Santa Rita College of Pampanga

San Jose, Santa Rita, Pampanga

STYLISTIC ANALYSIS OF THE WORKS OF MANUEL

ARGUILLA “HOW MY BROTHER LEON BROUGHT HOME A

WIFE” AND CARLOS BULOSAN “MY FATHER GOES TO

COURT” USING LABOV’S NARRATIVE MODEL

In Partial Fulfillment In Reading and Writing Skills

Presented to the Senior High School Department

Santa Rita College of Pampanga

S.Y. 2018-2019

Presented by:
Angeles, Jovinerz
Sazon, Ethan Jan
Chang, Rancine Mae
Galang, Luz Marielle
Mercado, Joyce Denise
Valencia, Kerstie Herschel
(Group One-11 Kings)

Presented to:
Ms. Mary Rose Ipac, LPT
(Teacher)
2
 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Title Page………………………………………………………………………….5

Acknowledgement………………………………………………………………..7

Dedication………………………………………………………………………....8

Abstract……………………………………………………………………………9

Chapter I

Introduction………………………………………………………………………11

Statement of the Problem……………………………………………………...12

Significance of the Study……………………………………………………….13

Definition of Terms……………………………………………………………...14

Chapter II

Review of Related Literature………………………………………………..17

Framework of the Study…………………………………………………..…24

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 Chapter III

Stylistic Analysis Proper……………………………………………………...26

Chapter IV

Summary and Conclusion……………………………………………………35

Appendices………………………………………………………………..…..38

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 STYLISTIC ANALYSIS OF THE WORKS OF MANUEL

ARGUILLA “HOW MY BROTHER LEON BROUGHT HOME A

WIFE” AND CARLOS BULOSAN “MY FATHER GOES TO

COURT” USING LABOV’S NARRATIVE MODEL

In Partial Fulfillment In Reading and Writing Skills

Presented to the Senior High School Department

Santa Rita College of Pampanga

S.Y. 2018-2019

Presented by:
Angeles, Jovinerz
Sazon, Ethan Jan
Chang, Rancine Mae
Galang, Luz Marielle
Mercado, Joyce Denise
Valencia, Kerstie Herschel
(Group One-11 Kings)

Presented to:
Ms. Mary Rose Ipac, LPT
(Teacher)

5
6
 ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

First, we are very grateful to the Almighty God for his protection and guidance

throughout our academic life. We would also like to express our sincere gratitude to our

Adviser Mrs. Angelita Pascual and our Subject Teacher in Reading and Writing Ms.

Mary Rose Ipac for their support throughout the study, thank you very much for your

expertise, hardworking and constructive suggestions offered throughout this study.

Our deepest gratitude also goes to the authors of “How My Brother Leon Brought

Home a Wife” and “My Father goes to Court” for making such great pieces for us to be

reminded of the real essence of being a reader. Finally, we wish to express our

profound gratitude to our family for their unending support morally and financially. Thank

you and may God bless you all!

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 DEDICATION

We dedicate this to the students who will also experience doing the comparative study.

To the people of this nation and to our Motherland, to show our appreciation to our very

own Philippine Literature.

To our parents, this study serves as evidence of your sweat and effort to send us to

school.

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 ABSTRACT

This review talks about the stylistic analysis of the two short stories entitled: “How
My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife” by Manuel E. Arguilla and “My Father Goes to
Court” by Carlos Bulosan. This paper aims to explore the similarities, differences, and
themes used by the authors of the different stories.

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CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION
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 “Families are like branches on a tree. We grow in different directions yet our
roots remain as one”. A family is defined as the basic unit of society. This is a fact that is
permanent and can never be changed in the world.

Filipino Families are known as God-centered, patriotic, hospitable, hard-working,

generous, and lovable. Regardless of what they’re going through, a smile is still evident
in their faces. Even though life throws them a test, they don’t forget the value of their
relationship towards each other. You can see it in their culture and their traits. It is the
same with the Philippine Literature.

Philippine Literature is one of the country’s finest treasures. It is about the

legends and history that is passed down from one generation to another. Throughout
the years, it has been developed and more writers were encouraged to write stories of
different genres which makes it richer.

The two short stories picture how the families cope with the new chapters of their
own written accounts.

The authors made their comfort zone as an inspiration to express themselves in

a creative way. Just like the writer’s reasons for writing the stories. Manuel Estabilla
Arguilla an Ilokano writer, patriot and martyr was widely known for his short story
entitled “How My Brother Leon Brought Home A Wife” which won first prize in the 1940
Commonwealth literary contest. He was born on June 17, 1911, at Nagrebcan, Banang,
La Union. With his deep affection towards his birthplace, most of the scenes in his
stories portray the simple life he has in the province.

Carlos Sampayan Bulosan was born on November 24, 1915, in Binalonan,

Pangasinan. He was a Filipino novelist and poet who spent most of his life in the United
States. He is known for his work entitled “America is in the Heart”. Upon meeting
problems such as racism and working despite the low income, his experience urged him
to write stories about Filipinos abroad.

STATEMENT OF THE PROBLEM

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The stylisticians aims to know the following:

1. What are the similarities of the stories?

2. What are the differences of the stories?
3. What are the themes used in the stories?

SIGNIFICANCE OF THE STUDY

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The following will benefit from this study:

Students

The students will understand the value of Philippine Literature and gain more
knowledge and life lessons.

Teachers

The teachers can use it as a guide for Philippine Literary works.

Future Stylisticians

They will get an idea about how Philippine Literature is interesting to read. This
will serve as a guide as they go further with the analysis of the said stories.

This analysis aims to help the people to appreciate the lessons, way of life and
the culture brought to us by the stories of Philippine Literature.

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 DEFINITION OF TERMS

 Philippine Literature-is literature associated with the Philippines from

prehistory, through its colonial legacies, and on to the present.

 Stylistics-a branch of applied linguistics, is the study and interpretation of texts

of all types and/or spoken language in regard to their linguistic and tonal style,

where style is the particular variety of language used by different individuals

and/or in different situations or settings.

 Abstract-an existing in thought or as an idea but not having a physical or

concrete existence.

 Complicating Action-is the event that breaks "stasis" and therefore initiates the

plot of the story.

 Evaluation-is the making of a judgment about the amount, number, or value of

something; assessment.

 Resolution-the act or process of resolving.

 Coda-is the concluding passage of a piece or movement, typically forming an

addition to the basic structure.

 Orientation-is the determination of the relative position of something or someone

(especially oneself).

 Author-a writer of a book, article, or report.

 Theme-is the subject of a talk, a piece of writing, a person's thoughts, or an

exhibition; a topic.

 Analysis-detailed examination of the elements or structure of something.

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 Character- a person in a novel, play, or movie.

 Conflict-a serious disagreement or argument, typically a protracted one.

 Study-is the devotion of time and attention to acquiring knowledge on an

academic subject, especially by means of books.

 Protagonist-is the leading character or one of the major characters in a drama,

movie, novel, or other fictional text.

 Dialogue-conversation between two or more people as a feature of a book, play

or movie.

 Story-is an account of imaginary or real people and events told for

entertainment.

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CHAPTER II

16
 RELATED LITERATURE

The stories How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife by. Manuel Arguilla and
The Son From America by. Isaac Bashevis Singer tackles about the homecoming of the
son with something new or something that will change their lives.

How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife was set in Nagrebcan, La Union. It
was narrated in the second person point of view.

"There is Nagrebcan, Maria," my brother Leon said, gesturing widely toward the
west.

It started with a vivid description of one of the protagonists.

“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.”

It tackles about the arrival of Leon, a “probinsyano” together with his wife Maria
who spend most of her life in the city. Leon’s father tested Maria by instructing Baldo,
Leon’s brother to use Labang on their way home. Maria was afraid that Leon’s father
wouldn’t like him. But, Leon told her that he will surely like her. They arrived soon at
their home. Baldo went to his Father and he was asked some questions regarding
Maria.

