Mr. Somebody has lavished adoring words over my sisters.
Arigato! Thank heavens!
If he didn’t declare, however, that “no sensible musume will prefer a foreign raiment to her kimono!”
He failed to make of me a completely happy nightingale.
Shall I meet the Americans in our flapping gown?
I imagined myself hitting off a tune of “Karan Coron” with clogs, in circumspect steps, along Fifth Avenue of somewhere. The throng swarmed around me. They tugged my silken sleeves, which almost swept the ground, and inquired, “How much a yard?” Then they implored me to sing some Japanese ditty.
I’ll not play any sensational rôle for any price.
Let me remain a homely lass, though I express no craft in Meriken dress.
Do I look shocking in a corset?
“In Pekin you have to speak Makey Hey Rah” is my belief.