Poor Vic had to endure a running fire of
questions as to what I was going to do with my birds and butterflies,
but to judge by the way he lectured on me, he no doubt enjoyed it,
and possibly told them some wonderful yarns about "My English," as
he called me. One day a man at work in the maize had a bad attack of
"calenturas" (malarial fever). I gave him some quinine and Epsom salts
and this treatment evidently had a good effect, as the next day I was,
besieged by a regular crowd of Filipinos of both sexes, who wished to
consult me as to their various ills, and Vic was called in to act as
interpreter. A good many of them, both men and women, took off nearly
all their clothes to show me bruises and sores that they had, and I
was in despair as to what treatment to recommend. At last when one
old woman had parted with most of her little clothing to show me some
sores, I told Vic to tell her that she had better get a good wash in
the river (as she was the reverse of clean). This prescription raised
a laugh, but the old lady was furious, and my medical advice was not
again asked for. After the maize was cut, the owner started to sow
a fresh crop without even taking out the old stalks, which had been
cut off a few inches from the ground.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101