In all this part of the world the weather depends upon the monsoons. These blow with great regularity over the ocean, six months from the north-east and six months from the south-west. Their action on any particular place is, however, modified by the situation of mountains with regard to that place. The changes of the monsoon occur in April--May and October--November. It is the south-west monsoon that brings rain to Manila, and it has a fine stretch of the China Sea to career over, all the way, in fact, from the shores of Sumatra, till it drives the billows tumbling and foaming into the bay. The typhoons form far out in the Pacific near the region of the Western Carolines, and, whirling round the opposite way to the hands of a watch, they proceed on a curve that may strike Luzon, or, perhaps, go on for a thousand miles or more, and carry death and destruction to the fishermen of Fo Kien or Japan. When a typhoon passes clear, the usual result is several days of continuous heavy rain, but the air is cleared and purified. But should the vortex of the cyclone pass over your residence, you will not be likely to forget it for the rest of your life. The year in Manila may be roughly divided into three seasons:-- Rainy Season--June, July, August, September. In these four months about 100 inches of rain may fall, and 20 more in the rest of the year. Cool Season (so-called)--October, November, December, January. Hot Season--February, March, April, May. May is the terrible month of the year, the month of fevers and funerals. Let all who can, leave Manila before this month arrives. Hot, dry winds, dust-laden, pervade the houses, and have such an effect even on well-seasoned hardwoods, that tables, wardrobes and door-panels, split from end to end, or from top to bottom, with a noise like a pistol-shot, leaving cracks a quarter of an inch wide that gape till the rainy season restores the moisture. At this time the heat is at its maximum, and all nature gasps or fades. Not a drop of rain has fallen for months, the roads are inches deep in dust, the rivers nearly stagnant, and covered with a green scum, the whole country quite brown, the vegetation burnt up by the sun. Only the cockroaches rejoice; at this season they fly at night, and you may have a few fine specimens of the Blatta Orientalis alight on your face, or on the back of your neck, should you doze a moment on your long chair. Personally, I am proof against a good deal, but must confess that the hairy feet of a cockroach on my face or neck make me shudder.