Armenian and Indian bazaars, where ivory and the rich fabrics of the Orient are sold; cafés and drugstores, harness-shops, tobacco-shops, and drygoods-stores, emporiums of every kind,--are found on the Escolta, where the prices would astonish any one not yet accustomed to the manners of the Far East. During the morning hours the _quilez_ and the _carromata_ rattle along the bumpy cobblestones, the native driver, or _cochero_, in a white shirt, smoking a cigarette, and resting his bare feet upon the dashboard. Behind the curtain of a passing _quilez_ you can catch a glimpse of brown eyes, raven hair, and olive-tinted cheeks, displayed with all the coquetry of a Manila belle. A Filipino family in a rickety cart, tilted at an impossible angle, are drawn by a moth-eaten pony, mostly bones. Public conveyances--if these are not indeed a myth--are most exasperating. You can never find one when you want it, even at the "Public Carriage Station." If by chance you come across one in the street, the driver will ignore your signal and drive on. Evidently he selects this walk in life merely to discharge the obligations of his conscience, for he never seems to want a passenger, nor will he take one till he finds his vehicle possessed by strategy. The gamins of the corner offer eagerly to find a _carromata_ for you, but they frequently forget the object of their mission in their search. Sometimes, when you have ceased to think about a _carromata_, one of these small ragamuffins will pursue you, with a sheepish-looking coachman and disreputable vehicle in tow. Then twenty boys crowd round and claim rewards for having found a rig for you; as they all look alike, you toss a ten-cent piece among the crowd and let them fight it out among themselves. The driver will begin by making some objection. He will ask to be discharged at noon, or he will make you promise not to turn him over to another _Americano_. When the preliminary arrangements are completed, lighting his cigarette, he cramps himself up in the box, and, maintaining a continual clucking, larrups his skinny pony as the crazy gig goes rocking down the street. The driver never seems to know the town; even the post-office and the Bridge of Spain are _terra incognita_ to him. And so you guide him, saying "_silla_," left, or "_mano_," right, "_direcho_," straight ahead, and "_'spera_," stop. You must be careful when you stop, however, as while you are busy with your purchases, your man is liable to run away. While, as a general rule, he shakes his head at the repeated inquires of "_ocupato?_" (taken?) even though the carriage may not be engaged, if some one more unscrupulous or desperate should step in, you would find yourself without a rig. And the result would be the same if dinner-time came round, and he had not had "_sow sow_." Even the fact that he had not collected any fare would not deter him from his resolution.