116 THE PIvANT WORLD 



It is interesting to note that in the Spanish West Indies the common 

 name for the sweet orange is " china." 



Friday, December 22. — To-day an old lady came to me in great trouble. 

 Her pigs had been caught in a neighbor's garden and were in the pound. 

 Would n't the seiior forgive her the fine ; she had been very careful to 

 keep them at home ever since the Governor's order was published two 

 weeks ago. To-day she had to go to see a sick friend, and had left each 

 of them tied by one leg to a bed-post, but they had gotten loose in some 

 way, and the first she knew of it was when she was told that the police 

 had taken them. She was a poor woman, and would n't the kind sefior 

 pardon her this once — she had no money with which to pay the fine. To 

 be sure, in the time of the Spaniards the pigs and other animals were 

 seldom put in the pound — now even the poor chickens were restricted, 

 and the people were taking them to their ranches. It was very hard on 

 the poor. I explained to her that it was very hard on her neighbors to 

 work in their gardens and to have them scratched up by other people's 

 chickens or ruined by other people's animals. We had not made laws to 

 oppress but to benefit the people of Guam, and I could not remit the fine. 

 The old lady then burst into tears and said she did not see how she would 

 be able to get her pigs back, and her distress seemed so real that I felt 

 myself in danger of weakening. Then a happy thought struck me : 

 Here, Senora, ' ' I said, ' ' the fine must be paid ; but, if you will let me, 

 I will give you the money with which to pay it. " She took the half-peso, 

 but proceeded to cry harder than ever, tried to kiss my hand, and called 

 down all the blessings of Heaven on my head as she curtsied out of my 

 ofiice. I watched her as she crossed the plaza to the tribunal, behind 

 which the pigs were confined. She seemed fairly to skip, and I must 

 confess that the pleasure I felt in the good soul's joy was worth much 

 more to me than the half -peso. After all, I suppose most acts of charity 

 are simply forms of selfishness. 



I some times feel that I never was intended to be a judge. It is easy 

 enough to make laws for the good of the community. For me it is some 

 times very hard to inflict punishment on those who violate them. The 

 other morning just as I was finishing my breakfast I heard a tap at my 

 door, and a little boy came in upon his knees, crying as though his heart 

 would break. He came up to me and tried to kiss my hand. " What is 

 the matter, little man?" I asked, " Grace ! Grace ! " he sobbed (and 

 I never in my life felt such an odd sensation as at that moment), " Seiior, 

 they have my papa in the prison ; and I came to ask you to let him come 

 home." "Who is your father?" I asked, with a lump in my throat 

 and a stinging sensation about my eyes. "Anderson, sefior — Juan An- 

 derson, the man who shot the pig for eating his corn." Then I remem- 

 bered the report made to me of a man who had killed a pig for having 