He was silent again. I could hear the low voices of Mother and my sister Aurelia
downstairs. There was also the voice of my brother Leon, and I thought that
Father's voice must have been like it when Father was young. He had laid the roll
of tobacco on the windowsill once more. I watched the smoke waver faintly
upward from the lighted end and vanish slowly into the night outside.

The door opened and my brother Leon and Maria came in.

"Have you watered Labang?" Father spoke to me.

I told him that Labang was resting yet under the barn.

"It is time you watered him, my son," my father said.

I looked at Maria and she was lovely. She was tall. Beside my brother Leon, she
was tall and very still. Then I went out, and in the darkened hall the fragrance of
her was like a morning when papayas are in bloom.

17
 The Son From America was set in the village of Lentshin. It started with the
description of the village where the protagonist used to live. It was narrated in third
person point of view.

“The village of Lentshin was tiny. It was surrounded by little huts with thatchad
roofs. Between the huts there were fields, where the owners planted vegetables
or pastured their goats.”.

It tackles about Samuel the son of Berlcha and Berl who lived in America.
Samuel went home after forty years of staying there. His mother barely recognized him
because of the changes that occurred in his physical appearance as well as the way he
speaks.

One Friday morning, when Berlcha was kneading the dough for the Sabbath
loaves, the door opened and a nobleman entered. He was so tall that he had to
bend down to get through the door. He was followed by the coachman who
carried two leather suitcases. In astonishment Berlcha raised her eyes. The
nobleman looked around and said to the coachman in Yiddish, "Here it is."

He took out a silver ruble and paid him. Then he said, "You can go now."

When the coachman closed the door, the nobleman said, "Mother, it's me, your
son Samuel-Sam."

Samuel stayed for a while in the village for Sabbath. He asked his parents
regarding the money he has been sending to them.

"Father, what did you do with all the money I sent you?"

Berl raised his white brows. "It's here."

"Didn't you put it in a bank?"

"There is no bank in Lentshin."

"Where do you keep it?"

Berl hesitated. "One is not allowed to touch money on the Sabbath, but I will
show you. "He crouched beside the bed and began to shove something heavy. A
boot appeared. Its top was stuffed with straw. Berl removed the straw and the son
saw that the boot was full of gold coins. He lifted it.

His father Berl presented the money to him. He asked his father why they didn’t
spend the money. His father answered that they have everything. He wanted to spend
the money on the village but everything was completely fine.

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“In the twilight Samuel put his hand into his jacket pocket and touched his
checkbook, his letters of credit. He had come here with big plans. He had a
suitcase filled with presents for his parents. He wanted to help the village. He
brought not only his own money but funds from the Lentshin Society in New
York. But this village needed nothing. From the synagogue one could hear people
chanting. The cricket, silent all day, started again its chirping. Berlcha began to
sway and utter holy rhymes inherited from mothers and grandmothers.”

The two stories were about going back to the place where their lives started.
Both stories were set in small places.

The differences were the purpose of the stories. How My Brother Leon Brought
Home A Wife’s purpose is to tell us that do not be afraid of being yourselves. No one
should not change what they are so that people will like them. They should be proud of
what they have. They should learn to battle with their self-doubts and to ignore the
negative thoughts. Social status is not a hindrance when it comes to love. If you love
someone, you will accept him/her for who she/he is.

The Son From America’s purpose is to remind us to cherish the people who
inspired and motivated us to achieve success. We should not forget the place where we
grew up. On being wealthy, we should at least impart some money for the betterment of
society.

On the other hand, both stories remind us wherever we are, we should not forget
what or who we are before because, without yesterday, you will not be who you are
today.

The stories My Father Goes To Court and The Rich Man, The Poor Man both
tackles about the differences between the upper and lower class.

The story My Father Goes To Court was in first person point of view. It started
with the narration of the experiences of the narrator and his family. He described how
healthy and happy their family is despite the poverty that they are facing. On the other
hand, the wealthy family were not healthy and not really happy. One morning, a
policeman came to their house with the complaint filed against them by the rich man.
The complaint was about them stealing the aroma of the food.

“One morning a policeman from the presidencia came to our house with a sealed
paper. The rich man had filed a complaint against us. Father took me with him
when he went to the town clerk and asked him what it was about. He told Father
the man claimed that for years we had been stealing the spirit of his wealth and
food.”

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 They went to the court to settle the problem. The father refused to have a lawyer.

“Do you claim that we stole the spirit of your wealth and became a laughing
family while yours became morose and sad?” Father said.

“Yes.”

“Do you claim that we stole the spirit of your food by hanging outside your
windows when your servants cooked it?” Father said.

“Yes.”

“Then we are going to pay you right now,” Father said. He walked over to where
we children were sitting on the bench and took my straw hat off my lap and began
filling it up with centavo pieces that he took out of his pockets. He went to
Mother, who added a fistful of silver coins. My brothers threw in their small
change.

“May I walk to the room across the hall and stay there for a few minutes, Judge?”
Father said.

“As you wish.”

“Thank you,” father said. He strode into the other room with the hat in his hands.
It was almost full of coins. The doors of both rooms were wide open.

“Are you ready?” Father called.

“Proceed.” The judge said.

The sweet tinkle of the coins carried beautifully in the courtroom. The spectators
turned their faces toward the sound with wonder. Father came back and stood
before the complaint.

“Did you hear it?” he asked.

“Hear what?” the man asked.

“The spirit of the money when I shook this hat?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you are paid,” Father said.

The rich man opened his mouth to speak and fell to the floor without a sound.
The lawyer rushed to his aid. The judge pounded his gravel.

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“Case dismissed.” He said.

The case has been settled with that. The family went home with a smile on their
faces.

The story The Rich Man, The Poor Man was narrated in third person point of
view. It started with the introduction of a contented and hard-working poor man named
Ali who had a neighbor Kasim a wealthy man who always wanted him to be in trouble.
One day, Kasim held a feast in his house. He saw how much Ali enjoyed the aroma of
food.

“What!” thought he, “How dare that pauper inhale the aroma from my kitchen?
My Kitchen! The aroma from the food cooked with my money! The rascal! I will
make him pay for this! I will take him to the Qazi and demand justice!”

Seething with anger, Kasim marched to Ali’s house. Without so much as a

greeting, he shouted to his neighbour.

“You robber, you thief! How dare you steal from my house!”

Poor Ali could not understand what theft he was being accused of. Without
enlightening him, Kasim dragged the poor man to the Qazi. Word spread like
wildfire and a great crowd gathered to watch the proceedings”.

They went to the Qazi to have receive the proper punishment that one deserves.

“Your Honour, this man had the audacity to sit in his backyard and without so
much as lifting a finger, enjoy the delicious aroma of food coming from my
kitchen. I demand payment for the pleasure that he enjoyed at my expense. Your
Honour, you have always been just and I am sure that you will mete out justice in
this case too.”

Indeed the Qazi was a just man - as honourable and witty as he was just. He
listened quietly - the shock on his face was slowly replaced by a twinkle in his
eyes. Now he turned to Ali.

“ Is what this man says true? Did you enjoy at his expense?”

“Yes, your Honor, but I could not help it.”

“Ali, you have to pay Kasim for the favour enjoyed. The court orders both of you
to come here tomorrow at the same time. By God, justice will be done!”

The next day, they went back to the court.

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Ali carried with him a big box. Kasim’s face glowed with anticipation as he
recognized Ali’s money box.

‘All my money, your honour, said Ali.

“Okay. Now, shake the box so that all of us can be sure your box contains
money”.

Ali shook the money box vigorously and there was a loud jingling noise. The Qazi
turned to Kasim.

“Oh Kasim, doesn’t that sound lovely?”

