Mr. Harding laughed.
Nan grew confused. "Oh, please don't think I mean that I don't appreciate it, for I do, very much. It is because I want so dreadfully much to keep it that I was afraid I shouldn't."
"Then please don't have any more compunctions."
"I won't, and I thank you so much. I consider it one of my very greatest and most valuable gifts."
"You will see so many more rare and beautiful things while you are here that you will soon learn how insignificant this little souvenir is. Isn't this a gay and happy crowd? Like a flock of bright butterflies, isn't it? They all wear their very best on such a day."
"The children particularly. What gorgeous kimonos and obis some of them have, and how they do love flowers."
They wandered on, sometimes coming up to the rest of their party, sometimes falling behind, and at last all returned to the boat for another slow journey on the river, and at last to return to the hotel well pleased with this first of their picnics in Japan.
The next day gave promise of rainy weather, and so they hurried to the Uyeno Park to see the trees there, which were already shedding their blossoms. These trees, it must be said, were more impressive in size and showed, against a background of evergreen trees, to better advantage than had those on the cherry avenue along the banks of the river. They contrasted well, too, with the surroundings.
"And here," said Mr. Montell, "is where we hang verses on the trees, I hope you all have yours ready."
There was a scramble for paper and pencils, and each one set about the task of writing rhymes in order to follow out the pretty custom. Presently Nan jumped up and waved her paper. "My ode is completed," she cried.