women
donned their prettiest frocks, and chatted over their teacups on the
club veranda, quite as if they were not hundreds of miles away from
everything that makes life bearable.

Cebu is a town with a past, like the Ibsen woman; it also has a future;
but at present it is in the transmigratory period between the two,
and is in consequence odious. The place is chiefly interesting because
it is the oldest town in the archipelago settled by Europeans, and one
revels in its queer, moss-grown churches and _conventos_, each of them
said to be the most ancient edifice in the Islands. This occasions
much amicable dispute among the different religious orders of Cebu,
and it is really edifying to hear them mildly slander one another,
as they give conclusive evidence why their particular building is far
older than some other for which is claimed that not always enviable
distinction.

Not far from the shore stands an octagonal chapel or oratory, said to
be built on the very spot where the first mass was celebrated after
the landing of Magellan. Even the old stone fort is claimed by some
earnest prevaricators as a relic of those early Spanish days, but as
the architecture is clearly that of the eighteenth century we took
the liberty of doubting the veracity of these statements.

As to Cebu's future, it is assured, for the harbour is excellent,
and, although not large, is well sheltered from both monsoons and
has good anchorage, so the place is growing quite rapidly and
should in time rank next in importance to Manila. A number of
"godowns," as large warehouses are called in the Philippines,
were in the process of construction at the time of our visit,
and so many industrial and commercial improvements were being
inaugurated that my little note-book reads like a leaf from a
geography--"manufactures--imports--exports--chief industries," and
the like. As for climate, it was hot, is hot, and will be hot on
into infinity.

Had it not been for the Santo Nino, I fear our memories of the
place would have been purely statistical, a perfect orgy of useful
information. But the Santo Nino saved the day, though it was not
until our last visit to Cebu that most of us saw this image so famous
among the island group. Calling upon the Philippine fathers in charge
of the Santo Nino convent, and stating our interest in the Santo
Nino itself, we were received with the utmost cordiality. Were we
Catholics? No? Ah, that was too bad. But, yes, of c