LIST OF SYNONYMS AND ANTONYMS
Words Synonyms Antonyms
1. abandon Resign Prosecute
2. ability power weakness
3. abduct kidnap surrender
4. abnormal irregular normality
5. above over below
6. abolish cancel approve
7. able capable incapable
8. abiding persistent temporary
9. accuse blame defend
10. before ahead after
11. bargain inexpensive expensiveness
12. belief faith doubt
13. benefit gain loss
14. brave Courageous cowardly
15. break pause continuation
16. busy active inactive
17. bore talker listener
18. calamity disaster tranquility
19. careful Meticulous Negligent
20. change transform stabilize
21. central interior exterior
22. capacity skill incompetence
23. charity Generosity Liberality
24. clean cleanse defile
25. choose select reject
26. cloudy dark bright
27. cold chilled hot
28. confirm settle repeal
29. danger Threat safety
30. decide conclude Vacillate
31. deadly fatal vital
32. delay hold accelerate
33. destroy ruin repair
34. develop expand obscure
35. dirty impure clean
36. dry Parched wet
37. earn merit forfeit
38. easy simple difficult
39. elegant Grandiose Mediocre
40. emotion feelings Insensibility
41. exact Precise inexact
42. excellent prime faulty
43. entire whole partial
44.enlarge increase decrease
45. eternal everlasting swift
46. emit eject ingest
47. famous Well-Known unknown
48. fat stout thin
49. final Finishing Beginning
50. fraud fake Probity
51. former ancient current
52. gay Cheerful Cheerless
53. gradual Moderate rapid
54. grasp hold release
55. hate dislike like
56. healthy strong weak
57. high tall low
58. hire employ fire
59. holy godly ungodly
60. humor fun Seriousness
61. heavy Burdensome light
62. hot Burning cold
63. idle Inactive active
64. include Involve exclude
65. insert Interject remove
66. innocent Guiltless guilty
67. kind tender harsh
68. known Familiar unknown
69. knowledge Wisdom ignorance
70. kill Murder Cause
71. large big small
72. lazy Slothful agile
73. leader guide follower
74. lie untruth truth
75. love liking disliking
76. lock arrest veil
77. melody harmony noise
78. modern new past
79. mild tender wild
80. modest humble showy
81. maintain uphold terminate
82. Mysterious Cryptic Apparent
83. new fresh old
84. native Natural alien
85. noble lofty mean
86. numerous various few
87.odd uneven even
88. organize order Disorganize
89. optimistic hopeful Pessimist
90. pain Ache relief
91. part join disjoin
92. pause stop continue
93. plain clear hidden
94. ready prepared unprepared
95. rough hard smooth
96. sharp Pointed rounded
97. slow gradual fast
98. spread distribute gather
99. universal entire sectional
100.vacant unoccupied occupied
1. abandon Resign Prosecute
2. ability power weakness
3. abduct kidnap surrender
4. abnormal irregular normality
5. above over below
6. abolish cancel approve
7. able capable incapable
8. abiding persistent temporary
9. accuse blame defend
10. before ahead after
11. bargain inexpensive expensiveness
12. belief faith doubt
13. benefit gain loss
14. brave Courageous cowardly
15. break pause continuation
16. busy active inactive
17. bore talker listener
18. calamity disaster tranquility
19. careful Meticulous Negligent
20. change transform stabilize
21. central interior exterior
22. capacity skill incompetence
23. charity Generosity Liberality
24. clean cleanse defile
25. choose select reject
26. cloudy dark bright
27. cold chilled hot
28. confirm settle repeal
29. danger Threat safety
30. decide conclude Vacillate
31. deadly fatal vital
32. delay hold accelerate
33. destroy ruin repair
34. develop expand obscure
35. dirty impure clean
36. dry Parched wet
37. earn merit forfeit
38. easy simple difficult
39. elegant Grandiose Mediocre
40. emotion feelings Insensibility
41. exact Precise inexact
42. excellent prime faulty
43. entire whole partial
44.enlarge increase decrease
45. eternal everlasting swift
46. emit eject ingest
47. famous Well-Known unknown
48. fat stout thin
49. final Finishing Beginning
50. fraud fake Probity
51. former ancient current
52. gay Cheerful Cheerless
53. gradual Moderate rapid
54. grasp hold release
55. hate dislike like
56. healthy strong weak
57. high tall low
58. hire employ fire
59. holy godly ungodly
60. humor fun Seriousness
61. heavy Burdensome light
62. hot Burning cold
63. idle Inactive active
64. include Involve exclude
65. insert Interject remove
66. innocent Guiltless guilty
67. kind tender harsh
68. known Familiar unknown
69. knowledge Wisdom ignorance
70. kill Murder Cause
71. large big small
72. lazy Slothful agile
73. leader guide follower
74. lie untruth truth
75. love liking disliking
76. lock arrest veil
77. melody harmony noise
78. modern new past
79. mild tender wild
80. modest humble showy
81. maintain uphold terminate
82. Mysterious Cryptic Apparent
83. new fresh old
84. native Natural alien
85. noble lofty mean
86. numerous various few
87.odd uneven even
88. organize order Disorganize
89. optimistic hopeful Pessimist
90. pain Ache relief
91. part join disjoin
92. pause stop continue
93. plain clear hidden
94. ready prepared unprepared
95. rough hard smooth
96. sharp Pointed rounded
97. slow gradual fast
98. spread distribute gather
99. universal entire sectional
100.vacant unoccupied occupied
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How My Brother Leon Brought Home A Wife
by Manuel Arguila
She stepped down from the carretela of Ca Celin with a quick, delicate grace. She was lovely. She was tall. She looked up to my brother with a smile, and her forehead was on a level with his mouth. "You are Baldo," she said and placed her hand lightly on my shoulder. Her nails were long, but they were not painted. She was fragrant like a morning when papayas are in bloom. And a small dimple appeared momently high on her right cheek. "And this is Labang of whom I have heard so much." She held the wrist of one hand with the other and looked at Labang, and Labang never stopped chewing his cud. He swallowed and brought up to his mouth more cud and the sound of his insides was like a drum. I laid a hand on Labang's massive neck and said to her: "You may scratch his forehead now." She hesitated and I saw that her eyes were on the long, curving horns. But she came and touched Labang's forehead with her long fingers, and Labang never stopped chewing his cud except that his big eyes half closed. And by and by she was scratching his forehead very daintily. My brother Leon put down the two trunks on the grassy side of the road. He paid Ca Celin twice the usual fare from the station to the edge of Nagrebcan. Then he was standing beside us, and she turned to him eagerly. I watched Ca Celin, where he stood in front of his horse, and he ran his fingers through its forelock and could not keep his eyes away from her. "Maria---" my brother Leon said. He did not say Maring. He did not say Mayang. I knew then that he had always called her Maria and that to us all she would be Maria; and in my mind I said 'Maria' and it was a beautiful name. "Yes, Noel." Now where did she get that name? I pondered the matter quietly to myself, thinking Father might not like it. But it was only the name of my brother Leon said backward and it sounded much better that way. "There is Nagrebcan, Maria," my brother Leon said, gesturing widely...
