m of pay-day was
avoided. But the two best poker-players in the company corraling all
the money, either would proceed to narrow the financial distribution
further, or would shake hands and agree to make deposits on the
next disbursing-day. Some of the men on their discharge would have
a thousand dollars, or enough to set them up in business in the States.

These "outfits" differ greatly in their character. Some are composed
of sociable, kind-hearted fellows, while others may contain a large
percentage of professional "bad men" and rowdies. Each company
will have its own traditions and a reputation which is guarded
jealously. There was the "fighting Twenty-eighth," the regiment
invincible. The soldiers grow attached to their outfit. On their
discharge, which they have eagerly looked forward to, after a day
or two of Frisco, when the money has been spent to the last dollar
of the "finals," more than one chop-fallen soldier, looking up the
first recruiting sergeant, will "take on" again.

The "company fund" is a great institution, and an "outfit" with a
good fund is considered prosperous. This money goes for extras at
the table, for baseball equipments, or for company mascots. The
sergeant-major usually has charge of this disbursement, and the
soldiers, though they grumble at his orders, can not help respecting
him. The sergeant-major has been seasoned in the service. He is a ripe
old fellow, and a warrior to the core. The company cook is also an
important personage. It was the old cook at Balingasag--I think that
he had served for twenty years--who fed me in the convent courtyard
on _camotes_, egg-plant, and a chicken which he had stolen from a
native. According to his theory, a soldier was a licensed robber,
and the chicken should be classed as forage--not as plunder. He
was a favorite among the officers, who used to get him started on
his favorite grievance,--the condemnation by a board of survey of a
certain army mule. "I liked that mule," he used to say. "He was the
best mule that the service ever had."

The nightly "argument," or "chewing the rag," is a favorite pastime
in an isolated camp. Sitting around upon the army cots or chests,
the soldiers will discuss some unimportant topic until "taps" sounds.

I will admit that "Company M" was a disreputable lot. They never
dressed up; frequently they went without their footgear; and they
drank much _tuba_ with the natives. They took delight in teaching
the small boys