a flowing skirt around which is wound a broad strip of cloth tucked in at the waist and forming a sort of overskirt. Above this is a waist of gauze made low at the neck, with bell-like sleeves cut off at the elbow. The stuff is so thin that the skin shows through, and it must be delightfully cool; it is made of the fiber of the pineapple and other plants. Around the neck is a broad starched collar. Many of the women wear heelless slippers and the

What would you think if half the men and boys of your town should come out with their shirts outside their trousers? That is what they do here. It seems strange at first; but it is cooler to wear one's shirt in that way, and we must remember that we are not very far north of the Equator. Some shirts are so thin that we can see the brown skin showing through as they

flap about in the breeze. The men of the better classes wear coats, and some have on suits of white muslin. Many Americans here are dressed in white linen or yellow khaki, and they tell us we had best buy such suits for ourselves. We meet better clad natives as we go into the Escolta, and find that the Filipinos of the higher classes dress much as we do.

How crowded it is! The sidewalks are about three feet wide, with hardly room enough for three persons abreast. We are often shoved into the roadway and have to look out for the carts, carromatas, and carriages which are hurrying in both directions. Every coachman is flogging his pony, and we wonder if the Filipinos know how to drive slowly.

The only slow things on the road are the carabaos, or water buffaloes, dragging great drays loaded with hemp, tobacco, and all sorts of goods. There come two now, one following the other, each pulling a dray. Jump into this doorway and wait until they pass.

Did you ever see animals so ugly? They are of the cow family, but I am sure no respectable American cow would acknowledge the relationship. Their skins look more like that of a pig, and the thin, bristling black hair so stands out upon them that you can see the dark skin shining through. Most of the carabaos are black, although we now and then see some blond ones with white hair and a rosy red hide.

They are all very dirty, for they are like pigs, in that they wallow in the mud. They delight in the water, and must have their baths several times a day, or they will grow crazy. For this reason the drivers of the carts

stop now and then as they cross a river or canal, and allow their beasts to take a ten-minute bath. The huge animals walk down the steps and lie down, with nothing but their heads showing out. We may see scores of them so bathing during any half-hour's walk along the waterways of Manila.

The carabaos are very valuable to the Philippines. They are strong, and can plow and harrow the muddy rice fields, where a horse or mule would sink through. They haul the drays in the towns, and do all kinds of draft work and farm work. Provided they get their baths, they are gentle. The children are fond of them, and boys and girls ride them as they feed in the pasture, and that without bridle or saddle. Carabaos give milk like cows, and their meat takes the place of beef among the poorer classes.

Here we are in the Escolta, the chief business street

of Manila.

The stores are smaller than at home, and each has one or two families living above it. Most of the stores have awnings out over the sidewalks; some have Spanish signs, and not a few are still owned by Spaniards.

Turning a corner we enter a quarter where nearly all the stores are Chinese. They look like little caves cut out of the walls, and are so full of calicoes and other merchandise that there is no room for cases or counters. The goods are piled up on the shelves, or hung from the ceilings, and even piled outside on the streets. The upper floors of the buildings extend over, shading the sidewalk, and in the windows above we see yellow-skinned, almond-eyed women and children looking out.

The Chinese are great traders, and many have come here to do business. There are fifty thousand in Manila, and more than one hundred thousand in the Philippine Islands. They sell merchandise in all parts of the archipelago. Some go about with packs of goods on their shoulders, peddling their wares from house to house; others are mechanics, and others work in the streets and on the plantations.

24. HOME LIFE AND THE MARKETS

WE

E have many friends in Manila, and through them are able to visit all classes of the people. Our first call is on the family of a Filipino official, who lives just out of the city. His house is a great two-storied building, with a beautiful garden about it shaded with palms and other tropical trees. A wide drive leads to the entrance, and we go upstairs to reach the living rooms of the family. The better class Filipinos live on the second floor, because it is more healthful well up from the ground. The servants have their quarters below, and the carriages and horses are often kept there.

Our friend's house has many large rooms with high ceilings and wide, airy halls. There is a balcony around the whole house at the second floor, into which the rooms open, and this balcony is walled with windows of lattice work, composed of the shells of pearl oysters so thin that they let in the light while they keep out the heat. The pearl windows are moved back in the evening, and the air blows through the house, making it delightfully cool.

The house is well furnished. It has its piano and organ, for the Filipinos are fond of music. There are large tables, many chairs of bent wood, and sofas of woven rattan. We are shown the sleeping rooms. The beds are twice as large as ours, and each has above it a mosquito netting which is let down at night. There are no springs. The bedsteads are covered with cane like a chair seat, and a thin comfort or mat takes the place of the thick mattress we have at home. In a warm climate like this the chief