31st—To-morrow!
The Heights, Feb. 1st
Let me recline heart-to-heart on the breast of Mother Nature! Let me retreat to a hillside not far from the city, yet verily near to God! Let me go to my poet abode!
We abandoned the Fruitvale car at the hill-foot.
My uncle picked out our destination from the speckles in the distance.
The breeze (how heavenly is a country breeze!) enticed my soul—a Jap girl also is provided with some soul—into “Far-Beyond.”
“I feel myself another girl, Uncle.”
“How?”
“I’m a poet already. The poet without poem is greater, don’t you know?”
We climbed the hill slowly. Every step enlarged the spectacle.