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.

A wooden model of the desired image is first made. It is next covered with very thin silver-leaf, after which the wooden model is removed and the interior filled up with pitch. This is perhaps the most common method of making small cheap idols. The larger ones are first modelled in wax, and then covered with a cement made of fine sand and clay. This is dried in the sun and finally heated in a furnace, when the wax melts and is collected for use another time. Melted brass is then poured over the image and evenly spread until the whole surface is covered with a thin coating of metal. A great many gilded images are made, the gold-leaf being laid over a covering of black pitch. Until the outer layer of gold, silver, or brass has been deposited on the carved or moulded figure, and until the eyes have been placed therein, it is not considered in any way sacred. The two last operations are frequently attended with great ceremony at the home of the owner, in the presence of many priests.

In every temple there are "printed gods". These are very small idols, about an inch or two in length, made of clay and having a flat surface at the back. They are stuck in rows, on a piece of board painted with some bright colour, and are then gilded and placed in the temple.

In the remotest alley, the most secluded corner, the broadest highway, or the most open of public spaces, roam the most disreputable and degraded members of the canine family—the pariah dogs. Black, brown, white, and spotted dogs with skeleton frames and sunken eyes, many of them in the last stages of disease and decay, snap at the dirtiest bone, or feast upon the filthiest rubbish they can find. They own no master, and no man owns them. They may be counted till one is weary of counting, and yet the eye will still discover many that remain unnumbered. Often it would be a kindness to the poor starved and crippled creatures to put them speedily out of pain, but the Buddhist law, "Thou shalt not kill", is all powerful here, and so the pariahs breed and multiply, giving in return for the permission to live, their effective services as vigilant and industrious scavengers.

In the markets, the natives squat cross-legged upon their stalls, offering for sale vegetables and fruit, betel nut and cigars, salted fish and queer-looking sweetmeats; or busying themselves, in the absence of customers, by vigorously waving a big palm or banana leaf to drive away the clouds of flies that would otherwise immediately settle upon their perishable wares. The dealers are chiefly Siamese women, and are amongst the most polite and obliging saleswomen in the world.

The original city of Bangkok is surrounded by a high thick wall pierced with many gates that are never closed. The principal entrance is the one known as "The Three-Headed Gate", so called on account of the three tapering spires that surmount the three openings. By far the larger portion of the population lives outside the wall, but as the Royal Palace and nearly all the Government buildings are within its circumference, it encloses everything that is of importance to the native as far as government is concerned. The roads in the city are excellent, and in the neighbourhood of the palace itself there are a number of wide open green spaces that would not discredit any city of Europe. The palace is enclosed by several rows of departmental offices, outside of which is a high white wall.

Day closes with a rapidity equal to that with which it dawns, there being no long spell of twilight either in the morning or the evening. In the principal streets, the electric light has displaced the small old oil lamps that at one time formed the only evening illumination known to the people, but on the outskirts of the city the lamplighter still wends his evening round, carrying the small ladder, boxes of matches, and bottles of oil, that mark the nature of his occupation. The oil lamps are placed at more or less irregular intervals, and are soon blown out by any wind of moderate strength. Little cholera lamps swung aloft at the ends of long slender poles, sway backwards and forwards, telling where the grim fiend has entered in his work of destruction. The Chinese light their smoky tallow candles and place them in large quaint lanterns bearing mystic signs and symbols; while round the city wall itself, the cocoa-nut oil lamps burn with a lurid glare, sending forth at the same time dense clouds of yellow pungent smoke.