Modern gyurls born in the enlightened period of Meiji are endowed with quite a remarkable soul.
I act as I choose. I haven’t to wait for my mamma’s approval to laugh when I incline to.
Oct. 1st—I stole into the looking-glass—woman loses almost her delight in life if without it—for the last glimpse of my hair in Japan style.
Butterfly mode!
I’ll miss it adorning my small head, while I’m away from home.
I have often thought that Japanese display Oriental rhetoric—only oppressive rhetoric that palsies the spirit—in hair dressing. Its beauty isn’t animation.
I longed for another new attraction on my head.
I felt sad, however, when I cut off all the paper cords from my hair.
I dreaded that the American method of dressing the hair might change my head into an absurd little thing.
My lengthy hair languished over my shoulders.