aughty girl! Quick you make the fire to rise in _hibachi_ and
give that Merrit San his _gohan_--same thing what that funny 'Merica
call breakfast."

After the steam had begun to rise from the vessels on several
_hibachi_, Yuki San, flushed by her exertions, rested upon her heels
before the door that led into the garden. As she fanned her flushed
face with her sleeve, she glanced again and again toward the narrow
stairway that led to the chamber above, and at the slightest sound she
listened in smiling expectancy.

From outside the wall came the gentle slip-slap of the water against
the _sampan_, and the cheerful banter of the owners as they made ready
for the work of the day.

Circling the garden, the fern-like maples made a note of vivid crimson
amid the feathery green of the bamboo. Every feature of the place was
closely associated with her short happy life. She had learned to walk
on the soft sandy paths, she had spelled out her first characters on
the old stone-lantern. She had whispered her secrets to the
broken-nosed image of Kwannon, who sat in the shadow of the pines, and
there under the plum-tree she had caught the naughty kitten that first
brought her and Merrit San together.

As she sat, with folded hands, and watched the sunshine on the dewy
leaves and flowers, her intense, restless, vivacious body relaxed in
sudden languor and her soft mouth drooped in wistfulness.

A splash in the pool below attracted her, and looking down she saw the
gleaming bodies of the goldfish as they leaped into the air. Instantly
she was all life and volubility.

"Yuki San one big bad girl; she no remember li'l fish. They always
like hungry baby San in early morning. I make fast to fill big hole
inside--ve'y li'l outside."

Slipping her half-stockinged feet out of her straw house-shoes, she
stepped into her wooden _geta,_ and passing a shelf, filled her hands
with round rice-cakes.

The edge of the water turned to gold as the fish crowded close. Yuki
San scattered the crumbs and stood watching the wriggling mass for a
moment, then said:

"You ve'y greedy li'l fish. I never no can fill your bodies. Now I get
flower for Merrit San's breakfast."

She made her way over the flat mossy stones, passed the miniature Fuji
where dwelt the spirit of the wondrous "Lady who made the flowers to
bloom." She paused before the gorgeous chrysanthemums and looked long
at the morning-glories, with their tender tints of dawn. But at last