The thoughts of the children turn naturally to rejoicing, and there are many descriptions of popular festivities after the news of victory. I give one example, from Aoki Ume, who writes from Honmura School:--“I am a girl student of the Second Year Grade School. I am told by my teacher to write you a letter. When I was thinking what would interest you most, news came of the fall of Liao-yang. Then the citizens of Tokio assembled to celebrate the victory. Every street filled with flags and lanterns, and the night became as bright as day. The lights were reflected on the flags. It was very beautiful. We owe you much, for these nice scenes are the result of your victories. Banzai!” Chapter XLVI COMRADES AT LAST. AN INCIDENT OF BATTLE. I tell the story as it was told to me by an officer of General Kuroki’s Staff. On a bare hill-top, strewn with the debris of war, lay fourteen wounded soldiers. Through the long, hot day they had fought, and now the tide of battle swept on, leaving them like wreckage cast up by an angry sea. Eight were bearded men and six were smooth-faced Japanese. The golden mist that glowed among the giant millet was tinged with crimson. Night was about to add her terrors to the stricken field. As the shadows stole up the mountain a strange fear crept into the hearts of these men. Their eyes grew wide with dread at the sights and sounds amid which they might sleep the sleep that knows no waking. Darkness could not hide the horrors that had burned into their brains. To each grim detail the waning light gave new and awful realism. Dead eyes looked out from under the peaked caps: the broken bayonets bled: grisly hands held the paper fans: crimson gashes gaped under the red shoulder straps: skeleton fingers turned over the stained page of pocket book and diary: fountains of blood welled out of rent garments and linen bands and strips of cloth that anguished hands had pressed into riven flesh: writhing forms covered the purple stains: livid arms rose from the red earth and beckoned to the common grave: the fragments of shell, the spent bullets, the empty cartridge cases and shattered rifles roared and hissed and spluttered and flashed--all the nameless horrors of the battlefield took shape and sound in the twilight.