by Manuel Arguila
She stepped down from the carretela of Ca Celin with a quick, delicate grace. She was lovely. She was tall. She looked up to my brother with a smile, and her forehead was on a level with his mouth. "You are Baldo," she said and placed her hand lightly on my shoulder. Her nails were long, but they were not painted. She was fragrant like a morning when papayas are in bloom. And a small dimple appeared momently high on her right cheek. "And this is Labang of whom I have heard so much." She held the wrist of one hand with the other and looked at Labang, and Labang never stopped chewing his cud. He swallowed and brought up to his mouth more cud and the sound of his insides was like a drum. I laid a hand on Labang's massive neck and said to her: "You may scratch his forehead now." She hesitated and I saw that her eyes were on the long, curving horns. But she came and touched Labang's forehead with her long fingers, and Labang never stopped chewing his cud except that his big eyes half closed. And by and by she was scratching his forehead very daintily. My brother Leon put down the two trunks on the grassy side of the road. He paid Ca Celin twice the usual fare from the station to the edge of Nagrebcan. Then he was standing beside us, and she turned to him eagerly. I watched Ca Celin, where he stood in front of his horse, and he ran his fingers through its forelock and could not keep his eyes away from her. "Maria---" my brother Leon said. He did not say Maring. He did not say Mayang. I knew then that he had always called her Maria and that to us all she would be Maria; and in my mind I said 'Maria' and it was a beautiful name. "Yes, Noel." Now where did she get that name? I pondered the matter quietly to myself, thinking Father might not like it. But it was only the name of my brother Leon said backward and it sounded much better that way. "There is Nagrebcan, Maria," my brother Leon said, gesturing widely...
Malakas and MagandaCreation Myth
by Nestor Redondo
When the world first began, there was no land, only the sea and the sky, and between them was a crow. One day this bird, which has no where to land, grew tired of flying around, so she stirred up the sea until it threw its waters against the sky. The sky, in order to restrain the sea, showered upon it many islands until it could no longer raise but instead flow back and forth, making a tide. Then the sky ordered the crow to land on one of the islands to build her nest and to leave the sea and the sky in peace. From then on the crow lived peacefully, so as the other birds in islands between the sea and the sky.
Now at this time the land wind and the sea wind were married, and they had a child which was a bamboo. One day when this bamboo was floating beside the seashore when it struck the feet of the crow who was on the beach. Shocked, hurt and angered; the crow hysterically pecked at the bamboo until it split into two section, and out one section came out a man named Malakas (Strong), and from the other a woman named Maganda (Beautiful).
Then the earthquake called on all the birds and fishes to see what should be done with these two, and it was decided that they should marry. Many children were born to the couple, and from them came all the different races of people.
After a while the parents grew very tired of having so many idle and useless children around. They wished to be rid of them, but they knew of no place to send them. Time went on, and the children became so numerous that the parents enjoyed no peace. One day, in desperation, the father seized a stick and began beating them.
This so frightened the children that they fled in different directions, seeking hidden rooms in the house. Some concealed themselves in the walls, some ran outside, others hid in the earthen stove, and several fled to the sea.
Now it happened that those who went into the hidden rooms of the house later became the chiefs of the islands, and those who concealed themselves in the walls became slaves, while those who ran outside were free men. Those who hid in the stove became the dark-skinned and curled haired aetas or negritos. Those who fled to the sea were gone many years, and when their children came back, they were the foreigners.
by Nestor Redondo
When the world first began, there was no land, only the sea and the sky, and between them was a crow. One day this bird, which has no where to land, grew tired of flying around, so she stirred up the sea until it threw its waters against the sky. The sky, in order to restrain the sea, showered upon it many islands until it could no longer raise but instead flow back and forth, making a tide. Then the sky ordered the crow to land on one of the islands to build her nest and to leave the sea and the sky in peace. From then on the crow lived peacefully, so as the other birds in islands between the sea and the sky.
Now at this time the land wind and the sea wind were married, and they had a child which was a bamboo. One day when this bamboo was floating beside the seashore when it struck the feet of the crow who was on the beach. Shocked, hurt and angered; the crow hysterically pecked at the bamboo until it split into two section, and out one section came out a man named Malakas (Strong), and from the other a woman named Maganda (Beautiful).
Then the earthquake called on all the birds and fishes to see what should be done with these two, and it was decided that they should marry. Many children were born to the couple, and from them came all the different races of people.
After a while the parents grew very tired of having so many idle and useless children around. They wished to be rid of them, but they knew of no place to send them. Time went on, and the children became so numerous that the parents enjoyed no peace. One day, in desperation, the father seized a stick and began beating them.
This so frightened the children that they fled in different directions, seeking hidden rooms in the house. Some concealed themselves in the walls, some ran outside, others hid in the earthen stove, and several fled to the sea.
Now it happened that those who went into the hidden rooms of the house later became the chiefs of the islands, and those who concealed themselves in the walls became slaves, while those who ran outside were free men. Those who hid in the stove became the dark-skinned and curled haired aetas or negritos. Those who fled to the sea were gone many years, and when their children came back, they were the foreigners.
My Brother’s Pecular Chicken
by Alejandro R. Roces
My brother Kiko had a very peculiar chicken. It was very peculiar because no one could tell whether it was a rooster or a hen. My brother claimed it was a rooster. I claimed it was a hen. We almost got lynched trying to settle the argument.
The whole question began early one morning, while Kiko and I were driving the chickens from the cornfield. The corn had just been planted and the chickens were scratching the seed out for food. Suddenly we heard the rapid flapping of wings. We turned in the direction of the sound and saw the two chickens fighting the far end of the field. We could not see the birds clearly, as they were lunging at each other in a whirlwind of feathers and dust.
“Look at the rooster fight!|” my brother said pointing excitedly at one of the chickens. “Why, if I had a rooster like that I could get rich in the cockpit.”
“Let us go and catch it,” I suggested. “No, you stay here, I will go and catch it,” Kiko said, my brother slowly approached the battling chickens. They were so busy fighting that they did not notice him as he approached. When he got near them, he dived and caught one of them by the legs. It struggled and squawked. Kiko finally held it by both wings and it stood still. I ran over to where he was and took a good look at the chicken.
“Aba, it is a hen!” I said.
“What is the matter with you?” my brother asked. “Is the heat making you sick?”
“No, look at its head. It has no comb or wattles.”
“No comb or wattles! Who cares about its comb or wattles? Didn’t you see it fight?”
“Sure, I saw it fight, but I still say it is a hen.”
“A hen! Did you ever saw a hen with spurs like this? Or a hen with a tail like this?”