“Aah, yes, yes, Your honour”.

“Ali, shake the box once more”, the Qazi commanded. Ali obeyed.

“Kasim, don’t you feel happy to hear the sound of so many coins?” the Qazi
queried.

His eyes glittering, Kasim exclaimed, “Oh your honour, the sound of that money
gives me utmost pleasure!” so saying, the greedy man was about to grab the
money box from Ali.

“Don’t you dare touch it!” The grim voice of the Qazi rang out. “Ali has paid you
in full measure. Just as the aroma of your food gave him pleasure, so did the
sound of his money gave you pleasure. You have been paid back in the same
coin- Justice has been done.”

The case has been settled with that. Ali went home with a smile painted on his
face.

The two stories had the same plot but different characters. On the My Father
Goes To Court, it was family versus family while on The Rich Man, The Poor Man it was
man versus man. Both stories reflected what is happening in the society today. Most of
the time, wealthy families and Kasim take advantage of their wealth and power to get
what they want or to remove what they don’t like. They will use those to put innocent
people behind bars. They are willing to do anything to eliminate the things they don’t
want. The poor family and Ali despite poverty, you can see their contentment and
happiness with their lives. While on the wealthy family and Kasim, you can see that
even if they have it all, they aren’t contented with what they have. Instead, they are
seeking for things that will make them talk of the town. They wanted to prove how
powerful and influential they are. The stories reminds us that “Money can’t buy
happiness”.

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 The four stories proved the saying “Money can’t buy happiness”. On How My
Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife, Maria chose to accept that Leon’s family doesn’t
live the way she does because that is what will make her happy. The Son from America
tells that wealth is nothing without family. My Father Goes to Court and The Rich Man,
The Poor Man depict that being happy is not about having a lot of money. It’s all about
having a happy family. Another thing is that family matters the most. It serves as a
reminder that the family is very important because they are the source of one’s strength,
courage and happiness. They are the people whom we can always count on in times of
trouble. They are the ones who will stay and battle with us when life is tough.

“Family matters most”.

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 FRAMEWORK OF THE STUDY

The study talks about the stylistic analysis of the two short stories brought to us
by Philippine Literature namely “How My Brother Leon Brought home a Wife” by Manuel
E. Arguilla and “My Father Goes to Court” by Carlos Bulosan. The Labov’s Narrative
Model is used to present the plot of the story. It is an effective tool that is used in
thorough analysis of specific texts. There are six categories namely: Abstract,
Orientation, Complication Action, Resolution, Evaluation and Coda.

The first category is the Abstract where the beginning of the story is presented.
The writers will introduce the characters and setting of the story through the Orientation.
The complicating action is the climax or the highest peak of the story. It is also the main
body of the narrative. The closure is given to us by the resolution wherein the problems
are solved. The Evaluation emphasizes the main points of the story. And lastly, the
coda signals the completion of the narrative.

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CHAPTER III

25
 ABSTRACT

The story “How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife” by. Manuel E. Arguilla
started with the vivid description of a lady and her physical appearance who just arrived
in the place. The words were played well. They are common which makes them
recognizable.

“She stepped down from the carretela of Ca Celin with a quick, delicate grace. She was
lovely, whe was tall. She looked up to my brother with a smile, and her forehead was on
a level with his mouth”.

While the story “My Father Goes to Court” by. Carlos Bulosan started by the
narration of the speaker’s life.

“When I was four, I lived with my mother and brothers and sisters in a small town on the
island of Luzon. Father’s. Father’s farm had been destroyed in 1918 by one of our
sudden Philippine floods, so several years afterwards we all live in the town through he
preferred living in the country”.

The narrator stated their life way back in the early years of his existence. The
introduction was presented clearly.

Therefore, Manuel Arguilla introduced the story focusing on the physical features
of one of the main characters and it was set in the present time. He presented it in a
descriptive manner. Carlos Bulosan on the other hand used the narrative way to present
the story. He focused on the narration of the experiences of the character and his
family.

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 ORIENTATION

The story My Father Goes Court was set in a town. The neighborhood became
the witness of the events that occurred which led to the rise of conflicts. The most
anticipated event was held in the trial court.

The characters in the story are the mother who is the wife of the farmer. The
father/farmer/farm owner is the father of the narrator. The neighbor of the narrator when
they move to the town who is not sociable is the Rich Man. He also accused the family
of the narrator of stealing the spirit of the food. Without his servants prepared. The
children of the farmer are the siblings of the narrator. They are strong robust and
cheerful. They were also accused of stealing the spirit of the food without was prepared
by the rich man’s children. While the Rich Man’s children were described as their
anemic and pale. Servants of the Rich Man are the one who is preparing food for the
rich man’s family. Lastly, the narrator is one of the children of the farmer.

The story How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife happened in Nagrebcan,
La Union. It was set in a town in the province of La Union wherein nature was vividly
described and appreciated.

The characters start with the wife of Leon namely Maria. She was raised in a big
city. Beautiful, supportive, creative and loving wife, that’s how she was described. Baldo
is the narrator of the story and he is Leon’s younger brother. He is an obedient innocent
and naïve boy. Maria’s husband is Leon, Baldo’s older brother who brought home a
wife. He is a responsible, gentle and loving husband. Next one is Labang, a bull who
brought the wife and Leon to home. The family uses Labang as their family cow. It is
also a hardworking “pet”. Lastly, he is mildest tempered and gentleman. He is the
father, who instructed Baldo on what he will do while he is on the road with Leon and
Maria.

The two stories have their own characters which played important roles. Without
them, the stories might not be effective to understand for the readers. Both stories were
set in a small town. Most of the characters have similarities.

Manuel Arguilla used descriptive words to make the setting lively. The characters
were presented according to their personality and physical features. He often depicted
the Filipino traits, culture, and traditions through the characters’ actions. While Carlos
Bulosan stated the characters according to their standing in the society, physical
features, and personality.

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 COMPLICATING ACTION

The complicating action in How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife is when
Leon found out that his father asked Baldo to use Labang instead of the Castano and
the Calesa to fetch them on their way home. Leon started to think of reasons why his
father did that.

"Who told you to drive through the fields tonight?"

His hand was heavy on my shoulder, but I did not look at him or utter a word until
we were on the rocky bottom of the Waig.

"Baldo, you fool, answer me before I lay the rope of Labang on you. Why do you
follow the Wait instead of the camino real?"

His fingers bit into my shoulder.

"Father, he told me to follow the Waig tonight, Manong."

Swiftly, his hand fell away from my shoulder and he reached for the rope of
Labang. Then my brother Leon laughed, and he sat back, and laughing still, he said:

"And I suppose Father also told you to hitch Labang to the cart and meet us with
him instead of with Castano and the calesa."

Without waiting for me to answer, he turned to her and said, "Maria, why do you
think Father should do that, now?"

The complicating action in My Father Goes to Court is when the rich man and his
children became thin and anaemic while the other family became healthy. From that
day, the windows of the wealthy family were always closed.

“As time went on, the rich man’s children became thin and anaemic, while we
grew even more robust and full of life. Our faces were bright and rosy, but theirs were
pale and sad. The rich man started to cough at night; then he coughed day and night.
His wife began coughing too. Then the children started to cough, one after the other. At
night their coughing sounded like the barking of a herd of seals. We hung outside their
windows and listened to them. We wondered what happened. We knew that they were
not sick from the lack of nourishment because they were still always frying something
delicious to eat.

One day the rich man appeared at a window and stood there a long time. He
looked at my sisters, who had grown fat in laughing, then at my brothers, whose arms

28
and legs were like the molave, which is the sturdiest tree in the Philippines. He banged
down the window and ran through his house, shutting all the windows.

