It is the tenth of November, the eve of the fiesta to be celebrated in the town of San Diego. Departing from its habitual monotony, the town is displaying extraordinary activity in the church, houses, streets, cock-pit, and the fields. Windows are draped with flags and many-colored decorations. Music and the sound of exploding fireworks fill the air. Everywhere there is rejoicing.

In the streets at fixed intervals, beautiful arches of bamboo are raised, the wood carved and worked in a thousand different ways. The arches are surrounded with ornaments, the very sight of which brings joy to the heart of the small boy. In the church yard, a large and costly awning has been erected. It is propped up by bamboo poles and so arranged that the procession may pass under it. Under its shade the children play, run, jump, fall and otherwise manage to tear and soil their new shirts, which have been intended for the day of the festival.

In the public square a platform has been built of bamboo, nipa and boards, to serve as the stage. It is here that the comedy company from Tondo will tell wonderful tales, and will compete with the gods in the performance of miracles. Here Marianito, Chananay, Balbino, Ratia, Carvajal, Yeyeng, Liceria and the others will sing and dance. The Filipino loves the theatre, and always attends dramatic productions with a great deal of pleasure. The gobernadorcillo was very fond of the theatre, and, with the advice of the curate, he had selected for the fiesta the fantastic comedy: “Prince Villardo, or the Nails Pulled Out of the Infamous Cave,” a play full of magic and fireworks.

From time to time the bells ring out their merry sounds. Firecrackers and the booming of little cannon rend the air. The Filipino pyrotechnist, who has learned his art without a teacher of any renown, displays his skill, setting up pieces representing towers, castles, and the like. Already the small boys are running at break-neck speed toward the outskirts of the town to meet the bands of music. Five organizations have been hired, besides three orchestras.

A band enters the town playing lively marches, and is followed by a lot of ragged and half naked pickaninnies: this one, perhaps, has on his brother’s shirt; that one, his father’s trousers. As soon as the music stops, these little tots know by memory the piece that has been played; they whistle and hum it with great delight, showing at this early age their musical talent.

In the meantime wagons and carriages arrive, bringing relatives, friends, and strangers. Gamblers are also on hand with their best fighting cocks and bags of money, ready to risk their fortunes on the green cloth or in the cock-pit.

“The alferez gets fifty dollars a night,” murmured a little, chubby man when he heard of the recent arrivals, for there were already many rumors that these people bribed the officer so that they might not be interfered with by the law. “Captain Tiago,” he added, “is going to come and will be banker in the monte game. Captain Joaquin brings eighteen thousand. There is going to be a liam-po,1 and the Chino Carlos is going to back it with ten thousand pesos capital. Big bettors will come from Tanauan, Lipa, and Batangas, as well as from Santa Cruz. It’s going to be great! It’s going to be great! This year Captain Tiago will not skin us as he has in the past, for he has not paid for more than three masses this year, and besides, I have a mutya2 of cacao. And how are all the family?”

“Very well, very well, thank you!” replied the visitors from the country.

But the place where the greatest animation reigns, where there is almost a tumult, is over there on the level piece of ground, a short distance from Ibarra’s house. Pulleys creak, and the place resounds with the sound of the hammer, the chiseling of stones, hewing of beams and the shouting of voices. A gang of workmen is making an excavation which will be wide and deep; others are busy piling up quarry stone, unloading carts, sifting sand, putting a capstan in place and so on.

“Put that here! That, there! Come, be lively about it!” shouts a little, old man with an animated and intelligent physiognomy as he goes about, a yard stick and plumb line in hand. He is the director of the work, Ñor Juan, architect, mason, carpenter, whitewasher, locksmith, painter, stone cutter, and, on occasion, sculptor.

“We must finish it immediately! To-morrow nothing can be done, and day after to-morrow the ceremony of laying the corner stone is to take place! Come, be lively!”

“Make the hole just large enough for this cylinder!” said he to one of the stone cutters who was chiseling off a large quadrangular stone. “Inside of this our names will be kept.”

Then he would repeat to every countryman who came along what he had already said a thousand times: “Do you know what we are going to build? Well, it is a school house, a model of its kind, something like those in Germany, but still better. The architect, SeÑor R., draughted the plans and I, I am in charge of the work. Yes, sir, you see this is going to be a regular palace with two wings, one for the boys and one for the girls. Here in the middle is to be a large garden with three fountains. There, on the sides, groves, where the children can sow and cultivate plants during the hours of recreation, thus improving the time. Just see how deep the foundations are to be: three meters and seventy-five centimeters. The building is going to have a cellar where the indolent pupils will be confined. This will be very close to the playing ground and the gymnasium, so that those who are punished may hear the diligent pupils enjoying themselves. Do you see this large space? Well, this will be a place for them to run and jump. The girls will have a separate garden with benches, swings, a special place for jumping the rope and rolling hoops, fountains and a bird-house. This is going to be magnificent!”

He kept going from one end to the other, inspecting everything and passing his opinion on all.

“I find that you have got too much lumber here for a crane,” said he to a yellowish-looking fellow, who was directing some other laborers. “I would have enough, with three large beams, to form the tripod and with three others to serve as supporters.”

“O, pshaw!” replied the other, smiling in a peculiar way. “The more apparatus we give ourselves, the greater effect we will produce. The massiveness of it will make a bigger show and give it more importance. They will say: ‘What a lot of work has been done!’ You look at that crane that I am constructing. In a little while, I am going to ornament it with banderolas, garlands of flowers and leaves, and ... you will say afterward that you were right in hiring me, and SeÑor Ibarra cannot wish for more than that!”

The man laughed. Ñor Juan also smiled and shook his head.

As a matter of fact, the plan for the school had been approved by everybody and all were talking about it. The curate had asked to be allowed to be one of the patrons of the enterprise and he himself was to bless the laying of the corner stone, a ceremony which would take place on the last day of the San Diego festival, as it was considered one of the great solemnities.

The dismal presentiments of the old Tasio seemed to have been dissipated forever. One day Ibarra told the old man so, but the old pessimist only replied: “Things may go well at first, but be on your guard against masked enemies.”