Kiko and I could not agree on what determines the sex of a chicken. If the animal in question had been a carabao it would have been simple. All we would have to do was to look at the carabao. We would have wasted no time at examining its tail, hooves, or horns. We would simply have looked at the animal straight in the face, and if it had a brass on its nose the carabao would undoubtedly be a bull. But chickens are not like carabaos. So the argument went on in the field and the whole morning.
At noon, we left to have our lunch. We argued about it on the way home. When we arrived at our house, Kiko tethered the chicken on a peg. The chicken flapped its wings – and then crowed.
“There! Did you hear that?” my brother exclaimed triumphantly. “I suppose you are going to tell me now that carabaos fly.”
“I do not care if it crows or not,” I said. “That chicken is a hen.”
We went in the house and the discussion continued during lunch.
“It is not a hen,” Kiko said. “It is a rooster.”
“It is a hen,” I said.
“It is not.”
“It is.”
“That’s enough!” Mother interrupted. “How many times must Father tell you boys not to argue during lunch?” What is the argument about this time?”
We told Mother and she went out to look at the chicken,
“The chicken”, she said, “is a binabae. It is a rooster that looks like a hen.”
That should have ended the argument. But Father also went to see the chicken and he said.
“No, Mother, you are wrong. That chicken is a binalake, a hen which looks like a rooster.”
“Have you been drinking again?” Mother asked.
“No,” Father answered.
“Then what makes you say that rooster is a hen? Have you ever seen a hen with feathers like that?”
“Listen. I have handled fighting roosters since I was a boy, and you cannot tell me that thing is a rooster.”
Before Kiko and I realized what had happened to Father and Mother were arguing about the chicken all by themselves. Soon Mother was crying. She always cried when argued with Father.
“You know well that it is a rooster,” she sobbed. “You are just being mean and stubborn.”
“I am sorry,” Father said. But I know a hen when I see one.”
Then he put his arms around Mother and called her corny names like my Reina Elenea, my Madonna and my Maria Clara. He always did that when Mother cried. Kiko and I felt embarrassed. We left the house without finishing our lunch.
“I know who can settle this question,” my brother said.
“Tenienteng Tasio.”
Tenienteng Tasio was the head of the village. I did not think that the chief of the village was the man who could solve a problem. For the chief was the barrio philosopher. By this I mean that he was a man who explained his strange views by even stranger reasons. For example, the chief frowned on cockfighting. Now many people object to rooster fighting, their reason being either that they think cockfighting is cruel or that they think gambling is bad. Neither of these was the chief’s reason. Cockfighting, he said was a waste of time because it has been proven that one gamecock can beat another.
The chief, however, had one merit. He was the oldest man in the barrio, and while this did not make him an ornithologist, still, we have to admit that anything said always carries more weight if it is said by a man with grey hairs. So when Kiko suggested consulting the teniente, I voiced no objection. I acquiesced to let him be the arbiter of our dispute. He untied the chicken and we both took it to the chief.
“Tenienteng Tasio, is this chicken a male or a female?” Kiko asked.
“That is a question that could concern only another chicken,” the chief replied.
Both Kiko and I were taken aback by this replication. But Kiko was obstinate, so he tried another approach.
“Look, teniente,” he said, “my brother and I happen to have a special interest in this particular chicken. Please give us an answer. Just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Is this a rooster?”
“It does not look like any rooster that I have ever seen,” said the teniente.
“It is a hen, then,” I said.
“It does not look like any hen that I have ever seen,” was the reply.
My brother and I were dumbfounded. For a long while we remained speechless. Then Teniente Tasio asked:
“Have you ever seen an animal like this before?”
Kiko and I had to admit that we hadn’t.
“Then how do you both know it is a chicken?”
“Well, what else could it be?” Kiko asked in turn.
“It could be another kind of bird.”
“Oh, God, no!” Kiko said.” Let’s go to town and see Mr. Cruz. He would know.”
Mr. Eduardo Cruz lived in the nearby town of Alcala. He had studied poultry husbandry at Los Baños, and he operated a large egg farm. When we got there Mr. Cruz was taking his siesta, so Kiko released the chicken in his yard.
The other chicken would not associate with ours. Not only did they keep as far away from it as they could, but they did not even seem to care to which sex it belonged. Unembarrassed by this, our chicken chased and disgraced several pullets.
“There!” my brother exclaimed.
“That should prove to you it is a rooster.”
“It proves nothing of the sort,” I said. “It only proves it has rooster instincts – but it could still be a hen.”
As soon as Mr. Cruz was up, we caught the chicken and took it to his office.
“Mr. Cruz,” Kiko said, “is this a hen or a rooster?”
Mr. Cruz looked at the bird curiously and then said:
“Hmmmm, I don’t know. I couldn’t tell at one look. I have never run across a biddy like this before.”
“Well, is there any way you can tell?”
“Why, sure. Look at the feathers on its back. If the ends are round, it’s a she. If they are pointed, then it is a he.”
The three of us examined its feathers closely. It had both!
“Hmm. Very peculiar,” said Mr. Cruz.
“Is there any other way you can tell?”
“I could kill it and examine its insides,”
“No, I don’t want it killed,” my brother said.
I took the plumed creature in my arms and we walked back to the barrio. Kiko was silent most of the way. Then suddenly he snapped his fingers and said:
“I know how I can prove to you that this is a rooster.”
“How?” I asked.
“Would you agree that this is a rooster if it fights in a cockpit – and it wins?”
“If this hen of yours can beat a gamecock, I would believe anything,” I said.
“All right,” he said, “we will take it to the cockpit this coming Sunday.”
So that Sunday we took the chicken to the cockpit. Kiko looked around for a suitable opponent and finally decided on a red rooster. I recognized the rooster as a veteran of the pit whose picture had once graced the cover of the gamecock magazine Pintakasi. It was also the chanticleer that had once escaped to the forest and lured all the hens away from the surrounding farms. Raising its serpent-liked head, the red rooster eyed the chicken arrogantly and jiggled its sickle feathers. This scared me. For I knew that when the gamecock is in breeding mood it is twice a ferocious.
“Do not pit your hen against the rooster,” I told Kiko. That the rooster is not a native chicken. It was brought over the from Texas.”
“That does not mean anything to me,” my brother said. “”My rooster will kill it.”
“Do not be a fool,” I said. “That red rooster is a killer. It has killed more chickens than the cholera. There is no rooster in this province that can take its gaff. Pick on a less formidable rooster.”
My brother would not listen. The match was made and the birds were headed for the killing. Sharp steel gaffs were tied to their left legs. Kiko bet eight pesos on his chicken. I only bet two. The odds were two to one. Then I said a tacit prayer to Santa Rita de Casia, patroness of the impossible.