From that day on, the windows of our neighbour’s house were always closed.
The children did not come out anymore. We could still hear the servants cooking in the
kitchen, and no matter how tight the windows were shut, the aroma of the food came to
us in the wind and drifted gratuitously into our house.”

In How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife, the main character was not
confident enough because of the things that happened. In result to that, fear and doubts
reigned over his system. While in My Father Goes to Court, you can see the gradual
changes with just a simple action done by someone.

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 RESOLUTION

The resolution of the story “My Father Goes to Court” is when a policeman went
to the house of the poor family. He gave the father a sealed paper saying that a
complaint was filed against them. The father willingly went with the policeman to talk
about the said complaint.

“One morning a policeman from the presidencia came to our house with a sealed
paper. The rich man had filed a complaint against us. Father took me with him when he
went to the town clerk and asked him what it was about. He told Father the man claimed
that for years we had been stealing the spirit of his wealth and food.

When the day came for us to appear in court, father brushed his old Army
uniform and borrowed a pair of shoes from one of my brothers. We were the first to
arrive. Father sat on a chair in the centre of the courtroom. Mother occupied a chair by
the door. We children sat on a long bench by the wall. Father kept jumping up from his
chair and stabbing the air with his arms, as though we were defending himself before an
imaginary jury.”

The resolution of the story “How My Brother Brought Home a Wife” is when Maria
told Leon that she is afraid that Leon’s father might not like him. Leon responded by
giving Maria the courage, motivating and cheering her up with his words.

"---you see," my brother Leon was explaining, "the camino real curves around the
foot of the Katayaghan hills and passes by our house. We drove through the fields
because---but I'll be asking Father as soon as we get home."

"Noel," she said.

"Yes, Maria."

"I am afraid. He may not like me."

"Does that worry you still, Maria?" my brother Leon said. "From the way you talk,
he might be an ogre, for all the world. Except when his leg that was wounded in the
Revolution is troubling him, Father is the mildest-tempered, gentlest man I know."

My Father Goes to Court and How My Brother Leon Brought Home A Wife’s
resolution were presented in a way wherein events can be easily predicted.

30
 EVALUATION

In My Father Goes to Court, there are two families; the one that is happy despite
poverty, and the other one that is wealthy. The family of the narrator were accused of
stealing the spirit of their wealth and food. The head of the family which is the father
agreed to settle the problem with the rich man in court. Upon the trial, several measures
were done. The last thing they have done was making sound out of the coins.

“Did you hear it?” he asked.

“Hear what?” the man asked.

“The spirit of the money when I shook this hat?” he asked.

“Yes”

“Then you are paid.” Father said.

The rich man opened his mouth to speak and fell to the floor without a sound. The
lawyer rushed to his aid. The judge pounded his gravel.

“Case dismissed”. He said.

Father strutted around the courtroom the judge even came down from his high chair to
shake hands with him. “By the way,” he whispered, “I had an uncle who died laughing.”

“You like to hear my family laugh Judge?” father asked

“Why not”

On How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife, Leon goes home to his province
with his wife Maria. Maria came from the urban. As a city girl, Maria is afraid that Leon’s
father wouldn’t like him because of their differences. Upon their arrival at Leon’s home
Leon immediately asked where his father is.

I stopped labang on the road before our house and would have gotten down but
my brother Leon took the rope and told me to stay in the cart. He turned Labang into the
open gate and we dashed into our yard. I thought we would crash into the camachile
tree, but my brother Leon reined in Labang in time. There was light downstairs in the
kitchen, and Mother stood in the doorway, and I could see her smiling shyly. My brother
Leon was helping Maria over the wheel. The first words that fell from his lips after he
had kissed Mother's hand were:

31
 "Father... where is he?"

"He is in his room upstairs," Mother said, her face becoming serious. "His leg is
bothering him again."

I did not hear anything more because I had to go back to the cart to unhitch
Labang. But I hardly tied him under the barn when I heard Father calling me. I met my
brother Leon going to bring up the trunks. As I passed through the kitchen, there were
Mother and my sister Aurelia and Maria and it seemed to me they were crying, all of
them.

In How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife, it shows that no matter how hard
it is people tend to fight for love. Despite the fear and endless possibilities, they always
look at the positive things ahead. On the other hand, My Father Goes to Court shows
that wealth is nothing if the family is not happy.

The two stories have their own beauty, importance, and lesson that we can relate
to our real life.

32
 CODA

How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife ended with the couple’s arrival at
their home. Maria met Leon’s father and the father commended Baldo to water Labang.
Baldo described Maria as lovely, tall and smells like a morning when papayas are in
bloom. Maria was able to surpass the father’s test for her despite the fear that reigns
inside her.

The door opened and my brother Leon and Maria came in.

“Have you watered Labang?” Father spoke to me

I told him that Labang was resting yet under the barn.

“It’s time you watered him, my son” My father said.

I looked at Maria and she was lovely. She was tall. Beside my brother Leon, she was
tall and very still. Then I went out, and in the darkened hall the fragrance of her was like
a morning when papayas are in bloom.

While My Father Goes to Court ended with the case being solved and the family
that was accused, the spectators, and the judge were all laughing. It is living proof that
most of the members of the upper class take advantage of their wealth but in the end.
The truth still prevails and the innocent people win the battle.

“The rich man opened his mouth to speak and fell to the floor without a sound. The
lawyer rushed to his aid. The judge pounded his gravel.

“case dismissed,” he said

Father strutted around the courtroom the judge even came down from his high chair to
shake hands with him.

“By the way” he whispered, “I had an uncle who died laughing.”

“You like to hear my family laugh Judge?” Father asked.

“Why not”

“Did you hear that children?” Father said.

My sister started it. The rest of us followed them soon the spectators were laughing with
us, holding their bellies and bending over the chairs. And the laughter of the judge was
the loudest of all.

33
 Both endings showed the end of the protagonist’s very own kind of misery. Maria,
Leon and the poor family were able to surpass the obstacles thrown to them even if
doubts bothered their heads. They were all courageous enough to face life’s challenges
even if there are a lot of hindrances.

34
CHAPTER IV

35
 SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION

This chapter shows the summary of the stylisticians’ comparative study of the
two works entitled "How My Brother Leon Brought Home A Wife" by. Manuel Arguilla
and "My Father Goes To Court" by. Carlos Bulosan.

Carlos Bulosan and Manuel Arguilla both Filipino writers, gave importance to
family, happiness, respect, courage and the protagonist having a good heart as seen on
the stories they have written. Both stories were set in a small village and were written in
the second person point of view.

In My Father Goes to Court, Carlos Bulosan showed the true essence of what
happiness really means. The narrator and his family despite poverty still see the beauty
of life just by finding the joy in the little things around them. At the end of the story, you
can see how the father gave importance to their bond as a family.

On the other hand in How My Brother Leon Brought Home A Wife, Manuel E.
Arguilla focused on believing yourself, having a positive mindset, having respect,
courage and fighting for the sake of love. Leon doubted his father at first because of
what he ordered Baldo. Instead of riding a calesa, they rode Labang. Maria is afraid of
Leon’s father thinking he may not like her. What people need to do is just believe in
themselves and to stop having doubts. Respecting people's decisions, cultures,
traditions, and beliefs will lead them to a better and peaceful life.

Arguilla used a descriptive type of writing. The story was set in the present time.
He used the right words to let the readers imagine the setting and the scenes that were
narrated. The characters were presented according to their physical features and
personality. However, the ending of the story will leave you hanging. The author will let
you use your imagination to know what might have happened.

Bulosan wrote the story in a narrative form. The story was narrated in the way
the speaker clearly stated their life way back in the past until the present time. The way
the story was narrated was direct to the point. He didn't need flowery words and vivid
descriptions to make the story more beautiful. The characters were described according
to their personality, physical features, and social standing. The story's ending was easily
predicted and it ended as expected.

