The lower-class native never comes at first call; among themselves it is usual to call five or six times, raising the voice each time. If a native is told to tell another to come, he seldom goes to him to deliver the message, but calls him from a distance. When a native steals (and I must say they are fairly honest), he steals only what he wants. One of the rudest acts, according to their social code, is to step over a person asleep on the floor. Sleeping is, with them, a very solemn matter; they are very averse to waking any one, the idea being, that during sleep the soul is absent from the body, and that if slumber be suddenly arrested the soul might not have time to return. When a person, knowing the habits of the native, calls upon him and is told "He is asleep," he does not inquire further--the rest is understood: that he may have to wait an indefinite time until the sleeper wakes up--so he may as well depart. To urge a servant to rouse one, one has to give him very imperative orders to that effect: then he stands by one's side and calls "Senor, senor!" repeatedly, and each time louder, until one is half awake; then he returns to the low note, and gradually raises his voice again until one is quite conscious. In Spanish times, wherever I went in the whole Archipelago--near the capital, or 500 miles from it--I found mothers teaching their offspring to regard the European as a demoniacal being, an evil spirit, or, at least, as an enemy to be feared! If a child cried, it was hushed by the exclamation, "Castila!" (European). If a white man approached a poor hut or a fine native residence, the cry of caution, the watchword for defence was always heard--"Castila!"--and the children hastened their retreat from the dreaded object. But this is now a thing of the past since the native crossed swords with the "Castila" (q.v.) and the American on the battle-field, and, rightly or wrongly, thoroughly believes himself to be a match for either in equal numbers. The Filipino, like most Orientals, is a good imitator, but having no initiative genius, he is not efficient in anything. He will copy a model any number of times, but one cannot get him to make two copies so much alike that the one is undistinguishable from the other. Yet he has no attachment for any occupation in particular. To-day he will be at the plough; to-morrow a coachman, a collector of accounts, a valet, a sailor, and so on; or he will suddenly renounce social trammels in pursuit of lawless vagabondage. I once travelled with a Colonel Marques, acting-Governor of Cebu, whose valet was an ex-law student. Still, many are willing to learn, and really become very expert artisans, especially machinists.