she spied on a rose-bush, set apart from the rest, a single white rose
with a heart of red.

With a little cry of satisfaction, she thrust her hands among the
thorns to pluck it. The rebound of the bush sent fluttering to her
feet a brilliant purple butterfly. Tender to all living things, Yuki
San dropped quickly to her knees and folded the half-chilled creature
between the palms of her warm hands.

"Ah, Cho Cho San," she said, "the day of yesterday you so big and
strong. The morning of to-day you have the weakness of cold body. That
Jack Floss him ve'y naughty boy!"

She put her moist red lips to her folded palms and the warmth of her
breath stirred to action the gauzy creature she held captive.

"You no must kick, Cho Cho San! Have the patience. I make you warm, I
give you one more day of happy."

Yuki San's wooden shoes sent a sharp click into the quiet morning air
as she quickly crossed the arched bridge and followed the path to the
stone image beyond the pool. With a touch as soft as the wings she
held, the girl lightly balanced the now thoroughly warmed butterfly on
the broad forehead of the Goddess of Mercy.

In sharp contrast to the spirit of the scene came the clear,
rollicking strains of an American air, whistled by some one coming
down the steps.

For a moment Yuki San stood motionless, pressing her lips softly to
the rose she held. Then, with a swift pitter-patter, she ran back to
the house.

"The top of the morning to the honorable Miss Snow," said Merrit, who
quite filled the doorway.

Not willing to be surpassed in salutation, Yuki San laid a hand on
each knee, and bending her back at right angles, replied with mock
gravity:

"Ohayo Gozaimasu-Kyo wa yoi O tenki."

Merrit knew she had him at a disadvantage in her own language, but,
always delighted to see the play of her dimples and the soft pink
creep into her cheeks when he teased, he stood by her now, big and
stern, and growling.

"See here, Yuki San, otherwise Miss Snow, you just come off your high
stilts of that impossible lingo, and speak nice English suitable for a
little boy like me to understand."

"Li'l boy like you!" she rippled, "li'l boy like you! Merrit San him
so long when he make Japanese bow he come down from top like big
bamboo-tree--so!" Putting her hands high above her head, she bent till
the tips of her fingers touched the floor. Still bent, she twisted her
head till her eyes, bright with laughter, looked straight int