"Ddee cao hes trrree legs!"
"Hao menny ligs? Hao menny ligs? Dee cao hes trree ligs? Count! Count! Wan, too-a, trrrree, four! Dee cao hes four ligs. Wow! 'Sus-Maria-Joseph!"
From the first she had taken an ardent liking for all American institutions. The liberty of women especially, as she gleaned it from her readings and from sundry discreet questions put to the Maestro, enchanted her.
"Señor Maestro, in America, the young ladies, they go out in the street, all alone?"
"Well, yes; it is considered all right for them to do so, in the West, at least."
"And they go out all alone?" she repeated, pensively, in the awed tone that we are taught to use in a cathedral or pantheon.
And, a few days later:
"Señor Maestro, in America, the young girls, they go out with young men, all alone?"
"Well, yes; that is—yes; it's considered all right for young people to walk together."
"And they go out, in the evening, when the moon is shining, and walk together?"
"Well, yes, some do. You see, it's very different in America from the Philippines. You see, in America, the young men and women are more like brothers and sisters."
