We were to roll it around three times more, and then drink again; three times more, and a third drink, leaving this time but a little, which, without being rolled around again, was to be drunk at a swallow--three drinks and one swallow to the bowl. O-kin-san says that this last swallow should be only the foam, which must be drunk to show that the tea is so good that the guest must have even the foam; and that not until then does the noise of appreciation come, and then only because the foam cannot be drunk without noise. It was well. We exchanged autographs and cards. With the kind permission of the Little Maid's aunt we took pictures of the interior, and then with much bowing and many "sayonaras" we passed out under the cherry trees. "We say 'Good-morning,'" said the Little Maid, explaining the courtesies of Japanese greeting and good-by, "and we bow; and we say 'It is a long while since I have seen you,' or 'It is a fine day,' and we bow again. At the end of each sentence you must bow, and it is the same when you say good-by." * * * * * Before I learned that the Mikado had sent a general edict through the land that all foreigners in Japan were to be treated with particular consideration while this war is going on--thus making it safer for the tourist now in this country than it ever has been or will be, perhaps, for a long time--I had been greatly impressed by the absence of all signs of disorder, street quarrels, loud talking, and by the fact that in Tokio, one of the largest cities in the world, one could go about day or night in perfect safety. I told this to the Maid of Miyanoshita. "So desuka," she said without surprise, and that means "Indeed." And when she said later that there were many Japanese novelists, but they did not write love stories, I was reminded further that I had seen no man in Japan turn his head to look at a woman who had passed him--no exchange of glances, no street gallantry at all. "The song of the 'Goo-goo Eyes,'" I said, "would never have been written in Japan." "What iss 'Goo-goo Eyes'?" said the Little Maid, mystified. Then had I trouble--but I must have made it clear at last. "Perhaps the Japanese girl does not want to be seen--looking." "Oh, you mean that she may look, but the foreigner doesn't see it?" "Well, we are all human. That is very frank, is it not?" It was frank--very frank--and of an innocence not to be misunderstood save by a fool. Then I got a degree. "But I am always frank with you, for if you are what you say 'guilty,' I think you must understand. I call you to myself a Doctor of Humanity." Wallah, but the life is hard! * * * * * By and by this remarkable Little Maid went on: "The Japanese may be what you call in love, but they must not tell it--must not even show it." "Not even the men?" "No, not even the men. Is it not so in your country?" I laughed.