The themes of the stories are important because, without those, the stories are
nothing. How My Brother Leon Brought Home A Wife tackled about the difference
between social classes. Maria is from the city while Leon is from the province. It is a
problem for them because people might judge them. Some might get the wrong

36
impression of Maria and vice versa. Their way of life, culture, traditions, and beliefs are
different from each other. One reason why Leon’s father gave a test to them. But, in the
name of love they accepted each other despite those differences. They surpassed the
challenge. To love is to sacrifice. To love is to take the risk. Fear is the enemy when it
comes to decision making. People can do everything in the name of love.

My Father Goes To Court also tackled about social class differences. The
differences between the social classes were very evident. With the way of living,
physical features and lifestyle you can already see it. Some are taking advantage of
their social standing in order to lift themselves or remove something they hate. It is the
abuse of power. Social class is an issue in society and so is poverty. Poverty is one
reason why families are struggling to survive. Some families who are in the lower class
are much happier than those who are in the upper class and because of that, conflicts
arise. Just like when the wealthy man accused the narrator's father of stealing the spirit
of their food. Some people are not contented with their life which urges them to also
make others miserable just like them.

The most important lesson from both stories is to always cherish, respect and
honor your family because, at the end of the day, they will always come back to them
whether the sun shines or the rain pours.

The two stories have their own beauty, importance, and lessons that we can
relate to our lives. Both authors didn’t fail to show their patriotism and insights regarding
social issues. Filipino culture, traditions, beliefs, and traits were seen. These stories
serve as eye-openers for the current and succeeding generations. These stories are
indeed treasures which will surely remain not just in the Philippine Literature but also in
the hearts of many people.

37
Appendices

38
 How My Brother Leon Brought Home A Wife

(American Colonial Literature)

By Manuel E. Arguilla

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 toward the west. 

She moved close to him and slipped her arm through his. And after a while she said
quietly. 

39
"You love Nagrebcan, don't you, Noel?"

Ca Celin drove away hi-yi-ing to his horse loudly. At the bend of the camino real where
the big duhat tree grew, he rattled the handle of his braided rattan whip against the
spokes of the wheel. We stood alone on the roadside. 

The sun was in our eyes, for it was dipping into the bright sea. The sky was wide and
deep and very blue above us: but along the saw-tooth rim of the Katayaghan hills to the
southwest flamed huge masses of clouds. Before us the fields swam in a golden haze
through which floated big purple and red and yellow bubbles when I looked at the
sinking sun. Labang's white coat, which I had wshed and brushed that morning with
coconut husk, glistened like beaten cotton under the lamplight and his horns appeared
tipped with fire.

He faced the sun and from his mouth came a call so loud and vibrant that the earth
seemed to tremble underfoot. And far away in the middle of the field a cow lowed softly
in answer. 

"Hitch him to the cart, Baldo," my brother Leon said, laughing, and she laughed with him
a big uncertainly, and I saw that he had put his arm around her shoulders. 

"Why does he make that sound?" she asked. "I have never heard the like of it."

"There is not another like it," my brother Leon said. "I have yet to hear another bull call
like Labang. In all the world there is no other bull like him."

She was smiling at him, and I stopped in the act of tying the sinta across Labang's neck
to the opposite end of the yoke, because her teeth were very white, her eyes were so
full of laughter, and there was the small dimple high up on her right cheek. 

"If you continue to talk about him like that, either I shall fall in love with him or become
greatly jealous."

My brother Leon laughed and she laughed and they looked at each other and it seemed
to me there was a world of laughter between them and in them. 

I climbed into the cart over the wheel and Labang would have bolted, for he was always
like that, but I kept a firm hold on his rope. He was restless and would not stand still, so
that my brother Leon had to say "Labang" several times. When he was quiet again, my
brother Leon lifted the trunks into the cart, placing the smaller on top. 

She looked down once at her high-heeled shoes, then she gave her left hand to my
brother Leon, placed a foot on the hub of the wheel, and in one breath she had swung
up into the cart. Oh, the fragrance of her. But Labang was fairly dancing with impatience

40
and it was all I could do to keep him from running away. 

"Give me the rope, Baldo," my brother Leon said. "Maria, sit down on the hay and hold
on to anything." Then he put a foot on the left shaft and that instand labang leaped
forward. My brother Leon laughed as he drew himself up to the top of the side of the
cart and made the slack of the rope hiss above the back of labang. The wind whistled
against my cheeks and the rattling of the wheels on the pebbly road echoed in my ears. 

She sat up straight on the bottom of the cart, legs bent togther to one side, her skirts
spread over them so that only the toes and heels of her shoes were visible. her eyes
were on my brother Leon's back; I saw the wind on her hair. When Labang slowed
down, my brother Leon handed to me the rope. I knelt on the straw inside the cart and
pulled on the rope until Labang was merely shuffling along, then I made him turn
around. 

"What is it you have forgotten now, Baldo?" my brother Leon said. 

I did not say anything but tickled with my fingers the rump of Labang; and away we
went---back to where I had unhitched and waited for them. The sun had sunk and down
from the wooded sides of the Katayaghan hills shadows were stealing into the fields.
High up overhead the sky burned with many slow fires. 

When I sent Labang down the deep cut that would take us to the dry bed of the Waig
which could be used as a path to our place during the dry season, my brother Leon laid
a hand on my shoulder and said sternly: 

"Who told you to drive through the fields tonight?"

His hand was heavy on my shoulder, but I did not look at him or utter a word until we
were on the rocky bottom of the Waig. 

"Baldo, you fool, answer me before I lay the rope of Labang on you. Why do you follow
the Wait instead of the camino real?"

His fingers bit into my shoulder. 

"Father, he told me to follow the Waig tonight, Manong."

Swiftly, his hand fell away from my shoulder and he reached for the rope of Labang.
Then my brother Leon laughed, and he sat back, and laughing still, he said: 

"And I suppose Father also told you to hitch Labang to the cart and meet us with him
instead of with Castano and the calesa."

Without waiting for me to answer, he turned to her and said, "Maria, why do you think
Father should do that, now?" He laughed and added, "Have you ever seen so many

41
stars before?"

I looked back and they were sitting side by side, leaning against the trunks, hands
clasped across knees. Seemingly, but a man's height above the tops of the steep banks
of the Wait, hung the stars. But in the deep gorge the shadows had fallen heavily, and
even the white of Labang's coat was merely a dim, grayish blur. Crickets chirped from
their homes in the cracks in the banks. The thick, unpleasant smell of dangla bushes
and cooling sun-heated earth mingled with the clean, sharp scent of arrais roots
exposed to the night air and of the hay inside the cart. 

"Look, Noel, yonder is our star!" Deep surprise and gladness were in her voice. Very
low in the west, almost touching the ragged edge of the bank, was the star, the biggest
and brightest in the sky. 

"I have been looking at it," my brother Leon said. "Do you remember how I would tell
you that when you want to see stars you must come to Nagrebcan?"

"Yes, Noel," she said. "Look at it," she murmured, half to herself. "It is so many times
bigger and brighter than it was at Ermita beach."

"The air here is clean, free of dust and smoke."

"So it is, Noel," she said, drawing a long breath. 

"Making fun of me, Maria?"

She laughed then and they laughed together and she took my brother Leon's hand and
put it against her face. 

I stopped Labang, climbed down, and lighted the lantern that hung from the cart
between the wheels. 

"Good boy, Baldo," my brother Leon said as I climbed back into the cart, and my heart
sant. 

Now the shadows took fright and did not crowd so near. Clumps of andadasi and arrais
flashed into view and quickly disappeared as we passed by. Ahead, the elongated
shadow of Labang bobbled up and down and swayed drunkenly from side to side, for
the lantern rocked jerkily with the cart. 

"Have we far to go yet, Noel?" she asked. 

