“Oji San, let us go to the park for snow-viewing! I advise you to till a bit more poetry in yourself, Uncle,” I announced.
I began to change my dress before his decision.
15th—We went to the famous Brooklyn Bridge.
Verily, New York gentlemen are interested with their papers in the car. Newspapers, O newspapers! There’s no slip of a doubt that they would die without the sight of their newspapers. The unheroic part about them is that they forget neatly to offer their seats to a lady. Woman loves an absent-minded man once in a while, but never on the car, I do say.
I suppose every woman of this city has to be rich.
Must I equip a carriage?
I do not see why I could not win the first prize with my Louisiana ticket.
How I wish to fabric an every-inch-a-Japanese mansion on Fifth Avenue, and welcome a thousand tojins to hear my Jap song on Sunday!
“Is this bridge built for Americans or Europeans, Uncle? People crossing here use no English,” I said.
“Liberty Statue!”