I want to forget all that I learned about the world in the past seven
years. I want to begin life again as a girl with a few illusions,
even if they are borrowed ones. I know too much for my years and I'm
determined to forget.

The home letters were heavenly. I've read them limber. I'll answer
the rest to-morrow.



HIROSHIMA. Sept. 2nd, 1901.


At last after my wanderings I am settled for the winter. The school is
a big structure, open and airy, and I have a nice room facing the east
where you dear ones are. On two sides tower the mountains, and between
them lies the magical Inland Sea. This is a great naval and military
station, and while I write I can hear the bugle calls from the parade
grounds.

I have a pretty little maid to wait on me and I wish you could see us
talking to each other. She comes in, bows until her head touches the
floor and hopes that my honorable ears and eyes and teeth are well. I
tell her in plain English that I am feeling bully, then we both
laugh. She is delighted with all my things, and touches them softly
saying over and over: "It's mine to care for!"

There are between four and five hundred girls in the school and, until
I get more familiar with the language, I am to work with the older
girls who understand some English. You would smile to see their