"Ask Baldo," my brother Leon said, "we have been neglecting him."

"I am asking you, Baldo," she said. 

42
Without looking back, I answered, picking my words slowly: 

"Soon we will get out of the Wait and pass into the fields. After the fields is home---
Manong."

"So near already."

I did not say anything more because I did not know what to make of the tone of her
voice as she said her last words. All the laughter seemed to have gone out of her. I
waited for my brother Leon to say something, but he was not saying anything. Suddenly
he broke out into song and the song was 'Sky Sown with Stars'---the same that he and
Father sang when we cut hay in the fields at night before he went away to study. He
must have taught her the song because she joined him, and her voice flowed into his
like a gentle stream meeting a stronger one. And each time the wheels encountered a
big rock, her voice would catch in her throat, but my brother Leon would sing on, until,
laughing softly, she would join him again. 

Then we were climbing out into the fields, and through the spokes of the wheels the
light of the lantern mocked the shadows. Labang quickened his steps. The jolting
became more frequent and painful as we crossed the low dikes. 

"But it is so very wide here," she said. The light of the stars broke and scattered the
darkness so that one could see far on every side, though indistinctly. 

"You miss the houses, and the cars, and the people and the noise, don't you?" My
brother Leon stopped singing. 

"Yes, but in a different way. I am glad they are not here."

With difficulty I turned Labang to the left, for he wanted to go straight on. He was
breathing hard, but I knew he was more thirsty than tired. In a little while we drope up
the grassy side onto the camino real. 

"---you see," my brother Leon was explaining, "the camino real curves around the foot of
the Katayaghan hills and passes by our house. We drove through the fields because---
but I'll be asking Father as soon as we get home."

"Noel," she said. 

"Yes, Maria."

"I am afraid. He may not like me."

"Does that worry you still, Maria?" my brother Leon said. "From the way you talk, he
might be an ogre, for all the world. Except when his leg that was wounded in the
Revolution is troubling him, Father is the mildest-tempered, gentlest man I know."

43
We came to the house of Lacay Julian and I spoke to Labang loudly, but Moning did not
come to the window, so I surmised she must be eating with the rest of her family. And I
thought of the food being made ready at home and my mouth watered. We met the
twins, Urong and Celin, and I said "Hoy!" calling them by name. And they shouted back
and asked if my brother Leon and his wife were with me. And my brother Leon shouted
to them and then told me to make Labang run; their answers were lost in the noise of
the wheels. 

I stopped labang on the road before our house and would have gotten down but my
brother Leon took the rope and told me to stay in the cart. He turned Labang into the
open gate and we dashed into our yard. I thought we would crash into the camachile
tree, but my brother Leon reined in Labang in time. There was light downstairs in the
kitchen, and Mother stood in the doorway, and I could see her smiling shyly. My brother
Leon was helping Maria over the wheel. The first words that fell from his lips after he
had kissed Mother's hand were: 

"Father... where is he?"

"He is in his room upstairs," Mother said, her face becoming serious. "His leg is
bothering him again."

I did not hear anything more because I had to go back to the cart to unhitch Labang. But
I hardly

tied him under the barn when I heard Father calling me. I met my brother Leon going to
bring up the trunks. As I passed through the kitchen, there were Mother and my sister
Aurelia and Maria and it seemed to me they were crying, all of them. 

There was no light in Father's room. There was no movement. He sat in the big
armchair by the western window, and a star shone directly through it. He was smoking,
but he removed the roll of tobacco from his mouth when he saw me. He laid it carefully
on the windowsill before speaking. 

"Did you meet anybody on the way?" he asked. 

"No, Father," I said. "Nobody passes through the Waig at night."

He reached for his roll of tobacco and hithced himself up in the chair. 

"She is very beautiful, Father."

"Was she afraid of Labang?" My father had not raised his voice, but the room seemed
to resound with it. And again I saw her eyes on the long curving horns and the arm of
my brother Leon around her shoulders. 

44
"No, Father, she was not afraid."

"On the way---"

"She looked at the stars, Father. And Manong Leon sang."

"What did he sing?"

"---Sky Sown with Stars... She sang with him."

He was silent again. I could hear the low voices of Mother and my sister Aurelia
downstairs. There was also the voice of my brother Leon, and I thought that Father's
voice must have been like it when Father was young. He had laid the roll of tobacco on
the windowsill once more. I watched the smoke waver faintly upward from the lighted
end and vanish slowly into the night outside. 

The door opened and my brother Leon and Maria came in. 

"Have you watered Labang?" Father spoke to me. 

I told him that Labang was resting yet under the barn. 

"It is time you watered him, my son," my father said. 

I looked at Maria and she was lovely. She was tall. Beside my brother Leon, she was
tall and very still. Then I went out, and in the darkened hall the fragrance of her was like
a morning when papayas are in bloom.

45
 My Father Goes To Court
Carlos Bulosan

When I was four, I lived with my mother and brothers and sisters in a small town on the
island of Luzon. Father’s farm had been destroyed in 1918 by one of our sudden
Philippine floods, so several years afterwards we all lived in the town though he
preferred living in the country. We had as a next door neighbour a very rich man, whose
sons and daughters seldom came out of the house. While we boys and girls played and
sang in the sun, his children stayed inside and kept the windows closed. His house was
so tall that his children could look in the window of our house and watched us played, or
slept, or ate, when there was any food in the house to eat.

Now, this rich man’s servants were always frying and cooking something good, and the
aroma of the food was wafted down to us form the windows of the big house. We hung
about and took all the wonderful smells of the food into our beings. Sometimes, in the
morning, our whole family stood outside the windows of the rich man’s house and
listened to the musical sizzling of thick strips of bacon or ham. I can remember one
afternoon when our neighbour’s servants roasted three chickens. The chickens were
young and tender and the fat that dripped into the burning coals gave off an enchanting
odour. We watched the servants turn the beautiful birds and inhaled the heavenly spirit
that drifted out to us.

Some days the rich man appeared at a window and glowered down at us. He looked at
us one by one, as though he were condemning us. We were all healthy because we
went out in the sun and bathed in the cool water of the river that flowed from the
mountains into the sea. Sometimes we wrestled with one another in the house before
we went to play. We were always in the best of spirits and our laughter was contagious.
Other neighbours who passed by our house often stopped in our yard and joined us in
laughter.

As time went on, the rich man’s children became thin and anaemic, while we grew even
more robust and full of life. Our faces were bright and rosy, but theirs were pale and
sad. The rich man started to cough at night; then he coughed day and night. His wife
began coughing too. Then the children started to cough, one after the other. At night
their coughing sounded like the barking of a herd of seals. We hung outside their
windows and listened to them. We wondered what happened. We knew that they were
not sick from the lack of nourishment because they were still always frying something
delicious to eat.

One day the rich man appeared at a window and stood there a long time. He looked at
my sisters, who had grown fat in laughing, then at my brothers, whose arms and legs
were like the molave, which is the sturdiest tree in the Philippines. He banged down the
window and ran through his house, shutting all the windows.

From that day on, the windows of our neighbour’s house were always closed. The
children did not come out anymore. We could still hear the servants cooking in the

46
kitchen, and no matter how tight the windows were shut, the aroma of the food came to
us in the wind and drifted gratuitously into our house.
One morning a policeman from the presidencia came to our house with a sealed paper.
The rich man had filed a complaint against us. Father took me with him when he went to
the town clerk and asked him what it was about. He told Father the man claimed that for
years we had been stealing the spirit of his wealth and food.

When the day came for us to appear in court, father brushed his old Army uniform and
borrowed a pair of shoes from one of my brothers. We were the first to arrive. Father sat
on a chair in the centre of the courtroom. Mother occupied a chair by the door. We
children sat on a long bench by the wall. Father kept jumping up from his chair and
stabbing the air with his arms, as though we were defending himself before an
imaginary jury.