Then the fight began. Both birds were released at the center of the arena. The Texan scratched the ground as if it were digging a grave for its opponent. Moments later, the two fighters confronted each other. I expected our rooster to die of fright. Instead, a strange thing happened. A lovesick expression came into the red rooster’s eyes. Then it did a love dance. Naturally, this was a most surprising incident to one and all, but particularly to those who had stakes on the Texas rooster. For it was evident that the Texan was thoroughly infatuated with our chicken and that any attention it had for the moment was strictly amatory. But before anyone could collect his wits our foul rushed at the red stag with its hackle feathers flaring. In one lunge, it buried its spur in its adversary’s breast. The fight was over! The sentencer raised our chicken in token victory.
“Tiope! Tiope! Fixed fight!” the crowed shouted.
Then a riot broke out. People tore the bamboo benches apart and used them as clubs. My brother and I had to leave through the back way. I had the chicken under my arm. We ran towards the coconut groves and we kept running till we lost the mob. As soon as we felt safe, we sat on the ground and rested. We were both panting like dogs.
“Now are you convinced it is a rooster?” Kiko muttered between breaths.
“Yes,” I answered.
I was glad the whole thing was over.
But the chicken had other ideas. It began to quiver. Then something round and warm dropped on to my hand. The chicken cackled with laughter. I looked down and saw – an egg!
by Alejandro R. Roces
My brother Kiko had a very peculiar chicken. It was very peculiar because no one could tell whether it was a rooster or a hen. My brother claimed it was a rooster. I claimed it was a hen. We almost got lynched trying to settle the argument.
The whole question began early one morning, while Kiko and I were driving the chickens from the cornfield. The corn had just been planted and the chickens were scratching the seed out for food. Suddenly we heard the rapid flapping of wings. We turned in the direction of the sound and saw the two chickens fighting the far end of the field. We could not see the birds clearly, as they were lunging at each other in a whirlwind of feathers and dust.
“Look at the rooster fight!|” my brother said pointing excitedly at one of the chickens. “Why, if I had a rooster like that I could get rich in the cockpit.”
“Let us go and catch it,” I suggested. “No, you stay here, I will go and catch it,” Kiko said, my brother slowly approached the battling chickens. They were so busy fighting that they did not notice him as he approached. When he got near them, he dived and caught one of them by the legs. It struggled and squawked. Kiko finally held it by both wings and it stood still. I ran over to where he was and took a good look at the chicken.
“Aba, it is a hen!” I said.
“What is the matter with you?” my brother asked. “Is the heat making you sick?”
“No, look at its head. It has no comb or wattles.”
“No comb or wattles! Who cares about its comb or wattles? Didn’t you see it fight?”
“Sure, I saw it fight, but I still say it is a hen.”
“A hen! Did you ever saw a hen with spurs like this? Or a hen with a tail like this?”
Kiko and I could not agree on what determines the sex of a chicken. If the animal in question had been a carabao it would have been simple. All we would have to do was to look at the carabao. We would have wasted no time at examining its tail, hooves, or horns. We would simply have looked at the animal straight in the face, and if it had a brass on its nose the carabao would undoubtedly be a bull. But chickens are not like carabaos. So the argument went on in the field and the whole morning.
At noon, we left to have our lunch. We argued about it on the way home. When we arrived at our house, Kiko tethered the chicken on a peg. The chicken flapped its wings – and then crowed.
“There! Did you hear that?” my brother exclaimed triumphantly. “I suppose you are going to tell me now that carabaos fly.”
“I do not care if it crows or not,” I said. “That chicken is a hen.”
We went in the house and the discussion continued during lunch.
“It is not a hen,” Kiko said. “It is a rooster.”
“It is a hen,” I said.
“It is not.”
“It is.”
“That’s enough!” Mother interrupted. “How many times must Father tell you boys not to argue during lunch?” What is the argument about this time?”
We told Mother and she went out to look at the chicken,
“The chicken”, she said, “is a binabae. It is a rooster that looks like a hen.”
That should have ended the argument. But Father also went to see the chicken and he said.
“No, Mother, you are wrong. That chicken is a binalake, a hen which looks like a rooster.”
“Have you been drinking again?” Mother asked.
“No,” Father answered.
“Then what makes you say that rooster is a hen? Have you ever seen a hen with feathers like that?”
“Listen. I have handled fighting roosters since I was a boy, and you cannot tell me that thing is a rooster.”
Before Kiko and I realized what had happened to Father and Mother were arguing about the chicken all by themselves. Soon Mother was crying. She always cried when argued with Father.
“You know well that it is a rooster,” she sobbed. “You are just being mean and stubborn.”
“I am sorry,” Father said. But I know a hen when I see one.”
Then he put his arms around Mother and called her corny names like my Reina Elenea, my Madonna and my Maria Clara. He always did that when Mother cried. Kiko and I felt embarrassed. We left the house without finishing our lunch.
“I know who can settle this question,” my brother said.
“Tenienteng Tasio.”
Tenienteng Tasio was the head of the village. I did not think that the chief of the village was the man who could solve a problem. For the chief was the barrio philosopher. By this I mean that he was a man who explained his strange views by even stranger reasons. For example, the chief frowned on cockfighting. Now many people object to rooster fighting, their reason being either that they think cockfighting is cruel or that they think gambling is bad. Neither of these was the chief’s reason. Cockfighting, he said was a waste of time because it has been proven that one gamecock can beat another.
The chief, however, had one merit. He was the oldest man in the barrio, and while this did not make him an ornithologist, still, we have to admit that anything said always carries more weight if it is said by a man with grey hairs. So when Kiko suggested consulting the teniente, I voiced no objection. I acquiesced to let him be the arbiter of our dispute. He untied the chicken and we both took it to the chief.
“Tenienteng Tasio, is this chicken a male or a female?” Kiko asked.
“That is a question that could concern only another chicken,” the chief replied.
Both Kiko and I were taken aback by this replication. But Kiko was obstinate, so he tried another approach.
“Look, teniente,” he said, “my brother and I happen to have a special interest in this particular chicken. Please give us an answer. Just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Is this a rooster?”
“It does not look like any rooster that I have ever seen,” said the teniente.
“It is a hen, then,” I said.
“It does not look like any hen that I have ever seen,” was the reply.
My brother and I were dumbfounded. For a long while we remained speechless. Then Teniente Tasio asked:
“Have you ever seen an animal like this before?”
Kiko and I had to admit that we hadn’t.
“Then how do you both know it is a chicken?”
“Well, what else could it be?” Kiko asked in turn.
“It could be another kind of bird.”
“Oh, God, no!” Kiko said.” Let’s go to town and see Mr. Cruz. He would know.”
Mr. Eduardo Cruz lived in the nearby town of Alcala. He had studied poultry husbandry at Los Baños, and he operated a large egg farm. When we got there Mr. Cruz was taking his siesta, so Kiko released the chicken in his yard.
