blanket had been on the floor for one minute, and fleas rendered
sleep impossible. The night was very long. The andon went out,
leaving a strong smell of rancid oil. The primitive Japanese dog--
a cream-coloured wolfish-looking animal, the size of a collie, very
noisy and aggressive, but as cowardly as bullies usually are--was
in great force in Fujihara, and the barking, growling, and
quarrelling of these useless curs continued at intervals until
daylight; and when they were not quarrelling, they were howling.
Torrents of rain fell, obliging me to move my bed from place to
place to get out of the drip. At five Ito came and entreated me to
leave, whimpering, "I've had no sleep; there are thousands and
thousands of fleas!" He has travelled by another route to the
Tsugaru Strait through the interior, and says that he would not
have believed that there was such a place in Japan, and that people
in Yokohama will not believe it when he tells them of it and of the
costume of the women. He is "ashamed for a foreigner to see such a
place," he says. His cleverness in travelling and his singular
intelligence surprise me daily. He is very anxious to speak GOOD
English, as distinguished from "common" English, and to get new
words, with their correct pronunciation and spelling. Each day he
puts down in his note-book all the words that I use that he does
not quite understand, and in the evening brings them to me and puts
down their meaning and spelling with their Japanese equivalents.
He speaks English already far better than many professional
interpreters, but would be more pleasing if he had not picked up
some American vulgarisms and free-and-easy ways. It is so
important to me to have a good interpreter, or I should not have
engaged so young and inexperienced a servant; but he is so clever
that he is now able to be cook, laundryman, and general attendant,
as well as courier and interpreter, and I think it is far easier