par two or three times over. On the shady side of every street could be seen little knots of men eagerly awaiting the outcome of a battle in which these kings among all the fowl tribe were engaged. And the victory was not decided without great loss, for frequently the champion proclaimed himself conqueror by mounting the gory body of his late enemy and crowing with great vigor. Men bet on their favorites with as much fervor as an ardent proselyte of Mohammed utters praises to his Maker from the housetop at sunrise.

But even this pastime was too tame for the restless nature which constantly pined for the more exciting fun of America. So the chicken stock suddenly declined in value, and that of the swine took a corresponding rise, when there was talk of organizing a football association. This plan, however, lost its popularity after several practices on the "Gridiron"—the climate of Luzon had its drawbacks when it came to punting the pigskin. The requirements for a good football game are a temperature of 6 degrees below zero, and a field covered with a four-inch layer of snow and a corresponding thickness of soft mud underneath. As the Philippines are sadly deficient in the first two articles, it was decided to drop "Rugby" in favor of baseball.

Throughout the Eighth Army Corps this proposition was received with great warmth. Every organization had its team. Some influential men of Manila offered inducements to the winning nine; the American Commercial Company agreed to present a silver cup to the team which could score the most points. Arrangements were made for matches, and rival teams soon met on the diamond at the Lunetta. Utah was not to be outdone even in baseball; any man who had ever played ball or looked at a diamond was invited to join the team, and after this liberal request, it took no great time for the battalion to put a pretty good organization into the field. Soon the husky farmers from Utah were pitted against the powerful "pumpkin rollers" from Nebraska, and the sturdy Pennsylvanians fought for honors with the Wyoming cowboys.

Those were pleasant hours when the sons of America met under the tropic sky on a foreign soil and exchanged friendly greeting in their national game. Not a follower of the "Stars and Stripes" was there but felt happier and prouder after such a day. Home seemed nearer by half than it ever had before. And the natives, too, came in for a share of the rejoicing; they liked to see the "Grande Americano" perform his antics with the ball; they, too, gathered in knots and talked and gesticulated and laughed and cheered. The irrepressible small boy was everywhere present, with his sarsaparilla, his peanuts and his slabs of cocoanut candy. There were those who made his trade profitable and those who preferred something of a more fiery nature. That also could be obtained for the asking.

So the games went on by the side of the great swelling sea, and the roll of the surf mingled with the merry tones of the players. Battles were fought and fields were won on the diamond and Utah carried the trophy away to America.

While there were some things which excited the curiosity, others which aroused the attention, and still others which seemed to rivet men's minds for a short time on certain subjects, yet they all paled into insignificance before the magic of that one word "Mail!"

On a quiet sultry day, when all nature except the sun seemed to be taking a rest and when nothing but the bugle call for dinner could prove that a spark of life remained in the barracks, the announcement that mail had arrived would transform that peaceful quiet building into an Eastern bazar, with all of its accessions. At the mention of that word the stolid sentry, pacing his beat with languid steps, instantly quickened into life; the motionless somnolent forms lying on the canvas cots sprang from their recumbent positions, strangely wide awake; the groups of men engaged in a social game of cards, instantly scattered for that new field of interest. The First Sergeant's office became a scene of the greatest activity. An eager, excited crowd gathered around; cheeks and noses were pressed against the iron grating, while the ear listened intently for familiar names. Happy was he who received a goodly supply.

"OLD GUARD FATIGUE" AT THE CUARTEL.

There were those who turned away crestfallen and disappointed, there were others who remained behind and hungrily eyed their more fortunate comrades, as they knew they had no loved ones to write to them. When the mail had been distributed the barracks again relapsed into silence, but it was a wide awake silence, not a sultry, oppressive one. Then was reading of letters which told of love and friendship and hope; then were familiar scenes brought before the imagination to renew acquaintances which had begun to grow dim; then were sighs heard for dear home and mother. Newspapers and magazines were not unpopular. The letters read, then the papers were devoured. Long articles, short articles, advertisements and pictures were consumed with equal eagerness, and when every visible portion had been absorbed they were held up to the light to see if they contained anything on the inside. Such was mail day in Manila, and the story proceeds.

In the early days of barrack life, men talked of returning home to celebrate Thanksgiving, but after October had begun to decline it became evident that these fond hopes were not to be realized.

Then the inventive Yankee proceeded to devise means to give thanks in the good old fashioned way in spite of climate and strange country. The Luzon turkey in all respects does not compare favorably with his American cousin, yet he is "turkey," and that goes a great way when it comes to celebrating Thanksgiving.

It was upon this peculiar species of the feathered race that the batterymen fastened their attentions. Turkeys were secured, and they served as a nucleus about which all preparations centered. Several weeks prior to the gala day most elaborate arrangements were made. The soldiers gathered in knots and discussed the coming event. It had a particular interest with them as they anticipated something more palatable than the ordinary "hardtack and slum-gullion." Nor were their expectations disappointed, for, when the day came in all its glory, the commissary had proved itself equal to the occasion. All the powers of the culinary art had been brought to bear upon the leathery tendons of this turkey of the East. It had been fried and flayed until the very air of the barracks became aromatic with its savor. Even the hungry natives scented the perfumed air and gathered at the entrances to inspect the delicacies more closely.

At length the tables were prepared and the ravenous warriors seated themselves. Then were the victuals attacked with vigor; the enemy brought forth all his fighting force; he assaulted the front with deadly effect; simultaneously he attacked the flank and the rear; he cut, he hacked, he slashed, he dissected and tore, until there was nothing left of his victim but the skeleton, and even this he eyed ravenously. Of course there were pies and cakes and cranberries and fruits and greens and vegetables, and they, too, suffered. Of the squash family there were not a few, the favorite pumpkin was wanting, but then the lack of it had been long since supplied by the desiccated potato, and the consumer felt no secret pangs at its absence. Thus Thanksgiving passed on and Christmas came with its bevy of holiday boxes, and its "Peace on earth good will to men;" but while the American was still thinking of the light of peace, there came the low