The rich man arrived. He had grown old and feeble; his face was scarred with deep
lines. With him was his young lawyer. Spectators came in and almost filled the chairs.
The judge entered the room and sat on a high chair. We stood in a hurry and then sat
down again.

After the courtroom preliminaries, the judge looked at the Father. “Do you have a
lawyer?” he asked.

“I don’t need any lawyer, Judge,” he said.

“Proceed,” said the judge.

The rich man’s lawyer jumped up and pointed his finger at Father. “Do you or you do not
agree that you have been stealing the spirit of the complaint’s wealth and food?”

“I do not!” Father said.

“Do you or do you not agree that while the complaint’s servants cooked and fried fat
legs of lamb or young chicken breast you and your family hung outside his windows and
inhaled the heavenly spirit of the food?”

“I agree.” Father said.

“Do you or do you not agree that while the complaint and his children grew sickly and
tubercular you and your family became strong of limb and fair in complexion?”

“I agree.” Father said.

“How do you account for that?”

Father got up and paced around, scratching his head thoughtfully. Then he said, “I
would like to see the children of complaint, Judge.”

47
“Bring in the children of the complaint.”

They came in shyly. The spectators covered their mouths with their hands, they were so
amazed to see the children so thin and pale. The children walked silently to a bench
and sat down without looking up. They stared at the floor and moved their hands
uneasily.

Father could not say anything at first. He just stood by his chair and looked at them.
Finally he said, “I should like to cross – examine the complaint.”

“Proceed.”

“Do you claim that we stole the spirit of your wealth and became a laughing family while
yours became morose and sad?” Father said.

“Yes.”

“Do you claim that we stole the spirit of your food by hanging outside your windows
when your servants cooked it?” Father said.

“Yes.”

“Then we are going to pay you right now,” Father said. He walked over to where we
children were sitting on the bench and took my straw hat off my lap and began filling it
up with centavo pieces that he took out of his pockets. He went to Mother, who added a
fistful of silver coins. My brothers threw in their small change.

“May I walk to the room across the hall and stay there for a few minutes, Judge?” Father
said.

“As you wish.”

“Thank you,” father said. He strode into the other room with the hat in his hands. It was
almost full of coins. The doors of both rooms were wide open.

“Are you ready?” Father called.

“Proceed.” The judge said.

The sweet tinkle of the coins carried beautifully in the courtroom. The spectators turned
their faces toward the sound with wonder. Father came back and stood before the
complaint.

“Did you hear it?” he asked.

48
“Hear what?” the man asked.

“The spirit of the money when I shook this hat?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you are paid,” Father said.

The rich man opened his mouth to speak and fell to the floor without a sound. The
lawyer rushed to his aid. The judge pounded his gravel.

“Case dismissed.” He said.

Father strutted around the courtroom the judge even came down from his high chair to
shake hands with him. “By the way,” he whispered, “I had an uncle who died laughing.”

“You like to hear my family laugh, Judge?” Father asked?

“Why not?”

“Did you hear that children?” father said.

My sisters started it. The rest of us followed them soon the spectators were laughing
with us, holding their bellies and bending over the chairs. And the laughter of the judge
was the loudest of all.

49
 The Rich Man, Poor Man

Once upon a time there lived a poor man named Ali. He worked hard for his living and
was contented with whatever he had. Now Ali had a neighbour Kasim who was as
stingy as he was rich. It never gave him pleasure to see others, specially his poor
neighbour, happy. He was always on the look out for an excuse to get Ali into trouble.

One day, Kasim held a feast in his house. The aroma of all the delicacies cooked in his
house wafted in the wind and spread all over the neighborhood. Kasim, of course never
cared to invite his poor neighbour. Instead, he peeped over from his balcony into his
neighbour’s courtyard. To his consternation, he saw the poor man sitting and enjoying
the delicious smell coming from his kitchen. Kasim’s heart almost stopped in shock.

“What!” thought he, “How dare that pauper inhale the aroma from my kitchen? My
Kitchen! The aroma from the food cooked with my money! The rascal! I will make him
pay for this! I will take him to the Qazi and demand justice!”

Seething with anger, Kasim marched to Ali’s house. Without so much as a greeting, he
shouted to his neighbour.

“You robber, you thief! How dare you steal from my house!”

Poor Ali could not understand what theft he was being accused of. Without enlightening
him, Kasim dragged the poor man to the Qazi. Word spread like wildfire and a great
crowd gathered to watch the proceedings.

Kasim stood before the Qazi and presented his case in a loud and pompous voice.

“Your Honour, this man had the audacity to sit in his backyard and without so much as
lifting a finger, enjoy the delicious aroma of food coming from my kitchen. I demand
payment for the pleasure that he enjoyed at my expense. Your Honour, you have
always been just and I am sure that you will mete out justice in this case too.”

Indeed the Qazi was a just man - as honourable and witty as he was just. He listened
quietly - the shock on his face was slowly replaced by a twinkle in his eyes. Now he
turned to Ali.

“ Is what this man says true? Did you enjoy at his expense?”

“Yes, your Honor, but I could not help it.”

“Ali, you have to pay Kasim for the favour enjoyed. The court orders both of you to
come here tomorrow at the same time. By God, justice will be done!”

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Kasim gave Ali a scornful look and walked out of the place with a victorious smile on his
lips. Poor Ali was bewildered. Just as he was leaving, the Qazi caleed to him to a corner
and whispered something in his ear. Ali’s face lit up and he hurried to his house.

Next day, the court was overflowing. The whole town, which knew about the low
character of Kasim and the innocent nature of Ali, were curious as to how their Qazi
would solve this problem. Both Kasim and Ali were brought before the Qazi.

Ali carried with him a big box. Kasim’s face glowed with anticipation as he recognized
Ali’s money box.

‘All my money, your honour, said Ali.

“Okay. Now, shake the box so that all of us can be sure your box contains money”.

Ali shook the money box vigorously and there was a loud jingling noise. The Qazi
turned to Kasim.

“Oh Kasim, doesn’t that sound lovely?”

“Aah, yes, yes, Your honour”.

“Ali, shake the box once more”, the Qazi commanded. Ali obeyed.

“Kasim, don’t you feel happy to hear the sound of so many coins?” the Qazi queried.

His eyes glittering, Kasim exclaimed, “Oh your honour, the sound of that money gives
me utmost pleasure!” so saying, the greedy man was about to grab the money box from
Ali.

“Don’t you dare touch it!” The grim voice of the Qazi rang out. “Ali has paid you in full
measure. Just as the aroma of your food gave him pleasure, so did the sound of his
money gave you pleasure. You have been paid back in the same coin- Justice has been
done.”

The court room rang with thundering applause for the Qazi for his keen wit and
intelligence. The Qazi, his voice still grim, pronounced further: “Kasim, pay Ali one
hundred gold coins and punishment for harassing your neighbour and disturbing peace
of his household”

Ali returned home happy man and Kasim a wiser man.

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 The Son From America

by Isaac Bashevis Singer

The village of Lentshin was tiny. It was surrounded by little huts with thatchad roofs.
Between the huts there were fields, where the owners planted vegetables or pastured
their goats.

In the smallest of these huts lived old Berl, a man in his eighties, and his wife Berlcha.
Old Berl was one of the Jews driven from Russiawho had settled in Poland. He was
short, broad-shouldered, and had a small white beard, and in summer and winter he
wore a sheepskin hat, a padded cotton jacket, and stout boots. He had a half acre of
field, a cow, a goat, and chickens.

The couple had a son, Samuel, who had gone to America forty years ago. It was said in
Lentshin that he became a millionaire there. Every month, the Lentshin letter carrier
brought old Berl a money order and a letter that no one could read because many of the
words were English. How much money Samuel sent his parents remained a secret.
They never seemed to use the money. What for? The garden, the cow, and the goat
provided most of their needs.

