This morning I could have done a song and dance when I heard that he
had been operated on and was to be sent home.

Almost every day we are having grand military funerals, and they are
most impressive I can tell you. Yesterday twenty-two officers were
buried at the same time, and the school stood on the street for over
an hour to do them honor. The procession was very interesting, with
the Buddhist priests, in their gorgeous robes, and the mourners in
white or light blue. First came the square box with the cremated
remains, then the officer's horse, then coolies carrying small trees
which were to be planted on the grave. Next came a large picture of
the deceased, and perhaps his coat or sword, next the shaven priests
in magnificent raiment and last the mourners carrying small trays with
rice cakes, to be placed upon the grave. The wives and mothers and
daughters rode in jinrikishas, hand folded meekly in hand, and eyes
downcast. Such calm resigned faces I have never seen, many white and
wasted with sorrow, but under absolute control. Of the entire number
only one gave vent to her grief; a bent old woman with thin grey hair
cut close to her head, rode with both hands over her face. She had
lost two sons in one battle, and the cry of her human heart was
stronger than any precept of her religion.



HIROSHIMA, December, 1904.


You remember the Irishman's saying that we could be pretty comfortable
in life if it wasn't for our pleasures? Well I could get along rather
well in Japan were it not for the Merry Christmases. Such a terrible