e the bridge and the Escolta meet. The Metropolitan policeman--one
of the tall _Americanos_ uniformed in khaki riding-breeches and stiff
leggings--who, in former days, controlled the traffic of the street,
is now supplanted by a Filipino comic-opera policeman. Very few of
the old "Mets" are left. It was a body of picked men, the finest
soldiers in the volunteer troops, and the most efficient police
force in the world. This officer on the Escolta used to be a genius
in his line. When balky Filipino ponies blocked the traffic in the
crowded thoroughfare, it was this officer that straightened out the
tangle. If the tram-car happened to run off the track, it was the
"Met" who showed the driver how to put it on again.

The river above the bridge is lined with latticed balconies; but from
the veranda of the Paris Restaurant, when that establishment was in
its glory, one could sit for hours and watch the bustling river life
below. The thatched tops of the huddled _cascos_ formed a compact roof
that extended half across the stream. Upon these nondescript craft
hundreds of Filipinos dwelt, doing their washing and their cooking
on the decks. The scanty clothes are hanging out to dry on lines,
while naked brats are splashing in the dirty water, clinging to the
tightened hawser.

Launches go scudding under the low bridge, rending the air with
vicious toots. Unwieldly _cascos_ are poled down the river, laden
heavily with cocoanuts and hemp. Small floating islands whirl along
in the swift current, and are carried out to sea. At the _Muelle
del Rey_--the "King's Dock"--lie the inter-island steamers, and the
gangs of laborers are busy loading and unloading them. Carabao drays
are hauling fragrant cargoes of tobacco and Manila hemp, while over
the gangplank runs a chain of men, gutting the warehouse of its
merchandise. The captain of the _Romulus_ stands on the bridge,
daintily smoking a cigarette, and supervising the disposal of the
demijohns of _tinto_ wine. The derrick keeps up an incessant racket
as the hold is gradually filled. Although the _Romulus_ is advertised
to sail to-day at noon, she is as liable to sail at ten o'clock, or
possibly to-morrow afternoon; and although bound for Iloilo or Cebu,
you can not be at all sure what her destination really is. She may
return after a month from a long rambling cruise among the southern
isles. The Spanish mariners, in rakish Tam o'Shanter caps, lounge
at the entrance to the warehouse,