t through the province that if the needy would come into Capiz he
would see that they were fed. Of course he did no such thing. They
came and starved to death; but meanwhile the report of his generosity
was spread abroad, and nobody took any pains to tell the story of how
the miserable wretches had been cheated. So the politician profited
and the poor died.

No one whose life has been passed in American rural prosperity
can wholly realize one's helplessness in the face of these
conditions. Capiz was a town of twenty-five thousand people rejoicing
in many commodious and luxurious homes and a fine old church. It
would seem a small affair to tide over the distress of so small a
number as five hundred starving. But the greatest obstacle was the
fact that they were not temporarily starving. They represented a
portion of the inhabitants who either from voluntary or involuntary
helplessness would always need assistance, and the people of the town
did not see a clear way of assuming the burden.

I confess in my unsophistication I went out among them consuming with
fine altruistic zeal. A woman with a starving child in her arms begged
of me in the plaza. Instantly my purse was out, and instantly I was
mobbed by the howling, filthy crowd. My purse was almost torn out of
my hand, my hat was knocked over my eyes, and a hundred eager claws
tugged and pulled at my garments. I had fairly to fight my way out of
the mob, and learned to bestow no more alms in public. Then I took to
throwing pennies out of the window, and found as a consequence that
there was no rest day or night from the wailing and howling in the
street. Little by little the fountain of my philanthropy dried up,
and I contented myself with giving what I could to the Church to be
bestowed in regular channels.

At that time there was not a single hospital (American military
hospital excepted) in the Philippine Islands outside of the city of
Manila, and with the exception of one or two missionary establishments,
no poorhouses, no orphan asylums,--in short, no properly organized
eleemosynary institutions conducted by the State. The result was
one at which we Americans were first appalled, then indignant, then,
through sheer helplessness, indifferent. We simply became hardened
to sights and sounds which in our own land would stir up a blaze of
excitement and bring forth wagon-loads of provisions.

Between the two stone schoolhouses at Capiz was a connecting house
of nip