roses and the tea-plants are gorgeous. I don't wonder that the climate
gets mixed, out here. Everything else is hind part before.

What do you suppose I've been longing for all day? A good saddle
horse? I feel that a brisk canter would set me straight in a short
time. But the only horse in Hiroshima is a mule. A knock-kneed,
cross-eyed old mule that bitterly resents the insult of being hitched
to something that is a cross between a wheelbarrow and a baby
buggy. The driver stands up for the excellent reason that he has no
place to sit down! We tried this coupe once for the fun and
experience. We got the experience all right but I am not so sure about
the fun. We jolted along through the narrow streets scraping first
against one house, then against another, while our footman, oh yes we
had a footman, ran beside the thoroughbred to help him up when he
stumbled.

To-morrow we are to have company. A Salvation Army lassie comes down
from Tokio with a brass band. It is the second time in the history of
the town that the people have had a chance to hear a brass band, and
they are greatly thrilled. I must say I am a bit excited myself; Miss
Lessing says she is going to keep me in sight, for fear I will follow
the drum away. She needn't worry. I am through following anything in
this world but my own nose.



HIROSHIMA, March 25, 1902.


I am absolutely walking on air today! Just when I thought my