“That’s all right,” Philip said in a pleasanter tone; “but it doesn’t give me back the negative. Next time, please find out before you interfere.” In all the foreign exhibits there were seen many objects with which the boys were only too familiar. For instance, looking through the door of a Javanese hut, Harry saw three cheap American clocks, all in a row; and on the veranda of the same house a man was presiding over a sewing-machine plainly inscribed with a well-known American trade-mark. Nevertheless, the little Javanese themselves were unusual enough: the men wore turbans of figured cotton, a tight-fitting jacket, and then, above their trousers, a short skirt or apron that hung about half-way down the thigh. Some also wore above their turbans wide straw hats. [Illustration: “THE MAN STOOD UP BESIDE HER, AND THEY WERE PHOTOGRAPHED TOGETHER.”] One of the women had a cute little baby in her arms. Philip put a silver coin into the baby’s hand, and was allowed to take its picture. But the father held the child. Philip said to Harry, as they walked away, “There’s a pretty baby”; then, hearing a gentle chuckle from a motherly-looking woman near him, hastened to add: “For that kind of a baby.” The party had left their chairs in a corner of the village, and were now on foot. As they walked around the inclosure they saw a woman and girl embroidering upon a veranda. The girl was about twelve or thirteen years old, had a tinge of pink in her cheeks, snappy black eyes, and shiny coarse hair. [Illustration: “HE WAS LAZILY SUNNING HIMSELF.”] Philip wanted a picture of her, and, after a talk with the man of the house, at last gained his consent. Philip had a little trouble in making the man comprehend that the girl must come out into the sunshine; but by pointing to the sun and to a side of the hut that was in its full glare, he finally had the little model, blushing prettily, posed in a good situation. The man stood up beside her, and they were photographed together. No sooner had Philip raised his camera than the sight-seers gathered eagerly about him, until he could hardly find space to reach the button. He pushed it in a hurry, and made his way out. Just a moment after, he secured an even better subject, entirely by accident. Upon another veranda sat a mature Javanese gentleman crouched down upon his heels. He was lazily sunning himself, and Philip leveled the camera and took him before he could say the Javanese for “Jack Robinson.” The man opened his blinking eyes at the click of the shutter, but only smiled indulgently, and resumed his basking, like a frog on a log. [Illustration: A YOUNG LADY FROM JAVA.] Leaving the Javanese village, and ignoring upon their way the appeals of a vender of Java cigarettes—“Ver’ sheap! two for five!”—they settled back in their chairs and plunged again into the outside thoroughfare. [Illustration]