r smiled and told this story: "One day a shepherd noticed
that his goats, which had eaten the cherries off a coffee bush,
danced about in high excitement as though they, instead of their
master, were going to a fiesta. Then the shepherd ate the berries,
too, and felt stimulated himself. That is how coffee in time came
to our breakfast table. Instead of eating the berry, we grind it and
steep it, and drink the liquor."

"But, father, the seeds are light colored, and not deep brown, when
you open the fruit," said Fil.

"I know," replied Fil's father. "We roast the seeds in an oven, to get
rid of the moisture and to preserve and ripen the stimulating oils."

"Thank you all;" I exclaimed, "now I will behold a whole tropical
story of geography and commerce, every time I look into a grocer's
window at home."

CHAPTER VI

HEMP AND SUGAR

"However, the richest products of our Philippine Islands are abaca
(ab'aca) and sugar," said the fatherly Padre next morning, when I
met him under the shade of the bamboos and the madre trees.

"I am sure you do not know what abaca is," laughed Filippa.

"I guess from its name that it may be a cousin of tobacco; it sounds
like it: abaca,--tobacco."

"Names are sometimes misleading," replied the Padre. "The manila hemp,
or abaca plant, is a nearer cousin of the banana palm. You cannot make
a sail or tie up a bag of potatoes, without using our manila hemp,
or abaca. It is the strongest fiber known; it does not weaken in
water. The great hawsers that are used to pull the great ships, are
made out of it. It all comes from the leaf of this Philippine palm."

"Wonderful and beautiful and useful islands," I confessed. "But how
do you make a leaf into a cord, a hawser, a sail, or a bag?"

The Padre continued: "This big plant with leaves taller than a man,
grows on a hill. We do not let it flower. The huge leaves are cut near
the root, and new leaves grow up at once. All through the leaf run
long tough ribs. We drag this over a big rough knife that is fastened
in a board; and thus we scrape away the soft pulp without breaking
the fiber. The wet fibers, we hang over a fence in the sun, to dry.

"Then we press the fibers all together, and ship them to you in big
heavy bales, in the bottom of a ship. You weave the bales of fiber into
bags, cloth, hawser ropes, canvas, tents, and cordage. We Filipinos,
also, split the fiber and weave it into many kinds of cloth. Sometimes
we mix silk