There are only a dozen or fifteen workers in the millinery shops, and it does not seem worth while in this community to give a millinery course for trade purposes. There is a large demand for needlework, and the shops taking orders for it and also having articles on sale, report a thriving business. The workers earn very little, however, the average among a dozen women talked with being from fifty to sixty cents a day, while some earn only thirty cents. This is the usual state of affairs among the makers of hand work, as indeed in most home industries. The shopkeepers say they are handicapped by the fact that the same women who work for them also work for private customers, and underbid them. One shop maintains that it earns only a 10% commission and its stamping charges. Another shop employs Portuguese women on plantations and says it not only pays their fare into town when they come for work, but that work is often taken out to the plantations at the shop’s expense. It was not possible to visit any of these plantation workers and learn what they earn. The work offered for sale in most of the shops indicates that training in the designing and selecting of patterns would be desirable; and none of the shops show the pillow laces, so well made as by the girls of the Industrial School. LEI MAKING AND LAUHALA WEAVING The makers of leis—the beautiful garlands of carnations, ilima, ginger or hydrangea interwoven with maile, forming the hat and neck-encircling masses of fragrance and color which speed departing friends, or bedeck luau and poi luncheon guests—enliven the street corners of the shopping district at all times, sitting in the shade of nearby buildings with their ti-leaf covered baskets by their sides, busily making the more durable leis of paper, shell or seeds, and almost invariably discussing suffrage. On steamer days the downtown districts and piers are alive with men and women vendors of this most characteristic native ornament.