The lower part of the city is almost like Amsterdam; it is traversed by canals, great and small, in which are fishing-smacks waiting to have the catch taken to market. Puffy, wheezy tugs are making fast to huge cascoes, or lighters; for the cargoes must be taken from the docks to the steamships and sailing-vessels out in the harbor. The Pasig is only ten or twelve miles in length. It flows from a near-by lake, and both sides of the river are lined with villages, and market-gardens, and duck-hatcheries. The business streets are crowded with carts and drays. Here and there are smart-looking carriages carrying well-groomed men, who talk little and look rich. There could not be more style and ceremony about them if they were in New York, London, or Paris. Trim-looking soldiers in khaki uniforms, native Filipinos in white suits, Chinese in silk gowns and long sleeves, native women wearing red skirts and black shawls, native coolies in loose blouses and short pantaloons--all go to make up the throng of the streets. Most of the houses are two stories in height with arcades or awnings that shelter the sidewalks. And such narrow sidewalks!--they are hardly wide enough for more than three people to walk abreast. But even the business houses are built for comfort. The roof has a broad overhang, and quite likely there is a covered veranda. Many of the Filipinos of Manila are educated and prosperous. Their houses are said to be furnished in European style, and likewise their clothing. Sure enough everything bears a "made in Germany" mark, but everything looks distinctly Filipino. The head of the family wears a suit of spotless white duck, but it has a military cut--and perhaps he goes about the house barefoot; if so, he knows what real comfort is. [Illustration: Extracting indigo in Ilocos Province, Philippine Islands] Mother and daughters wear skirts of beautiful brocaded silk, very wide and full; above the skirt is a loose garment much like a shirt-waist cut low at the neck, and over this a lace cape with a wide, flowing collar. Possibly they wear heelless slippers, but just as likely they, too, are barefoot--when no visitors are present. Perhaps such suits are not quite so becoming as the trim, tailor-made suits in New York, but they are a lot more comfortable. A short distance from the Escolta, or chief business street, is one of the many markets of Manila. The whole space is laid off with rows of bamboo booths. Pretty nearly everything to eat, to wear, or to furnish the house is on hand--or rather in loose piles--fish, duck's eggs, meat, rice, pinole, fruit of forty kinds, straw hats, straw sandals, straw raincoats, tin ware from America, wooden ware from Holland, and clay stoves "made in Manila."