The Meriken beggar my friend saw at Yokohama park was dressed up in a swallow-tail coat. Emerson’s essays were in his hand. He was such a genteel Mr. Beggar, she said.
I often heard that everybody is a millionaire in America. I thought it likely that I should see a swell Mr. Beggar among the Americans.
How many a time had I planned to make a special trip to Yokohama for acquaintance with the honourable Emerson scholar!
Alas, it was merely a fancy!
I have seen Mr. Beggar on the street.
He didn’t appear in the formal dignity of a dress coat.
Where was his Emerson?
He was not unlike his Oriental brothers, after all.
He stood, because he wasn’t used to kneeling like the Japs.
The only difference was that he carried pencils instead of a musical instrument.