In 1881 I visited the Capas Missions in Upper Pampanga. The authorities had established there what is called a _real_,--a kind of model village of bamboo and palm-leaf huts,--to each of which a family was assigned. They were supplied with food, clothing and all necessaries of life for one year, which would give them an opportunity of tilling the land and providing for themselves in future. But they followed their old habits when the year had expired and the subsidy ceased. On my second visit they had returned to their mountain homes, and I could see no possible inducement for them to do otherwise. The only attraction for them during the year was the fostering of their inbred indolence; and it ought to have been evident that as soon as they had to depend on their own resources they would adopt their own way of living--free of taxes, military service, and social restraint--as being more congenial to their tastes. Being in the Bataan Province some years ago, I rode across the mountain range to the opposite coast with a military friend. On our way we approached a Negrito _real_, and hearing strange noises and extraordinary calls, we stopped to consult as to the prudence of riding up to the settlement. We decided to go there, and were fortunate enough to be present at a wedding. The young bride, who might have been about thirteen years of age, was being pursued by her future spouse as she pretended to run away, and it need hardly be said that he succeeded in bringing her in by feigned force. She struggled, and again got away, and a second time she was caught. Then an old man with grey hair came forward and dragged the young man up a bamboo ladder. An old woman grasped the bride, and both followed the bridegroom. The aged sire then gave them a douche with a cocoa-nut shell full of water, and they all descended. The happy pair knelt down, and the elder having placed their heads together, they were man and wife. We endeavoured to find out which hut was allotted to the newly-married couple, but we were given to understand that until the sun had reappeared five times they would spend their honeymoon in the mountains. After the ceremony was concluded, several present began to make their usual mountain-call. In the lowlands, the same peculiar cry serves to bring home straggling domestic animals to their nocturnal resting-place. There is something picturesque about a well-formed, healthy Negrita damsel, with jet-black piercing eyes, and her hair in one perfect ball of close curls. The men are not of a handsome type; some of them have a hale, swarthy appearance, but many of them present a sickly, emaciated aspect. A Negrita matron past thirty is perhaps one of the least attractive objects in humanity.