The houses, like those of the Pacific islands generally, are built of bamboo frames--heavy pieces for the framework itself and woven bamboo splints for the side sheathing. The roof is carefully thatched with the leaves of the nipa-palm and these are sewn into a thick mat with ratan. In places where the ground is likely to be overflowed, each house is set on posts so that the floors are several feet from the ground. In this case the "pig" does not "live in the parlor"; the pigs and chickens occupy the "ground floor." All told, the Filipino village mansion may not be very ornate, but it is extremely comfortable. The larger villages and cities are built much alike. There is a plaza or public square. Around the four sides, and facing the plaza, are the church, government buildings, and stores. The more pretentious residences are near by. Further away these give place to the Filipino, or "nipa houses," as they are called. The street surrounding the plaza is broad and well kept; elsewhere the streets are quagmires in the rainy, and dust holes in the dry season. Pretty nearly always there is a Chinese quarter that is crowded and dirty; quite likely, too, the best stores in the town are kept by Chinese merchants. That is the way the Spaniards laid out their cities and towns in Spain; they did not change the plan in the Philippines. The houses built for them in the islands are much like those in Spanish towns--adobe walls plastered with stucco, and roofed with tiles. [Illustration: The harbor of the city. Scene on the Pasig River, Manila] Manila is the capital and commercial centre of the islands. It is a city about as large as Seattle, and is situated at the head of a landlocked body of water, Manila Bay. Corregidor Island, a little dark-green islet, guards the entrance to the bay; and one cannot see the wicked guns that are ready to pour a raking fire into a hostile fleet until one is within a few hundred yards of the island. The only thing visible at a distance is a flag flying from a high mast; but it is the Stars and Stripes that bends to the east wind. The bay is a good-sized bit of water, too. In the middle of it one can just barely see the gray, misty hills that surround it. Then the shore line begins to take shape and the mouth of Pasig River seems to open in front of the incoming steamship. In a few minutes the harbor of the city is in sight. Steamships, with their painted stacks and funnels, and sailing vessels, with every sort of mast and rigging, crowd the harbor. Row-boats by the hundred are moving in every direction, and little steam-launches and motor-boats are spitting viciously as they go back and forth.