“Things all wrong in Nippon, Uncle!”
“I am sorry you were born a Jap.”
“I’ll never go back to Japan, I think. The dictionary for Jap girls comprises no such word as ‘No.’ But you must remember, Uncle, I have the capital ‘No’ in my head. I am a revolutionist,” I proclaimed.
Then I thought much of my dear Oscar.
24th—My worthy labourer upon Gibbon’s work sat before the table for some hours.
I stood behind him and dropped the fluid from a bottle on his head.
“Cold! What are you doing, my little romp?” He looked up in a fright.
“No harm, Uncle! It is only a remedy. Your hair is growing so thin. Do you know it? I think it a shame to appear in Greater New York with a bald gentleman.”
I bought the bottle this morning.
25th—A bamboo table in my room reminded me of a take bush in the neighbouring churchyard of my Tokio home.