Oh! read Zola’s “L’Argent”—you will appreciate it. There are delicious financial characters in it. For goodness’ sake, don’t read a translation.
TO SENTARŌ NISHIDA
Kumamoto, 1891.
Dear Friend Nishida,—Your very welcome letter came to-day. I was beginning to be anxious about you, as my cook, who arrived here only yesterday, said that it was extremely cold in Matsue; and I was afraid the bitter weather might have given you cold. I am very glad you are taking care of yourself....
I am now a little more reconciled to Kumamoto; but it is the most uninteresting city I was ever in, in Japan. The famous shrines of Katō Kiyomasa (the Katō-sha and the Hommyōji) are worth visiting; they are at Akitagun, a little outside the town. The city is packed with soldiers. Things are dear and ugly here—except silks. This is quite a place for pretty silks, and they are cheaper than in Matsue: but there is nothing pretty in the shape of lacquer-ware, porcelain, or bronze. There is no art, and there are no kakemonos, and no curio-shops.
The weather here is queer—something like that of the Pacific slope, a few hundred miles north of San Francisco. The nights and the mornings are cold; and at sunrise, you see the ground covered with white frost, and mists all over the hills. But by noon it gets warm, and in the afternoon even hot; then after sundown it turns cold again.
Mr. Kano was too modest when he told me there were other teachers who spoke English better than he. There are not. He speaks and writes better English than any Japanese I know. However, there is a Mr. Sakuma here, from Kyōto, who has a very uncommon knowledge of literary English: he has read a great deal, has a good library, and has made a special study of Old English and Middle English. He teaches literature (English) and grammar, etc. Mr. Ōzawa (I think) is the second English teacher: I like him the best personally. He has that fine consideration for others which you have,—and which is not a common quality of men anywhere. He speaks French. The Head-master, Mr. Sakurai, a young and very silent man, also speaks French. Nearly all the teachers speak English,—except the delightful old teacher of Chinese, who has a great beard and a head like Socrates. I liked him at once,—just as I liked Mr. Katayama at first sight. I wonder if there is anything in the learning of Chinese which makes men amiable. Perhaps it is the constant need of patience and the æsthetic sentiment also involved by such studies, that changes or modifies character so agreeably. I don’t know much, however, about the teachers yet. I say good-morning and good-evening, and sit in my corner, and smoke my pipe. So far they all seem very gentle and courteous. I think I shall be able to get along pleasantly with them; but I don’t think I shall become as friendly with any of them as I was with you. Indeed there is nobody like you here—no chats in the ten minutes,—no curious information,—no projects and discoveries. I often look at your pretty little tea-tray, with the semi and the dragonflies upon it,—and wish I could hear your voice at the door....
Lafcadio Hearn.
I have become very strong, and weigh about 20 lbs. more than I did last summer. But I can’t tell just why. Perhaps because I am eating three full meals a day instead of two. My house is not quite so large as the one I had in Matsue. We are five here now—myself and wife, the cook, the kurumaya, and O-Yone. It was very funny about O-Yone when she first came. Nobody could understand her Izumo dialect (she is from Imaichi); but both she and the kurumaya can now get along. The hotels here are outrageously expensive: at least some of them. I cannot recommend the Shirakuin for cheapness. I paid, including tea-money, 24 yen for 6-1/2 days. No more of that!