The other chicken would not associate with ours. Not only did they keep as far away from it as they could, but they did not even seem to care to which sex it belonged. Unembarrassed by this, our chicken chased and disgraced several pullets.
“There!” my brother exclaimed.
“That should prove to you it is a rooster.”
“It proves nothing of the sort,” I said. “It only proves it has rooster instincts – but it could still be a hen.”
As soon as Mr. Cruz was up, we caught the chicken and took it to his office.
“Mr. Cruz,” Kiko said, “is this a hen or a rooster?”
Mr. Cruz looked at the bird curiously and then said:
“Hmmmm, I don’t know. I couldn’t tell at one look. I have never run across a biddy like this before.”
“Well, is there any way you can tell?”
“Why, sure. Look at the feathers on its back. If the ends are round, it’s a she. If they are pointed, then it is a he.”
The three of us examined its feathers closely. It had both!
“Hmm. Very peculiar,” said Mr. Cruz.
“Is there any other way you can tell?”
“I could kill it and examine its insides,”
“No, I don’t want it killed,” my brother said.
I took the plumed creature in my arms and we walked back to the barrio. Kiko was silent most of the way. Then suddenly he snapped his fingers and said:
“I know how I can prove to you that this is a rooster.”
“How?” I asked.
“Would you agree that this is a rooster if it fights in a cockpit – and it wins?”
“If this hen of yours can beat a gamecock, I would believe anything,” I said.
“All right,” he said, “we will take it to the cockpit this coming Sunday.”
So that Sunday we took the chicken to the cockpit. Kiko looked around for a suitable opponent and finally decided on a red rooster. I recognized the rooster as a veteran of the pit whose picture had once graced the cover of the gamecock magazine Pintakasi. It was also the chanticleer that had once escaped to the forest and lured all the hens away from the surrounding farms. Raising its serpent-liked head, the red rooster eyed the chicken arrogantly and jiggled its sickle feathers. This scared me. For I knew that when the gamecock is in breeding mood it is twice a ferocious.
“Do not pit your hen against the rooster,” I told Kiko. That the rooster is not a native chicken. It was brought over the from Texas.”
“That does not mean anything to me,” my brother said. “”My rooster will kill it.”
“Do not be a fool,” I said. “That red rooster is a killer. It has killed more chickens than the cholera. There is no rooster in this province that can take its gaff. Pick on a less formidable rooster.”
My brother would not listen. The match was made and the birds were headed for the killing. Sharp steel gaffs were tied to their left legs. Kiko bet eight pesos on his chicken. I only bet two. The odds were two to one. Then I said a tacit prayer to Santa Rita de Casia, patroness of the impossible.
Then the fight began. Both birds were released at the center of the arena. The Texan scratched the ground as if it were digging a grave for its opponent. Moments later, the two fighters confronted each other. I expected our rooster to die of fright. Instead, a strange thing happened. A lovesick expression came into the red rooster’s eyes. Then it did a love dance. Naturally, this was a most surprising incident to one and all, but particularly to those who had stakes on the Texas rooster. For it was evident that the Texan was thoroughly infatuated with our chicken and that any attention it had for the moment was strictly amatory. But before anyone could collect his wits our foul rushed at the red stag with its hackle feathers flaring. In one lunge, it buried its spur in its adversary’s breast. The fight was over! The sentencer raised our chicken in token victory.
“Tiope! Tiope! Fixed fight!” the crowed shouted.
Then a riot broke out. People tore the bamboo benches apart and used them as clubs. My brother and I had to leave through the back way. I had the chicken under my arm. We ran towards the coconut groves and we kept running till we lost the mob. As soon as we felt safe, we sat on the ground and rested. We were both panting like dogs.
“Now are you convinced it is a rooster?” Kiko muttered between breaths.
“Yes,” I answered.
I was glad the whole thing was over.
But the chicken had other ideas. It began to quiver. Then something round and warm dropped on to my hand. The chicken cackled with laughter. I looked down and saw – an egg!
The Boy Who Became a Stone
by Tinguian
One day a little boy named Elonen sat out in the yard making a bird snare, and as he worked, a little bird called to him: "Tik-tik-lo-den" (come and catch me).
"I am making a snare for you," said the boy; but the bird continued to call until the snare was finished.
Then Elonen ran and threw the snare over the bird and caught it, and he put it in a jar in his house while he went with the other boys to swim.
While he was away, his grandmother grew hungry, so she ate the bird, and when Elonen returned and found that his bird was gone, he was so sad that he wished he might go away and never come back. He went out into the forest and walked a long distance, until finally he came to a big stone and said: "Stone, open your mouth and eat me." And the stone opened its mouth and swallowed the boy.
When his grandmother missed the boy, she went out and looked everywhere, hoping to find him. Finally she passed near the stone and it cried out: "Here he is." Then the old woman tried to open the stone but she could not, so she called the horses to come and help her. They came and kicked it, but it would not break. Then she called the carabao and they hooked it, but they only broke their horns. She called the chickens, which pecked it, and the thunder, which shook it, but nothing could open it, and she had to go home without the boy.
by Tinguian
One day a little boy named Elonen sat out in the yard making a bird snare, and as he worked, a little bird called to him: "Tik-tik-lo-den" (come and catch me).
"I am making a snare for you," said the boy; but the bird continued to call until the snare was finished.
Then Elonen ran and threw the snare over the bird and caught it, and he put it in a jar in his house while he went with the other boys to swim.
While he was away, his grandmother grew hungry, so she ate the bird, and when Elonen returned and found that his bird was gone, he was so sad that he wished he might go away and never come back. He went out into the forest and walked a long distance, until finally he came to a big stone and said: "Stone, open your mouth and eat me." And the stone opened its mouth and swallowed the boy.
When his grandmother missed the boy, she went out and looked everywhere, hoping to find him. Finally she passed near the stone and it cried out: "Here he is." Then the old woman tried to open the stone but she could not, so she called the horses to come and help her. They came and kicked it, but it would not break. Then she called the carabao and they hooked it, but they only broke their horns. She called the chickens, which pecked it, and the thunder, which shook it, but nothing could open it, and she had to go home without the boy.
The Carabao and the Shell
by Tinguian
One very hot day, when a carabao went into the river to bathe, he met a shell and they began talking together.
"You are very slow," said the carabao to the shell.
"Oh, no," replied the shell. "I can beat you in a race."
"Then let us try and see," said the carabao.
So they went out on the bank and started to run.
After the carabao had gone a long distance he stopped and called, "Shell!"
And another shell lying by the river answered, "Here I am!"
Then the carabao, thinking that it was the same shell with which he was racing, ran on.
By and by he stopped again and called, "Shell!"
And another shell answered, "Here I am!"
The carabao was surprised that the shell could keep up with him. But he ran on and on, and every time he stopped to call, another shell answered him. But he was determined that the shell should not beat him, so he ran until he dropped dead.
by Tinguian
One very hot day, when a carabao went into the river to bathe, he met a shell and they began talking together.
