When the orchestra arrived--a trifle late after a six-mile hike through muddy roads and over swollen streams--the company was more delighted than a nursery. The orchestra began the program with the piece entitled "Just One Girl," to which the people sang Visayan words. Vivan, the old clown, in clumsy commissary shoes, skated around the floor to the amusement of the whole assembly. The chair-dance was announced, and the most favored _señorita_ occupied a chair set in the middle of the room. A dozen suitors came in order, bowing low, entreating her not to reject their plea. One after another they were thrown down, and retired crestfallen. But at last the right one came, and waltzed off with the girl triumphantly. There was a salvo of applause, the more intense because in this case an engagement had been practically announced. No native ball would be complete without the symbolistic dance which so epitomizes Filipino character. This is performed by a young lady and her partner wielding fans and scented handkerchiefs, advancing and retreating with all kinds of coquetries. Long after midnight, when the party broke up with the customary horse-play, the accommodating orchestra, who had enjoyed the evening with the rest, still playing "Just One Girl," escorted the assembly home. Chapter XVIII. Visayan Ethics and Philosophy. He is the drollest little person in the world--the Filipino of the southern isles. He imitates the sound of chickens in his language and the nasal "nga" of the carabao. He talks about his chickens and makes jokes about them. As he goes along the street, he sings, "_Ma-ayon buntag_," or "_Ma-ayon hapon_," to the friends he meets. This is his greeting in the morning and the afternoon; at night, "_Ma-ayon gabiti_." And instead of saying, "Thank you," he will sing, "_Deus mag bayud_" (God will reward you), and the answer, also sung, will be "_gehapon_" (always)--just as though it were no use to look for a reward upon this world. You wonder how it is that he can spend his life rooted to one spot, like a tree, passing the days in idleness. He is absorbed in his own thoughts. If you should ask him anything he would not hear you; he is far away in his own dreamland. You must wake him up first, and then repeat your question several times. If you should have instructions for him, do not give them to him all at once. A single idea at a time is all that he can carry in his head. If he has not been broken in to a routine, he will chase butterflies upon the way, influenced ever by the passion of the moment. There is no yesterday or no to-morrow in his thoughts. What he shall find to eat to-morrow never concerns him. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.