No one cared to know where Berl kept the money that his son sent him. The hut
consisted of one room, which contained all their belongings: the table, the shelf for
meat, the shelf for milk foods, the two beds, and the clay oven. Sometimes the chickens
roosted in the woodshed and sometimes, when it was cold, in a coop near the oven.
The goat, too, found shelter inside when the weather was bad. The more prosperous
villagers had kerosene lamps, but Berl and his wife did not believe in new gadgets. Only
for the Sabbath would Berlcha buy candles at the store. In summer, the couple got up at
sunrise and retired with the chickens. In the long winter evenings, Berlcha spun flax and
Berl sat beside her in the silence of those who enjoy their rest.

Once in a while when Berl came home from the synagogue, he brought news to his
wife. In Warsaw there were strikers who demanded that the czar abdicate. Somebody
by the name of Dr. Herzl* had come up with the idea that Jews should settle again
inPalestine. Berlcha listened and shook her head. Her face was yellowish and wrinkled
like a cabbage leaf. She was half deaf. Berl had to repeat each word he said to her.

Here in Lentshin nothing happened except usual events: a cow gave birth to a calf, a
young couple got married. Actually, Lentshin had become a village with few young
people. The young men left for Zakroczym, for Warsaw, and sometimes for the United

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States. Like Samuel, they sent letters and photographs in which the men wore top hats
and the women fancy dresses.

Berl and Berlcha also received such photographs. But their eyes were failing and
neither he nor she had glasses. They could barely make out the pictures. Samuel had
sons and daughters—and grandchildren. Their names were so strange that Berl and
Berlcha could never remember them. But what difference do names make?America was
on the other side of the ocean, at the edge of the world. A talmud* teacher who came to
Lentshin had said that Americans walked with their heads down and their feet up. Berl
and Berlcha could not grasp this. How was it possible? But since the teacher said so it
must be true.

One Friday morning, when Berlcha was kneading the dough for the Sabbath loaves, the
door opened and a nobleman entered. He was so tall that he had to bend down to get
through the door. He was followed by the coachman who carried two leather suitcases.
In astonishment Berlcha raised her eyes.The nobleman looked around and said to the
coachman in Yiddish, "Here it is." He took out a silver ruble and paid him. Then he said,
"You can go now."

When the coachman closed the door, the nobleman said, "Mother, it's me, your son
Samuel-Sam."

Berlcha heard the words and her legs grew numb. The nobleman hugged her, kissed
her forehead, both her cheeks, and Berlcha began to cackle like a hen, "My son!" At
that moment Berl came in from the woodshed, his arms piled with logs. The goat
followed him. When he saw a nobleman kissing his wife, Berl dropped the wood and
exclaimed, "What is this?"

The nobleman let go of Berlcha and embraced Berl. "Father! "

For a long time Berl was unable to utter a sound. Then he asked, "Are you Samuel?"

"Yes, Father, I am Samuel. "

"Well, peace be with you. " Berl grasped his son's hand. He was still not sure that he
was not being fooled. Samuel wasn't as tall and heavy as this man, but then Berl
reminded himself that Samuel was only fifteen years old when he had left home. Berl
asked, "Why didn't you let us know that you were coming?"

"Didn't you receive my cable?" Samuel asked.

Berl did not know what a cable was. Berlcha had scraped the dough from her hands
and enfolded her son.

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 "I never thought I could live to see this. Now, I am happy to die," Berlcha said. Berl was
amazed.

These were just the words he could have said earlier. After a while Berl came to himself
and said, "Pescha, you will have to make a double Sabbath pudding in addition to the
stew."

It was years since Berl had called Berlcha by her given name. Only now did Berlcha
begin to cry.

Yellow tears ran from her eyes, and everything became dim. Then she called out, "It's
Friday—I have to prepare for the Sabbath." Yes, she had to knead the dough for the
loaves. With such a guest, she had to make a larger Sabbath stew. The winter day is
short and she must hurry. Her son understood what was worrying her, because he said,
"Mother, I will help you."

The nobleman took off his jacket and remained in his vest, on which hung a solidgold-
watch chain. H rolled up his sleeves. "Mother, I was a baker for many years in New
York," he said, and he began to knead the dough. Berlcha wept for joy. Her strength left
her, and she slumped onto the bed.

Berl said, "Women will always be women." And he went to the shed to get more wood.
The goat sat down near the oven; she gazed with surprise at this strange man.

The neighbors had heard the good news that Berl's son had arrived from America and
they came to greet him. The women began to help Berlcha prepare for the Sabbath.
Some laughed, some cried. The room was full of people, as at a wedding. After Berlcha
lit the candles, father and son went to the little synagogue across the street. A new
snow had fallen. The son took large steps, but Berl warned him, "Slow down."

In the synagogue the Jews sang their prayers. All the time, the snow outside kept
falling. When Berl and Samuel left the Holy Place, the village was unrecognizable.
Everything was covered in snow. One could see only the contours of the roofs and the
candles in the windows. Samuel said, "Nothing has changed here."

Berlcha had prepared fish, chicken soup with rice, meat, carrot stew. The family ate and
drank, and when it grew quiet for a while one could hear the chirping of the house
cricket.

After the final prayer Samuel asked, "Father, what did you do with all the money I sent
you?"

Berl raised his white brows. "It's here."

"Didn't you put it in a bank?"

54
"There is no bank in Lentshin."

"Where do you keep it?"

Berl hesitated. "One is not allowed to touch money on the Sabbath, but I will show you.
"He crouched beside the bed and began to shove something heavy. A boot appeared.
Its top was stuffed with straw. Berl removed the straw and the son saw that the boot
was full of gold coins. He lifted it.

"Father, this is a treasure!" he called out.

"Well."

"Why didn't you spend it?"

"On what? Thank God, we have everything."

"Why didn't you travel somewhere?"

"Where to? This is our home."

The son asked one question after the other, but Berl's answer was always the same:
They had everything. The garden, the cow, the goat, the chickens provided them with all
they needed. The son said, "If thieves knew about this, your lives wouldn't be safe."

"There are no thieves here."

"What will happen to the money?"

"You take it."

Slowly, Berl and Berlcha grew accustomed to their son and his American Yiddish.
Berlcha could hear him better now. She even recognized his voice. He was saying,
"Perhaps we should build a larger synagogue."

"The synagogue is big enough," Berl replied.

"Perhaps a home for old people."

"No one sleeps in the street."

The next day after the Sabbath meal was eaten, Berl and Berlcha lay down for a nap.
They soon began to snore. The goat, too, dozed off. The son put on his cloak and his
hat and went for a walk. He strode with his long legs across the marketplace. He
stretched out a hand and touched a roof. He had a desire to talk to someone, but it
seemed that the whole of Lentshin was asleep.

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Samuel returned home. Dusk had fallen. Berl went to the synagogue for the evening
prayers and the son remained with his mother. In the twilight Samuel put his hand into
his jacket pocket and touched his checkbook, his letters of credit. He had come here
with big plans. He had a suitcase filled with presents for his parents. He wanted to help
the village. He brought not only his own money but funds from the Lentshin Society in
New York. But this village needed nothing. From the synagogue one could hear people
chanting. The cricket, silent all day, started again its chirping. Berlcha began to sway
and utter holy rhymes inherited from mothers and grandmothers.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY

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https://www.write4fun.net/view-entry/87495

http://gabrielslibrary.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-father-goes-to-court-carlos-bulusan.html

http://www.seasite.niu.edu/tagalog/literature/Short%20Stories/How%20My%20Brother
%20Leon%20Brought%20Home%20A%20Wife.htm

https://www.worthschools.net/userfiles/542/Classes/16165/The%20Son%20From
%20America%20Full%20Text%20PDF.pdf

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