At last the day came when Francisco had completed his course in the provincial school and was ready to receive his certificate of graduation. The term closed on the twenty-seventh of March, and the principal had arranged for a great “fiesta” in honor of the occasion, consisting of music and addresses in the morning, athletic exercises in the afternoon, and a grand “baile” at night.

A temporary stage, erected by the boys of the manual training classes, was placed at the north end of the plaza, and long before the appointed hour the square was filled with gayly dressed women, and men in the whitest of suits, who walked about under the trees or sat on the green grass to await the commencement exercises.

Promptly at ten o’clock the procession issued from the front door of the schoolhouse, filed into the plaza, and took seats on the stage. The graduates sat in the center, the chief officials on their right, and the faculty of the school on their left. The school orchestra was stationed just in front of the stage, and as they finished playing “America,” the padre in his long black gown stepped forward and offered a short prayer, speaking in Bicol and Spanish so that his hearers might understand and follow him. Then came short addresses by the governor of the province, the major commanding the United States troops stationed at that post, the presidente of the town, and the division superintendent of schools, after which the principal presented the graduates with their certificates. Every one rose and stood while the orchestra played “The Star-Spangled Banner,” and Francisco’s high school days were at an end.

During the month of April, he remained at home getting ready to leave, for in May he was to sail for Manila, visit a month with Pablo, and then enter the Philippine Normal School. He had never been so far away before, and he looked forward with delightful anticipation to his trip by steamer to the capital city of the islands. The time for departure came at last, the good-byes were all said, and Francisco found himself established on board the steam-ship Venus, ready to sail. At six o’clock the last bale of abaca had been stowed away in the hold, the hatches were closed, the anchor was lifted, and the voyage began. Francisco watched the familiar mountains and valleys of Albay province fade into the distance as the Venus rounded the outer headlands of the bay and made for the straits of San Bernardino (B?r-nÄr-dÏ'-no).

The moon shone brightly that night, and he remained on deck until late, watching the water glow with phosphorescence as the boat plowed through it, and thinking of the unexplored world that lay before him. He could still see the huge bulk of Mount Mayon standing out clear against the sky, and he felt as if it were the only friend remaining in the midst of so many strange sights and sounds.

It is pleasant to travel on the tranquil inland seas of the Philippines, where cool breezes temper the heat of the tropical sun, and where land is always in sight. Flying fish dart out of the water as the vessel approaches them, skimming along the surface of the sea like birds, before diving back again into its depths. Shoals of porpoises appear from time to time and swim along with the boat, leaping out of the water and playing in apparent enjoyment of life. Such experiences were new to Francisco, for he had never been on the sea before, and he enjoyed every detail of his trip.

After two days of travel they passed the island of Corregidor (Cor-re_'-hÏ-dor), which guards the entrance to the immense bay of Manila. A few hours later they had covered the remaining thirty miles of their journey and were steaming slowly past Fort Santiago (Sa?nt-iÄ'-go) and up the Pasig River to a wharf just below the Bridge of Spain, where the boat was made fast and the passengers went ashore.

Manila is one of the most interesting cities in the world, not only because it is the meeting place of the Far East and the Far West, but also because the present and the remote past are to be found side by side, and such excellent opportunity is offered for the study of history at first hand. Here may be found stone walls that were built at the close of the sixteenth century; and within a stone’s throw are structures erected according to the latest methods of working with steel and concrete. Almost every language known to man may be heard on the streets and in the shops, and the Filipino, the Japanese, the Chinese, and the East Indian rub elbows with the American, the European, and the African as they all move along the crowded narrow streets.

Francisco found that he must depend upon his knowledge of the English language in order to make his way in Manila; he knew very little Spanish, and his native tongue, Bicol, was almost useless. The Filipinos in this part of the islands speak a language called Tagalog (Ta?-gal'-o?g), which is strikingly different from Bicol. For example, if Francisco wanted a banana he would call for a “batag” (bÄ'-tÄg), but the Manila Filipinos would probably not understand him, as their word for banana is “saging” (sÄ'-ging). Due to the widespread influence of the American schools, one can find English spoken in even remote parts of the Philippines, and hence in spite of sixty different native languages, the people now have a common method of speech which can be understood in all sections of the islands.

Manila is a city of churches. There are scores of them in all parts of the city, and many of the older ones are worth visiting for their beauty of decoration, for their interesting bamboo organs, or for their historical connections. Those of the Jesuits and the Dominicans (Do-min'-i-cans) are the most beautiful, having a great wealth of gold, silver, and marble, many statues and paintings, and fine wood carvings to adorn altars, pulpits, and chapels. The oldest church is that of the Augustinians (Aug-ust-in'-ians), built in 1599, and the skill of its builders is shown by the fact that it has escaped the fury of the numerous earthquakes from which Manila has suffered. Legaspi, the first of the Spanish governors of the Philippines, is buried back of the altar of this church.

Manila consists of several distinct districts, each with its own peculiarities. That part of the city within the walls is the oldest part, and is called “Intramuros” (In-trÄ-mu'-ros), or the walled city. Here the streets are narrow and the houses are of the old Spanish style, closely walled, with barred windows below, the second floor extending a short distance out over the sidewalk. The oldest churches are to be found within the walled city, and here also are the great cathedral and the government offices.

The wall, built about 1590 for defense against invaders, is very suggestive of the time of knights in armor; the moat that formerly surrounded the wall has been drained for sanitary reasons, but the old bridges and gates are still used, and a few Spanish cannon can be seen still mounted on the battlements. Of course masonry built in the sixteenth century would offer small resistance to the guns of the present day, but the fortifications are allowed to remain as interesting reminders of the times that are gone.

Just outside of the walled city is the Luneta (Lu-ne'-ta?), a beautiful driveway and park at the bay’s edge, where the people of Manila walk or drive in the evening. Here they may enjoy the cool breezes from the sea and listen to the band concerts, which are given several times each week. The electric cars pass the Luneta, and excellent drives leading to it from various directions make it easy for all to enjoy this public park.

The districts of Ermita (?r-mÏ'-tÄ) and Malate (Ma?-lÄ'-te) are occupied chiefly by residences, while Binondo (Bi-non'-do) is the business section of Manila. Here may be found business houses of all sorts,—American soda fountains, Spanish clothiers, English bankers, French restaurants, and Japanese curio dealers, with a miscellaneous collection of Filipinos, Chinese, and other races who make a living by trade.

Francisco found much to occupy his time during the month he had for sightseeing. He visited not only the points of interest in Manila, but made excursions to near-by places,—to Fort McKinley, where the United States troops are quartered, for a railroad trip on the Manila and Dagupan (Da?-gu'-pa?n) railroad (Francisco’s first railroad experience), and up the Pasig River by motor boat,—all of them delightful and interesting to him.

But at length his vacation came to an end, as all good vacations do, and early in June he began his work in school again. We have followed him throughout his common school life; we must leave him here, just entering the front door of the Philippine Normal School, and in return for his graceful bow and courteous “AdiÓs” (Ä-di-os') we must offer our equally courteous “Good-bye.”