Manila, P. I., October 26, 1898.

The weather has been noticeably cooler, which is a blessing. We haven’t taken out our furs yet, but the other night, in a hard rain-storm, I pulled my blanket over me. This envelope was addressed. some time ago, when I was planning to construct a Spanish letter. I began, “ Cara Mia,” only to find a day or two later that cara was “costly,” and not the kind of “dear” I wanted. In other words, I got out beyond my depth in flowing Spanish, and letter-writing is postponed for the present. I find, though, that my colloquial Spanish is progressing well. My vocabulary is about on a par with the Filipinos’ talk, and I really surprise myself the way I can rattle on with the simple natives. When it comes to talking with educated Spaniards, it is a different matter. In explaining the American government I get completely swamped. The other morning General H——— handed me over a letter he had received, and said, “Read that.” I thought he simply meant me to look it through as a matter of interest, but when I finished he wanted it translated to him. I sat down with the dictionary and looked up the dozen words I couldn’t guess at, and at last gave him a sensible though inelegant translation. The letter was a trifle puzzling, as it was written by a native in Spanish with Togali [Tagalog] spelling. I still have a thing or two to learn before I apply for any of the interpreters’ positions. The inclosed ticket and programme of the Filipino theater may interest you. Riordan, an assistant engineer civilian, took me last night to the circus. It was really good. The native tumbling was well done. I send you by this mail a roll of Spanish and American Manila papers. I am not proud of the latter kind, but a little talent may be developed in the future. I don’t feel a bit like an A.B., or B.A., is it? Perhaps when I have. seen the sheepskin may swell a trifle on the strength of my liberal education.

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