I closed the store.
I pasted up a piece of paper whereon was written: “NO BUSINESS TO-NIGHT.”
16th—I had a stomach-ache this morning. I couldn’t rise.
The maid fetched me some toast and a cup of coffee.
I think it is very nice to eat in bed.
17th—Mrs. Wistaria and her husband returned from San Jose.
She lavished on me her thousand arigatos.
She said I sold sixty per cent more than on any previous week.
She wished me to condescend to accept a “meagre” fifteen dollars as a share of the profits.
I refused it.