"Hao menny ligs? Hao menny ligs? Dee cao hes trree ligs? Count! Count! Wan, too-a, trrrree, four! Dee cao hes _four_ ligs. Wow! 'Sus-Maria-Joseph!" From the first she had taken an ardent liking for all American institutions. The liberty of women especially, as she gleaned it from her readings and from sundry discreet questions put to the Maestro, enchanted her. "Señor Maestro, in America, the young ladies, they go out in the street, all alone?" "Well, yes; it is considered all right for them to do so, in the West, at least." "And they go out all alone?" she repeated, pensively, in the awed tone that we are taught to use in a cathedral or pantheon. And, a few days later: "Señor Maestro, in America, the young girls, they go out with young men, all alone?" "Well, yes; that is--yes; it's considered all right for young people to walk together." "And they go out, in the evening, when the moon is shining, and walk together?" "Well, yes, some do. You see, it's very different in America from the Philippines. You see, in America, the young men and women are more like brothers and sisters." "Oh, they do not marry, then?" So that the Maestro's feelings, while watching this Americanisation, were somewhat mixed; especially so when the town council came to him in horror-stricken deputation and advised him of the fact that his Maestra was scandalising the pueblo by walking along the river banks with a young man in the evenings. The Maestra was no dreamy theorist. After that the Maestro was more careful in his inoculation of American virus. "No, sir," said the Maestro, to himself, rising from his chair and stretching, his self-examination finished; "no, sir; since that night the shocked council called on me I've been good. I've been almighty careful not to put new ideas into her blooming young head. I've been the acme of prudence. I've----" And suddenly he tumbled back into his chair, and his heart sank slowly down into his heels. For, he remembered, only a few days ago, in the Teachers' class, the subject of leap-year had come up, and his exposition had been--not exclusively astronomical. No, he must admit it, with that deplorable desire to astonish that possesses most of us, he had--well, his account of certain custom had been somewhat coloured, and more emphatic than the custom itself---- "Thunder!" ejaculated the Maestro, a new cold wave showering him. He rushed to the calendar tacked to the wall and turned the pages swiftly. He stood before the date, petrified. It was the twenty-ninth of February. III