"You are very slow," said the carabao to the shell.
"Oh, no," replied the shell. "I can beat you in a race."
"Then let us try and see," said the carabao.
So they went out on the bank and started to run.
After the carabao had gone a long distance he stopped and called, "Shell!"
And another shell lying by the river answered, "Here I am!"
Then the carabao, thinking that it was the same shell with which he was racing, ran on.
By and by he stopped again and called, "Shell!"
And another shell answered, "Here I am!"
The carabao was surprised that the shell could keep up with him. But he ran on and on, and every time he stopped to call, another shell answered him. But he was determined that the shell should not beat him, so he ran until he dropped dead.
THE CREATION
by Igorot
In the beginning there were no people on the earth. Lumawig, 93 the Great Spirit, came down from the sky and cut many reeds. 94 He divided these into pairs which he placed in different parts of the world, and then he said to them, "You must speak." Immediately the reeds became people, and in each place was a man and a woman who could talk, but the language of each couple differed from that of the others.
Then Lumawig commanded each man and woman to marry, which they did. By and by there were many children, all speaking the same language as their parents. These, in turn, married and had many children. In this way there came to be many people on the earth.
Now Lumawig saw that there were several things which the people on the earth needed to use, so he set to work to supply them. He created salt, and told the inhabitants of one place to boil it down and sell it to their neighbors. But these people could not understand the directions of the Great Spirit, and the next time he visited them, they had not touched the salt.
Then he took it away from them and gave it to the people of a place called Mayinit. 95 These did as he directed, and because of this he told them that they should always be owners of the salt, and that the other peoples must buy of them.
Then Lumawig went to the people of Bontoc and told them to get clay and make pots. They got the clay, but they did not understand the moulding, and the jars were not well shaped. Because of their failure, Lumawig told them that they would always have to buy their jars, and he removed the pottery to Samoki. 96 When he told the people there what to do, they did just as he said, and their jars were well shaped and beautiful. Then the Great Spirit saw that they were fit owners of the pottery, and he told them that they should always make many jars to sell.
In this way Lumawig taught the people and brought to them all the things which they now have.
by Igorot
In the beginning there were no people on the earth. Lumawig, 93 the Great Spirit, came down from the sky and cut many reeds. 94 He divided these into pairs which he placed in different parts of the world, and then he said to them, "You must speak." Immediately the reeds became people, and in each place was a man and a woman who could talk, but the language of each couple differed from that of the others.
Then Lumawig commanded each man and woman to marry, which they did. By and by there were many children, all speaking the same language as their parents. These, in turn, married and had many children. In this way there came to be many people on the earth.
Now Lumawig saw that there were several things which the people on the earth needed to use, so he set to work to supply them. He created salt, and told the inhabitants of one place to boil it down and sell it to their neighbors. But these people could not understand the directions of the Great Spirit, and the next time he visited them, they had not touched the salt.
Then he took it away from them and gave it to the people of a place called Mayinit. 95 These did as he directed, and because of this he told them that they should always be owners of the salt, and that the other peoples must buy of them.
Then Lumawig went to the people of Bontoc and told them to get clay and make pots. They got the clay, but they did not understand the moulding, and the jars were not well shaped. Because of their failure, Lumawig told them that they would always have to buy their jars, and he removed the pottery to Samoki. 96 When he told the people there what to do, they did just as he said, and their jars were well shaped and beautiful. Then the Great Spirit saw that they were fit owners of the pottery, and he told them that they should always make many jars to sell.
In this way Lumawig taught the people and brought to them all the things which they now have.
The Legend of Sampaguita
by Rudy Arizala
A long time ago, there were neighboring Baranggays named Balintawak and Gagalangin. Between the two baranggay, is a very sturdy fence made up of dried bamboo. Every five years, they destroy it and build a new fence. Sometimes, the guardsmen from Balintawak watch over the fence, oftentimes the guardsmen from Gagalangin. Everything is working according to the rules of each datu.
The datu of Barangay Balintawak has a daughter with incomparable beauty and kindness. Her name is Rosita. Her mother died when she was young, however, she has four maids to assist her every need. There are a lot of handsome young men who admires her. But the only man who captured her heart is the son of Gagalangin’s datu, whose name is Delfin.
The conflict between their parents did not stopped Delfin and Rosita from loving each other. At the end of the bamboo fence lies there secret lair. Every night when the moon is bright, they meet at the end of the fence and stroll along with Rosita’s maids. Their relationship is hidden from both of their datu parents.
One day, the datu of Gagalangin heard that the fence is being destroyed by the servants of datu Balintawak so that they can build a new one. He asked one of his guards to watch at the said fence-making. When the guard came back, he told the datu that the new fence was moved. He was mad because the datu of Balintawak took five meters of their land. Immediately, he sent a man to the datu of the neighboring baranggay.
”Tell the datu of Balintawak to put the fence back where it is supposed to be. They are being unlawful and stealing one’s land is a crime!” said the datu of Gagalangin.
When the datu of Balintawak heard about it, he became furious and asked the servant to give a message to their datu. “Tell your datu that I never stole anything from him. I just placed the bamboo fences at its right place according to the documents that I discovered, written by my ancestors.”
Delfin’s father was very much displeased with the other datu’s response. This kind of conflicts usually results bloodshed among the two baranggays.
The datu of Gagalangin prepared his unit for the upcoming battle. He needs to get their baranggay’s stolen land even by violent means.When the news reached the datu of Balintawak, he eagerly prepared his battle unit as well. The two leaders are now ready for a never-ending war.
A few days before Gagalangins planned to attack the Balintawak, the datu got sick. He became seriously ill that lead him to his death. The responsibility was then handed to Delfin. He will be the one to lead the battle troops of baranggay Gagalangin.
The female servants told Rosita what was about to happen and she started to become frightened. Delfin is so young and does not have any experience when it comes to war. His father, on the other hand, had been trained to fight since he was still a child. She worried too much. She wanted to talk to Delfin and ask him to forfeit the war and simply talk to his father and settle the conflict peacefully. However, they do not have time to converse anymore. Tomorrow is the start of an endless battle between the two baranggays.
Both parties lost so many lives. Delfin was badly hurt and shed a lot of blood. He started to be blurry. He was half conscious when he fell to the ground. Before his last breath, he told one of his comrades to bury him near the end of the fence where he and Rosita used to secretly see each other.
Nobody can ever tell what really happened to the young lovers or the result of the war. All they knew is that Rosita became seriously ill when she knew that Delfin died in the battle. Her father called for so many doctors to make her feel well but neither one of them can treat Rosita. When she was about to die, Rosita told her father to bury her near Delfin, at the end of the bamboo fence. Though it is hard for the datu to do, she still obeyed her daughter’s last wish.
