y deserves a
merry-go-round sort of a holiday, he does. Think of sewing on
saddles and bridles all these years, when his heart was withering
for beauty!

I am glad of your eager interest in Sada. How like you! Never too
absorbed in your own life to share other people's joys and sorrows
and festivities.

If your wise head evolves a plan of action, send by wireless, for
if I read aright her message received to-day, the time is fast
coming when the red lights of danger will be flashing. I will
quote: "Last night Uncle asked me to sing to some people who were
giving a dinner at the tea-house. I put on my loveliest kimono and
a hair-dresser did my hair in the old Japanese style and stuck a
red rose at the side. For the first time I went into that
beautiful, _beautiful_ place my Uncle calls "the Flower Blooming"
tea-house. It was more like a fairy palace. How the girls, who
live there, laughed at my guitar. They had never seen one before.
How they whispered over the color of my eyes. Said they matched my
kimono, and they tittered over my clumsiness in sitting on the
floor. But I forgot everything when the door slid open and I
looked into the most wonderful dream-garden that ever was, and
people everywhere. I finished singing, there was clapping and loud
_banzais_. I looked up and realized there were only men at this
dinner and I never saw so many bottles in all my life. I felt very
strange and so far away from dear Susan West. After I had sung
once more I started back to my home. Uncle met me. I told him I
was going to bed. For the first time he was cross and ordered me
back to the play place, where I was to stay until he came for me.
There never was anything so lovely as the green and pink garden and
the lily-shaped lights, and the flowers; and such _pretty_ girls
who knew just what to do. But I cannot understand the men who come
here. When dear old Billy"--thank heaven she says _dear_
Billy!--"talks I know just what he means. But these men use so
many words Susan never taught me, and laugh so loud when they say
them.

"There was one man named Hara whose clothes were simply gorgeous.
The girls say he is very rich, and a great friend of Uncle's! He
may have money, but he is not over-burdened with manners. He can
out-stare an owl."

There was more. But that is enough to show me Uncle's hand as
plainly as if I were a palmist. If nothing happens to prevent, the
man promises to do what thousands o