"Who? That one who wears broad ribbon-like strings on his shoes? I don't know him. Don't you think he looks like a woman--I mean both of them--with their way of dressing? Aha, one of them--not the cross-eyed--has powder on his face, I think." "Oh, yes, yes. You know, in my native country in the planet Earth only women are fond of and use such gaudy colors and such kind of stockings; and, indeed, they are only proper for women. But we used to----" "But that's not all here; the worst is when these people use stockings--as I have had occasion to notice many times--stockings which are elaborately ornamented with the queerest fantastic designs; such as a burning dainty heart, a dove carrying a bunch of _dama de noche_ with its toes--rather, a falcon or vulture I should say--great goodness!--make the dove carry a flower in its claws!" "Aha, is that so? Why, thanks to goodness, in my native land no such queer people are to be found now, except very, very few. There used to be--but do you know what we call them in pure, simple Tagalog? We call them _binabae_; that is a bit worse than the English term 'sissy.' But from your own experience, tell me, Islao, what living being other than man have you observed making such a liberal display of gaudy colors in that most affected manner?" "Why, among plants you mean? Like the parasite with beautifully colored flowers hanging on that window?" "Well, not so low in the organic world as that," laughing heartily. "I don't mean a plant; I mean----" "Oh, I get your point. You mean among birds like the gayly colored rooster of that man who is now hawking in that store, don't you?" "Exactly, upon my wish, you have slipped from your tongue what I was precisely going to say." "And I think you know why the birds, most especially the males, do have such bright colors." "Why, yes; I suppose those smart young men have the same view in mind as that of the male birds, and meditate and dream that it is 'not proper at all for a man to be alone,' as, thinking of Priscilla, Miles Standish would say." "Possibly, possibly," laughing. Islao did not understand the allusion, but he let it pass. "Now be careful; don't speak loud," whispered Busyong. Presently the two friends who were the object of Busyong and Islao's rather severe remarks shuffled towards Busyong and Islao, stopping near the telegraph post beside them. The two chums were going to separate when one of them, the cross-eyed, jabbered, "Oh, you _teni espijo_, ah? _Porque? You ajos malo, eh?_" A sudden insuppressible peal of laughter was heard from Busyong and Islao, who soon tried to act as if they did not hear the blunder. "_Cosa ajos?_ Am no cook as you," said the other grinning over his glasses a little more easily than the first one. "_Cosa esti?_" asked the cross-eyed one, pointing to his eyes with his dirty-nailed finger. "T'at is call 'esquinting eyes.'" "Ah, yes. _Porque got espijo_ you, esquinting ais?"