He tells me, too, of an English woman who has joined the insect
expedition. Says she is the most brilliant woman he ever met.
Thanks awfully. And he has to sit up nights studying, to keep up
with her. I dare say.

I 'll wager she 's high of color and mighty of muscle and with
equal vehemence says a thing is "strawdn'ry" whether it 's a
dewdrop or a spouting volcano.

I can't help feeling a little bit envious of her--out there with my
Jack! Well! I will not get agitated till I have to.

A note from Sada says Uncle has had another outburst. He still
consents for her to come down here. Her beautiful ideals have been
smashed to smithereens, and the fact that nothing has ever been
invented that will stick them together, adds no comfort to the
situation. Her disappointment is heart-breaking. I cannot make a
move till I get her to myself and have a life-and-death talk with
her. I am playing for time.

I wrote her a cheerfully foolish letter. Told her I was making all
kinds of plans for her visit. I also looked up some doubtful
dates--at least, my textbook on color prints said they were
doubtful--and referred them to Uncle for confirmation, asking that
he give instructions to Sada about a certain dealer in Hiroshima
who has some pictures so violent, positively I would not hang them
in the cow-shed. That is, if I cared for Suky. But it is anything
for conversation now.

I almost forgot to tell you that we have the same _chef_ as when I
was kindergarten teacher here in the school years ago. He 's
prosperous as a pawnbroker. He gave me a radiant greeting. "How
are you, _Tanaka_?" quoth I. "All same like damn monkey,
_Sensei_," he replied. But he is unfailingly cheerful and the
cleverest grafter in the universe, with an artistic temperament
highly developed; he sometimes sends in the unchewable roast
smothered in cherry blossoms.

How wise you were, Mate, to choose home and husband instead of a
career. I love you for it.

HIROSHIMA, October, 1911.

For springing surprises, all full of kindness and delicate
courtesies, Japanese girls would be difficult to equal. Before a
whisper of it reached me, they made arrangements the other day for
a re-union of all my graduates of the kindergarten normal class.
It is hard to imagine when they found the time for the elaborate
decorations they put up in the big kindergarten room, and the
hundred and one little things they had done to show their love and