nd dig, till
there is not an ounce of strength left for worry. I stay in the
kindergarten every available minute. The unstinted friendship of
the kiddies over there, is the heart's-ease for so many of life's
hurts.

There are always the long walks, when healing and uplift of spirit
can be found in the beauty of the country. I tramp away all alone.
The little Swede begs often to go. At first I rather enjoyed him.
But he is growing far too affectionate. I am not equal to caring
for two young things; a broken-hearted girl and a homesick fat boy
are too much for me. He is improving so rapidly I think it better
for him to talk love stories and poetry to some one more
appreciative. I am not in a very poetical mood. He might just as
well talk to the pretty young teacher as to talk about her all the
time.

I have scores of friends up and down the many country roads I
travel. The boatmen on the silvery river, who always wave their
head rags in salute, the women hoeing in the fields with babies on
their backs, stop long enough to say good day and good luck. The
laughing red-cheeked coolie girls pause in their work of driving
piles for the new bridge to have a little talk about the wonders of
a foreigner's head. With bated breath they watch while I give them
proof that my long hatpins do not go straight through my skull.

The sunny greetings of multitudes of children lift the shadows from
the darkest day, and always there is the glorious scenery; the
shadowed mystery of the mountains, a turquoise sky, the blossoms
and bamboo. The brooding spirit of serenity soon envelops me, and
in its irresistible charm is found a tender peace.

On my way home, in the river close to shore, is a crazy little
tea-house. It is furnished with three mats and a paper lantern.
The pretty hostess, fresh and sweet from her out-of-door life,
brings me rice, tea and fresh eel. She serves it with such
gracious hospitality it makes my heart warm. While I eat, she
tells me stories of the river life. I am learning about the social
life of families of fish and their numerous relatives that sport in
the "Thing of Substance River"; the habits of the red-headed wild
ducks which nest near; of the god and goddesses who rule the river
life, the pranks they play, the revenge they take. And, too, I am
learning a lesson in patience through the lives of the humble
fishermen. In season seven cents a day is the total of their
earnings. At other tim