So many of the native houses with their quaint gables and double or triple roofs have been pulled down, and brick ones of European pattern erected instead, that scarcely any purely native street remains. The one truly native quarter is a long narrow bazaar known as Sampeng. It is about a mile and a quarter in length, and contains a very mixed population of Indians, Siamese, and Chinese. It resembles somewhat a street in Canton, but lacks the wealth of elaborately carved and gilded sign-boards, that gives such a decidedly local atmosphere to a purely Chinese street. Stretched overhead, from side to side, are pieces of torn cloth and matting, that act quite as effectively in keeping out the sun as in imprisoning that awful combination of foul odours that seems to be the possession of all Oriental thoroughfares. The small gutter which runs in front of each house is full of stagnant water or of the accumulated domestic rubbish of the people who dwell by its side. This long narrow bazaar, however, is not without its own attractions. Here are gathered together specimens of all the native produce, and here too work a few exponents of each of the native crafts. Blacksmiths and weavers are plying their several trades; workers in gold and silver are fashioning boxes and ornaments for the rich, and the lapidaries are polishing stones for the jewellers to set. Peep-shows and open-air theatres tempt the idle to linger, and numbers of busy toilers jostle each other as they make their way to and fro over the uneven, roughly paved foot-path. At night, the shops are closed, but the gambling-houses, opium dens, and brothels are thronged by the lowest of the low. At one end of the bazaar is the chief idol manufactory of the country. The thousands of temples that are scattered all over Siam, require a large stock of images; and the devout are frequent donors of representations of Buddha, of values proportionate to their means. Most of the idols are made according to one or other of the following methods.