when all will be swept on a wind
to a mount of judgment, where saints and angels will weigh them,
and souls heavy with sin will fall into hell; others that there is
no hell of fire, because there is not coal enough to keep it going,
but that every man is punished until his soul is purified, when it
rises to heaven, glowing with light and color; others that men are
punished according to their sins; liars and gossips with sore mouths
and tired jaws; gluttons with lame stomachs; jealous, cruel, tricky
people with aching hearts; abusive and thievish ones with pains in
their hands; others that one finds hell enough on earth in fear,
illness, disappointment, misunderstanding and Spaniards, to atone
for all the mischief he is liable to make.

Animal Myths

In the fables of the Filipinos the animals often speak together
in a common language. The dove, however, is the only one that
comprehends human speech, and it is a creature of uncommon shrewdness
and intelligence, like the hare in the Indian myths and Br'er Rabbit
in the stories of our Southern negroes. Once the dove was a child. In
shame and anger that its mother should refuse to give it some rice she
was pounding for panapig (a sort of cake), it ran out of the cabin,
took two leaves of a nipa, shaped wings from them, which it fastened to
its shoulders, and fluttered into the boughs of a neighboring tree,
changing, in its flight, from a child to a dove. It still calls
for panapig.

Darwin is read backward by the natives, for they say that the monkey
was a man, long, long ago, and might have been one still but for his
manana habit, so general in the Spanish colonies. He had a partner
whom he greatly vexed by his idleness, and once, when this partner
was planting rice, he glanced up and saw the monkey squatted on the
earth, with his face between his hands, watching the labors of the
industrious member of the firm,--for nothing makes loafing sweeter
than to see somebody else work. Enraged, the busy one caught up a
cudgel and flung it at the monkey, who was thereupon seized with a
sudden but futile activity, and started to run away. The club struck
him in the rear so mightily that it entered his spinal column and
stayed there, becoming his tail.

In the Moro tradition of the flood--a tradition almost world-wide--Noah
and his family got into a box when the forty days of rain began,
and one pair of each kind of bird and beast followed them. All of the
human race e