e busiest part of the town, where the roar of commerce is loudest
and traffic most congested, the stream is, for a distance of a mile,
crossed by only one wooden bridge. During six months of the year, one
end of this bridge is out of order, and the other end is impassable
during the remaining time.

The house is low and somewhat out of plumb. No one, however, knows
whether the faulty lines of the building are due to a defect in the
sight of the architect who constructed it, or whether they are the
result of earthquakes and hurricanes.

A wide staircase, with green balustrades and carpeted here and there in
spots, leads from the zaguan, or tiled entrance hall, to the second
story of the house. On either side of this staircase is a row of
flower-pots and vases, placed upon chinaware pedestals, brilliant in
coloring and fantastic in design. Upstairs, we enter a spacious hall,
which is, in these islands, called caida. This serves to-night for
the dining hall. In the middle of the room is a large table, profusely
and richly ornamented, fairly groaning under the weight of delicacies.

In direct contrast to these worldly preparations are the motley colored
religious pictures on the walls--such subjects as "Purgatory," "Hell,"
"The Last Judgment," "The Death of the Just," and "The Death of the
Sinner." Below these, in a beautiful renaissance frame, is a large,
curious linen engraving of two old ladies. The picture bears the
inscription "Our Lady of Peace, Propitious to Travellers, Venerated
in Antipolo, Visiting in the Guise of a Beggar the Pious Wife of the
Famous Captain Ines in Her Sickness." In the side of the room toward
the river, Captain Tiago has arranged fantastic wooden arches, half
Chinese, half European, through which one can pass to the roof which
covers part of the first story. This roof serves as a veranda, and
has been illuminated with Chinese lanterns in many colors and made
into a pretty little arbor or garden. The sala or principal room of
the house, where the guests assembled is resplendent with colossal
mirrors and brilliant chandeliers, and, upon a platform of pine,
is a costly piano of the finest workmanship.

People almost filled this room, the men keeping on one side and the
women on the other, as though they were in a Catholic church or a
synagogue. Among the women were a number of young girls, both native
and Spanish. Occasionally one of them forgot herself and yawned,
but immediately sought to co