repes and the kimono you asked for. Write
for something else. I want an excuse to spend another afternoon in
the two-by-four shop, with a play-garden attached, that should be
under a glass case in a jewelry store. The proprietor gives me a
tea-party and tells me a few of his troubles every time I go to his
store. Formerly he kept two shops exclusively for hair ornaments
and ribbons.

He did a thriving trade with schoolgirls. Recently an order went
out from the mighty maker of school laws to the effect that
lassies, high and low, must not indulge in such foolish
extravagances as head ornaments. The ribbon market went to smash.
The old man could not give his stock away. He stored his goods and
went to selling high-priced crepes, which everybody was permitted
to wear. Make another request quickly. I would rather shop than
think.

Also, if you need any information as to how to run a
cooking-school, I will enclose it with the next package.

Since the war, scores of Japanese women are wild to learn foreign
cooking. On inquiry as to the reason of such enthusiasm, we found
it was because their husbands, while away from home, had acquired a
taste for Occidental dainties. Now their wives want to know all
about them so they can set up opposition in their homes to the many
tea-houses which offer European food as an extra attraction. And
depend upon it, if the women start to learn, they stick to it till
there is nothing more to know on the subject.

I was to furnish the knowledge and the ladies the necessary
utensils, but I guess I forgot to mention everything we might need.

The first thing we tried was biscuit. All went well until the time
came for baking. I asked for a pan. A pan? What kind of a pan?
Would a wash pan do? No, if it was all the same I would rather
have a flat pan with a rim. Certainly! Here it was with a rim and
a handle! A shiny dust-pan greeted my eyes. Well, there was not
very much difference in the taste of the biscuit.

The prize accomplishment so far has been pies. Our skill has not
only brought us fame, but the city is in the throes of a pie
epidemic. A few days ago when the old Prince of the Ken came to
visit his Hiroshima home, the cooking-ladies, after a few days'
consultation, decided that in no better way could royalty be
welcomed than by sending him a lemon pie. They sent two creamy
affairs elaborately decorated with meringued Fujis. They were the
hit of the season. T