he frame retain the heat.
The modus operandi of keeping warm is to insert the body beneath this
frame, wrapping the covering about the shoulders, snugly, to prevent the
escape of the warm air within. The advantage of this unique arrangement
is that the head can be kept cool, while, if desirable, the body can be
subjected to a regular hot-air bath.

The following day is chilly and raw, with occasional skits of snow.
People are humped up and blue-nosed, and seemingly miserable. Yet,
withal, they seem to be only humorously miserable, and not by any means
seriously displeased with the rawness and the snow. Straw wind-breaks are
set up on the windward side of the tea-houses, and there is much stopping
among pedestrians to gather around the tea-house braziers and gossip and
smoke.

Everybody in Japan smokes, both men and women. The universal pipe of the
country is a small brass tube about six inches long, with the end turned
up and widened to form the bowl. This bowl holds the merest pinch of
tobacco; a couple of whiffs, a smart rap on the edge of the brazier to
knock out the residue, and the pipe is filled again and again, until the
smoker feels satisfied. The girls that wait on one at the yadoyas and
tea-houses carry their tobacco in the capacious sleeve-pockets of their
dress, and their pipes sometimes thrust in the sash or girdle, and
sometimes stuck in the back of the hair.

Many of the Buddhas presiding over the cross-roads and village entrances
along my route to-day are provided with calico bibs, the object of which
it is impossible for me to determine, owing to my ignorance of the
vernacular. The bibs are, no doubt, significant of some particular season
of religious observance.

The important city of Okoyama provides abundant food for observation--the
clean, smooth streets, the wealth of European goods in the shops, and the
swarms of ever-interesting people, as I wheel leisurely through it on
Saturday, December 4th. No human being save Japs has so far crossed my
path since leaving Nagasaki, nor am I expecting to meet anybody here. An
agreeable surprise, however, awaits me, for at the corner of one of the
principal business thoroughfares a couple of American missionaries appear
upon the scene. Introducing themselves as Mr. Carey and Mr. Kowland, they
inform me that three families of missionaries reside together here, and
extend a cordial invitation to remain over Sunday. I am very glad indeed
to accept their hospit