Many years had passed and the existence of baranggays gradually disappeared. Spaniards came and the city of Manila was established. Balintawak and Gagalangin became populated. But all the people living in these two places were having a mysterious experience. During the month of May, especially when the moon is bright, they hear a mystical sweet voice of a lady saying “Sumpa kita! ... Sumpa kita!” (I swear, I swear) but nobody can see from whom it is coming from. It seems as if it comes from the bushes where little white flowers grow. Although the flowers are so tiny, it bursts out a different kind of scent that everybody loves to smell. That’s what usually happens every month of May, each year.
Because everyone was so curious about the voice, they all decided to dig up the spot and uncover the mystery behind it. To their surprise, they found the roots of the bushes where the lovely flower grows, comes from the mouth of the two bodies buried not so far from each other. The elders remembered the memoir of the two lovers – Delfin and Rosita.
The story spread fast. The words “Sumpa kita” evolved as “Sampaguita” that signifies an everlasting love of Delfin and Rosita.
by Rudy Arizala
A long time ago, there were neighboring Baranggays named Balintawak and Gagalangin. Between the two baranggay, is a very sturdy fence made up of dried bamboo. Every five years, they destroy it and build a new fence. Sometimes, the guardsmen from Balintawak watch over the fence, oftentimes the guardsmen from Gagalangin. Everything is working according to the rules of each datu.
The datu of Barangay Balintawak has a daughter with incomparable beauty and kindness. Her name is Rosita. Her mother died when she was young, however, she has four maids to assist her every need. There are a lot of handsome young men who admires her. But the only man who captured her heart is the son of Gagalangin’s datu, whose name is Delfin.
The conflict between their parents did not stopped Delfin and Rosita from loving each other. At the end of the bamboo fence lies there secret lair. Every night when the moon is bright, they meet at the end of the fence and stroll along with Rosita’s maids. Their relationship is hidden from both of their datu parents.
One day, the datu of Gagalangin heard that the fence is being destroyed by the servants of datu Balintawak so that they can build a new one. He asked one of his guards to watch at the said fence-making. When the guard came back, he told the datu that the new fence was moved. He was mad because the datu of Balintawak took five meters of their land. Immediately, he sent a man to the datu of the neighboring baranggay.
”Tell the datu of Balintawak to put the fence back where it is supposed to be. They are being unlawful and stealing one’s land is a crime!” said the datu of Gagalangin.
When the datu of Balintawak heard about it, he became furious and asked the servant to give a message to their datu. “Tell your datu that I never stole anything from him. I just placed the bamboo fences at its right place according to the documents that I discovered, written by my ancestors.”
Delfin’s father was very much displeased with the other datu’s response. This kind of conflicts usually results bloodshed among the two baranggays.
The datu of Gagalangin prepared his unit for the upcoming battle. He needs to get their baranggay’s stolen land even by violent means.When the news reached the datu of Balintawak, he eagerly prepared his battle unit as well. The two leaders are now ready for a never-ending war.
A few days before Gagalangins planned to attack the Balintawak, the datu got sick. He became seriously ill that lead him to his death. The responsibility was then handed to Delfin. He will be the one to lead the battle troops of baranggay Gagalangin.
The female servants told Rosita what was about to happen and she started to become frightened. Delfin is so young and does not have any experience when it comes to war. His father, on the other hand, had been trained to fight since he was still a child. She worried too much. She wanted to talk to Delfin and ask him to forfeit the war and simply talk to his father and settle the conflict peacefully. However, they do not have time to converse anymore. Tomorrow is the start of an endless battle between the two baranggays.
Both parties lost so many lives. Delfin was badly hurt and shed a lot of blood. He started to be blurry. He was half conscious when he fell to the ground. Before his last breath, he told one of his comrades to bury him near the end of the fence where he and Rosita used to secretly see each other.
Nobody can ever tell what really happened to the young lovers or the result of the war. All they knew is that Rosita became seriously ill when she knew that Delfin died in the battle. Her father called for so many doctors to make her feel well but neither one of them can treat Rosita. When she was about to die, Rosita told her father to bury her near Delfin, at the end of the bamboo fence. Though it is hard for the datu to do, she still obeyed her daughter’s last wish.
Many years had passed and the existence of baranggays gradually disappeared. Spaniards came and the city of Manila was established. Balintawak and Gagalangin became populated. But all the people living in these two places were having a mysterious experience. During the month of May, especially when the moon is bright, they hear a mystical sweet voice of a lady saying “Sumpa kita! ... Sumpa kita!” (I swear, I swear) but nobody can see from whom it is coming from. It seems as if it comes from the bushes where little white flowers grow. Although the flowers are so tiny, it bursts out a different kind of scent that everybody loves to smell. That’s what usually happens every month of May, each year.
Because everyone was so curious about the voice, they all decided to dig up the spot and uncover the mystery behind it. To their surprise, they found the roots of the bushes where the lovely flower grows, comes from the mouth of the two bodies buried not so far from each other. The elders remembered the memoir of the two lovers – Delfin and Rosita.
The story spread fast. The words “Sumpa kita” evolved as “Sampaguita” that signifies an everlasting love of Delfin and Rosita.
The Monkey and the Turtle
by Jose P. Rizal
A monkey, looking very sad and dejected, was walking along the bank of the river one day when he met a turtle.
"How are you?" asked the turtle, noticing that he looked sad.
The monkey replied, "Oh, my friend, I am very hungry. The squash of Mr. Farmer were all taken by the other monkeys, and now I am about to die from want of food."
"Do not be discouraged," said the turtle; "take a bolo and follow me and we will steal some banana plants."
So they walked along together until they found some nice plants which they dug up, and then they looked for a place to set them. Finally the monkey climbed a tree and planted his in it, but as the turtle could not climb he dug a hole in the ground and set his there.
When their work was finished they went away, planning what they should do with their crop. The monkey said :
"When my tree bears fruit, I shall sell it and have a great deal of money."
And the turtle said: "When my tree bears fruit, I shall sell it and buy three varas of cloth to wear in place of this cracked shell."
A few weeks later they went back to the place to see their plants and found that that of the monkey was dead, for its roots had had no soil in the tree, but that of the turtle was tall and bearing fruit.
"I will climb to the top so that we can get the fruit," said the monkey. And he sprang up the tree, leaving the poor turtle on the ground alone.
"Please give me some to eat," called the turtle, but the monkey threw him only a green one and ate all the ripe ones himself.
When he had eaten all the good bananas, the monkey stretched his arms around the tree and went to sleep.
The turtle, seeing this, was very angry and considered how he might punish the thief. Having decided on a scheme, he gathered some sharp bamboo which he stuck all around under the tree, and then he exclaimed:
"Crocodile is coming! Crocodile is coming!"
The monkey was so startled at the cry that he fell upon the sharp bamboo and was killed.
Then the turtle cut the dead monkey into pieces, put salt on it, and dried it in the sun. The next day, he went to the mountains and sold his meat to other monkeys who gladly gave him squash in return. As he was leaving them he called back:
"Lazy fellows, you are now eating your own body; you are now eating your own body."
