"In Japan, sir, newspaper two editors one time. Number one editor he write War Minister bad man. Policeman he come say: 'Be so kind cease publish hon'ble paper; hon'ble publisher, hon'ble printer, hon'ble editor be so kind enter hon'ble prison'. Number two editor he go prison, number one editor he stay home."
"I suppose they pay number two well for that," remarked Bob laughing.
"No, sir; my uncle very poor man. His wages four yen a month; but no spend much, in prison every time."
"Poor fellow! He earns his four yen."
The little waiter's countenance took on a lugubrious expression.
"He prison editor not now no longer," he said. "Everything change in Nippon. These days number one editor go prison, number two he out of work. My poor uncle sell Ninkin Shimbun Shimbashi railway-station."
At this moment the hall-porter entered, and bowed to Bob with a deep Japanese obeisance.
"Japanese gentleman, sir, beg you be so kind give him interview."
"Oh! who is it?" said Bob, thinking that it must be the bearer of the expected summons from the minister.
"Japanese gentleman, sir; say you not know his name. But he very great man, he very noble Samurai." Then, looking with an air of imparting important information, he added: "His name, sir, Rokuro Kobo San."