tended--for of
course Jack is not yet able to leave his room.

Beyond the power of any man is the prophecy of what may happen to
official-ridden Peking. The air is surcharged with mutterings.
The brutally oppressed people may turn at last, rise, and, in their
fury, rend to bits all flesh their skeleton fingers grasp.

The Legations grouped around the hotel are triply guarded. The
shift, shift, shift of soldiers' feet as they march the streets
rubs my nerves like sandpaper.

Rest and sleep are impossible. We seem constantly on the edge of a
precipice, over which, were we to go, the fate awaiting us would
reduce the tortures of Hades to pin-pricks. The Revolutionists
have the railroads, the bandits the rivers. Yet, if I don't reach
Japan in twelve days now, I will be too late. Poor Sada San!

Please say to your small son David that his request to send him an
Emperor's crown to wear when he plays king, is not difficult to
grant. At the present writing crowns in the Orient are not
fashionable. As I look out of my window, the salmon-pink walls of
the Forbidden City rise in the dusty distance. Under the flaming
yellow roof of the Palace is a frail and frightened little
six-year-old boy--the ruler of millions--who, if he knew and could,
would gladly exchange his priceless crown for freedom and a bag of
marbles.

Good night.

PEKING, Next day.

It is Sunday afternoon and pouring rain. Outside it is so drearily
mournful, I keep my back turned. At least, the dripping wet will
secure me a quiet hour or so.

My Chinese room-boy reasons that only a sure-enough somebody would
have so many callers and attend so many functions--not knowing that
it is only because Jack's wife will never lack where he has
friends. Hence the boy haunts my door ready to serve and reap his
reward. But I am sure it was only kindness that prompted him on
this dreary day to set the fire in the grate to blazing and arrange
the tea-table, the steaming kettle close by, and turn on all the
lights. How cozy it is! How homelike!

Jack grows stronger each day, and crosser, which is a good sign.
At last I have told him of Sada San's plight; and he is for
starting for Kioto to-morrow to "wipe the floor with Uncle Mura,"
as he elegantly expresses it. But of course he 's still too weak
to even think of such a journey.

He makes me join in the gaieties that still go on despite the
turmoil and unrest. I must tell you of one dinner whic