Then the monkeys ran and caught him and carried him to their own home.
"Let us take a hatchet," said one old monkey, "and cut him into very small pieces."
But the turtle laughed and said: "That is just what I like. I have been struck with a hatchet many times. Do you not see the black scars on my shell ?"
Then one of the other monkeys said: "Let us throw him into the water."
At this the turtle cried and begged them to spare his life, but they paid no heed to his pleadings and threw him into the water. He sank to the bottom, but very soon came up with a lobster. The monkeys were greatly surprised at this and begged him to tell them how to eatch lobsters.
"I tied one end of a string around my waist," said the turtle. "To the other end of the string I tied a stone so that I would sink."
The monkeys immediately tied strings around themselves as the turtle said, and when all was ready they plunged into the water never to tome up again.
And to this day monkeys do not like to eat meat, because they remember the ancient story.
by Jose P. Rizal
A monkey, looking very sad and dejected, was walking along the bank of the river one day when he met a turtle.
"How are you?" asked the turtle, noticing that he looked sad.
The monkey replied, "Oh, my friend, I am very hungry. The squash of Mr. Farmer were all taken by the other monkeys, and now I am about to die from want of food."
"Do not be discouraged," said the turtle; "take a bolo and follow me and we will steal some banana plants."
So they walked along together until they found some nice plants which they dug up, and then they looked for a place to set them. Finally the monkey climbed a tree and planted his in it, but as the turtle could not climb he dug a hole in the ground and set his there.
When their work was finished they went away, planning what they should do with their crop. The monkey said :
"When my tree bears fruit, I shall sell it and have a great deal of money."
And the turtle said: "When my tree bears fruit, I shall sell it and buy three varas of cloth to wear in place of this cracked shell."
A few weeks later they went back to the place to see their plants and found that that of the monkey was dead, for its roots had had no soil in the tree, but that of the turtle was tall and bearing fruit.
"I will climb to the top so that we can get the fruit," said the monkey. And he sprang up the tree, leaving the poor turtle on the ground alone.
"Please give me some to eat," called the turtle, but the monkey threw him only a green one and ate all the ripe ones himself.
When he had eaten all the good bananas, the monkey stretched his arms around the tree and went to sleep.
The turtle, seeing this, was very angry and considered how he might punish the thief. Having decided on a scheme, he gathered some sharp bamboo which he stuck all around under the tree, and then he exclaimed:
"Crocodile is coming! Crocodile is coming!"
The monkey was so startled at the cry that he fell upon the sharp bamboo and was killed.
Then the turtle cut the dead monkey into pieces, put salt on it, and dried it in the sun. The next day, he went to the mountains and sold his meat to other monkeys who gladly gave him squash in return. As he was leaving them he called back:
"Lazy fellows, you are now eating your own body; you are now eating your own body."
Then the monkeys ran and caught him and carried him to their own home.
"Let us take a hatchet," said one old monkey, "and cut him into very small pieces."
But the turtle laughed and said: "That is just what I like. I have been struck with a hatchet many times. Do you not see the black scars on my shell ?"
Then one of the other monkeys said: "Let us throw him into the water."
At this the turtle cried and begged them to spare his life, but they paid no heed to his pleadings and threw him into the water. He sank to the bottom, but very soon came up with a lobster. The monkeys were greatly surprised at this and begged him to tell them how to eatch lobsters.
"I tied one end of a string around my waist," said the turtle. "To the other end of the string I tied a stone so that I would sink."
The monkeys immediately tied strings around themselves as the turtle said, and when all was ready they plunged into the water never to tome up again.
And to this day monkeys do not like to eat meat, because they remember the ancient story.
The story of the dog and the lion by Maranaw Fable
A dog was walking through the forest when, all of a sudden, ihe came across a lion. The lion wanted to eat the dog. It began to rain.
The dog then looked at his reflection in a puddle and came up with an idea.
He said to the lion 'look into the puddles, and you will see all the lions that have been caught by dogs'. The dog pointed to the puddle and said ' this is a prison for lions' - As the dog showed the lion puddle after puddle, the lion decided it would be best to leave the dog alone.
The lion walked away hungry and the dog survived because he was able to think fast.
The end.
The lion was going to eat the dog, but then he looked into every puddle and there was a lion captured by a dog, so he did not dare eat him anymore.
A dog was walking through the forest when, all of a sudden, ihe came across a lion. The lion wanted to eat the dog. It began to rain.
The dog then looked at his reflection in a puddle and came up with an idea.
He said to the lion 'look into the puddles, and you will see all the lions that have been caught by dogs'. The dog pointed to the puddle and said ' this is a prison for lions' - As the dog showed the lion puddle after puddle, the lion decided it would be best to leave the dog alone.
The lion walked away hungry and the dog survived because he was able to think fast.
The end.
The lion was going to eat the dog, but then he looked into every puddle and there was a lion captured by a dog, so he did not dare eat him anymore.
The Tortoise and the Monkey
by Jose P. Rizal
It is about a tortoise and a monkey who plant halves of a banana tree. Thinking that the upper part with leaves would bear fruit soon, the greedy monkey plants the upper half but it withers. The tortoise, on the other hand, gets the ugly-looking lower portion with the roots, but it flourishes and soon is laden with fruits. The tortoise, however, cannot climb the tree to gather the fruits, so the monkey volunteers to pick them. But he eats all the bananas while he is up on the tree, throwing the skin down on the tortoise. Angry, the tortoise plants some pointed snails around the tree and hides under a coconut shell. The monkey comes down and gets his just desserts. Wounded and bleeding, he searches and finds the tortoise. As punishment he gives the tortoise two choices: to be pounded with a mortar or be thrown into the water. The clever tortoise chooses the mortar and deceives the monkey into thinking that he is afraid of drowning. The monkey throws the tortoise in the water, where the latter soon surfaces laughing.
by Jose P. Rizal
It is about a tortoise and a monkey who plant halves of a banana tree. Thinking that the upper part with leaves would bear fruit soon, the greedy monkey plants the upper half but it withers. The tortoise, on the other hand, gets the ugly-looking lower portion with the roots, but it flourishes and soon is laden with fruits. The tortoise, however, cannot climb the tree to gather the fruits, so the monkey volunteers to pick them. But he eats all the bananas while he is up on the tree, throwing the skin down on the tortoise. Angry, the tortoise plants some pointed snails around the tree and hides under a coconut shell. The monkey comes down and gets his just desserts. Wounded and bleeding, he searches and finds the tortoise. As punishment he gives the tortoise two choices: to be pounded with a mortar or be thrown into the water. The clever tortoise chooses the mortar and deceives the monkey into thinking that he is afraid of drowning. The monkey throws the tortoise in the water, where the latter soon surfaces laughing.