Next morning the old man told his son Islao to take a walk with Busyong around the town. In this exploration, for such did it appear rather than just a mere promenade to Busyong, who was a stranger to the planet, Islao led his friend directly to his large farm of rice. Then they went to the busiest part of the large town, where Busyong was delighted to observe the different kinds of stores—dry goods and hardware. When they came to a very lively street, Busyong found occasion to laugh in his characteristic sarcastic manner at the tremendous numbers of different kinds of signboards, some hanging flat against the doors of the stores, and some sticking out a long distance or even stretching across the entire width of the street. The size of the signboards ranged from the smallest of those which professional men use to the very large ones with which the managers of theaters announce a dramatic performance.
While the two friends were walking slowly along the street, for there were many people out, their attention was very curiously attracted by the appearance of a scrawny young man, who came mincing by them. They stopped beside a telegraph post, while the young man went on, meeting a friend at a short distance, to whom he said, "Hallo, Tetoy (Aniceto). Donde vamus you?" "Hallo, Balatong," replied the friend. The rest of their conversation went on in a low tone in their peculiar dialect. Busyong and Islao overheard only their slipshod greetings.
"Islao, who is that man—that one who wears the hat with a wide ribbon whose colors are light blue and green, and black with white stripes resembling the skin of a skunk?" inquired Busyong.
"What man? Excuse me, I was looking at somebody else," said Islao. "Do you mean that one who wears a bright red, yellow, and green——"
"Crumpled small fish net around his collar I should say; yes, exactly, that one. Who's he?"
"Ha, ha, ha; oh, yes. He is one of the suitors of the girl who lives in front of our house. Balatong, I think is his name."
"Aha, the one who cackled last night, as your father said?"
"I don't know," laughing.
"And that other one with cross eyes, whose trousers are folded up five times, I think, showing his stockings, which are like the tidies of a chair back—who's he?"
"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."