Unofficial letters of an official's wife [by] Edith Moses.

AN OFFICIAL'S WIFE

forming the town of Baguio. The view from the
sanitarium windows reminds me of a deserted mining camp in California, for the soil is red, and it is
all seamed and scarred where the roadways have
been cut in the hillside. It is a pity that the main
buildings of the sanitarium are built here. There
are so many beautiful places elsewhere for building
sites. The government cottages will be placed behind the main sanitarium on a hill in the pines.
BAGUIO, April I2, I902.
T seems as if we had always lived in Baguio; we
have settled down to life here in the most surprising way. The sanitarium contains three bedrooms and a living room. There is one big room
downstairs, where the men sleep, screened off from
one another by sheets. We have hospital beds and
mattresses, and nice soft new blankets. The rest
of the furniture is made of boxes, and in the dining
room are chairs and a table. Our sideboard is literally a side board. On the porch are rocking
chairs and willow steamer chairs. The household
consists of six grown-up persons, three children, a
hospital steward, a corps man, and Morris, the
guide, who is called the King of the Igorrotes, he
knows so well how to manage them. We have an
Ilocano cook and assistant, and three little Igorrote
boys, who are the " cutest" little things you ever
saw. They are learning to sweep and wait on the
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