candles, and at night would throw the bodies of the dead
into the river or the canal. The ships lay wearily at quarantine
out in the bay, and the chorus of bells striking the hour at night
was heard over the quiet waters. Officers patrolled the streets,
inspected drains and cesspools where the filth of ages had collected,
giving the forgotten corners of Manila such a cleaning as they never
had received before.

But there were days of triumph and rejoicing--days such as had come to
Greece and Rome; days when the level of life was raised to heights of
inspiration. Not only have the streets re-echoed to the martial music
of the victorious Americans when Governor Taft or the vice-governor
were welcomed, but the town had rung with shouts of triumph when
provincial troops had come back from the conquest of barbarians, or
when the fleets returned from victories over the Dutch and English
and the Moro pirates of the southern archipelago. And the streets
reverberated to the sound of drum and trumpet when, in 1662, the
special companies of guards were organized to put down the rebellion
of the Chinese in the suburbs. But in 1762 the town capitulated to the
English, and the occupation by Americans more than a century later,
was a repetition of the scenes enacted then.

Because of the volcanic condition of the island, the houses can not
be built more than two stories high. The ground floor is of stone,
and contains, besides the storehouse or a suite of living rooms,
the stables, arranged around a tiled courtyard, where the carriages
are washed. A broad stairway conducts to the main corridor above. The
floor, of polished hardwood, is uncarpeted and scrupulously clean. Each
morning the _muchachos_ (house-boys) mop the floor with kerosene,
skating around the room on rags tied to their feet, or pushing a
piece of burlap on all fours across the floor. The walls are frescoed
pink and blue; the ceiling is often of painted canvas. The windows,
fitted with translucent shell in tiny squares, slide back and forth,
so that the balcony can be thrown open to the light. Double walls,
making an alcove on one side, keep out the heat of the ascending or
descending sun. The balcony at evening is a favorite resort, and
visitors are entertained in open air. In the interior arrangement
of the houses, little originality is shown, the Spaniards having
insisted upon merely formal principles of art. The stiff arrangement
of the chairs, facing each other i