
in that province, and was especially suited to this occasion.

"Sing the hymn about marriage," begged the old women. The men protested
and Victoria, who had a fine voice, complained of hoarseness. The "Hymn
of Marriage" is a beautiful Tagalog chant in which are set forth the
cares and sorrows of the married state, yet not passing over its joys.

They then asked Maria Clara to sing, but she protested that all her
songs were sad ones. This protest, however, was overruled so she held
back no longer. Taking the harp, she played a short prelude and then
sang in a harmonious and vibrating voice full of feeling:

Sweet are the hours in one's native land,
Where all is dear the sunbeams bless;
Life-giving breezes sweep the strand,
And death is soften'd by love's caress.

Warm kisses play on mother's lips,
On her fond, tender breast awaking;
When round her neck the soft arm slips,
And bright eyes smile, all love partaking.

Sweet is death for one's native land,
Where all is dear the sunbeams bless;
Dead is the breeze that sweeps the strand,
Without a mother, home, or love's caress.

The song ceased, the voice died away, the harp became silent, and they
still listened; no one applauded. The young women felt their eyes
fill with tears, and Ibarra seemed to be unpleasantly affected. The
youthful pilot stared motionless into the distance.

Suddenly a thundering roar was heard, such that the women screamed and
covered their ears; it was the ex-theological student blowing with all
the strength of his lungs on the _tambuli_, or carabao horn. Laughter
and cheerfulness returned while tear-dimmed eyes brightened. "Are
you trying to deafen us, you heretic?" cried Aunt Isabel.

"Madam," replied the offender gravely, "I once heard of a poor
trumpeter on the banks of the Rhine who, by playing on his trumpet,
won in marriage a rich and noble maiden."

"That's right, the trumpeter of Sackingen!" exclaimed Ibarra, unable
to resist taking part in the renewed merriment.

"Do you hear that?" went on Albino. "Now I want to see if I can't
have the s