[Illustration: "_The subsequent walk across the plaza with the hard-won bundle, beneath the appreciative eyes of the whole town, had been humiliating_"] We were sitting around the big centre table in the sala of the "House of Guests" in Ilo-Ilo. We were teachers from Occidental Negros. It was near Christmas; we had left our stations for the holidays--the cholera had just swept them and the aftermath was not pleasant to contemplate--and so we were leaning over the polished narra table, sipping a sweet, false Spanish wine from which we drew, not a convivial spirit, but rather a quiet, reflective gloom. All the shell shutters were drawn back; we could see the tin-roofed city gleam and crackle …
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