Though Chinese men drink considerable potent spirits, women of the race seldom, if ever, imbibe. They say it makes their faces red--and it does. Their men discourage them from drinking, but white wolves, aware of the effect of champagne on slant-eyed dolls, try to load them with it, often with encouraging results. The Chinese call us "white devils," _lo fan_ or _fan guey_, and their word for wolf is _chai long_. Their favorite drinks are _mui kai low_ and _ng ga pai_. Don't try either unless you possess a strong stomach. b.--_Little Tokyo_ Before the war, there were few Japanese in New York. Most of them were treaty merchants, technicians or students, who evaporated with Pearl Harbor. But then came the influx of Japs from the West Coast states. As many as 10,000 are reported to have moved here after being released from relocation centers, while countless thousands more came East before the final deadline to vacate Pacific areas. There was no Jap-baiting here. Many have since gone home. There had been no "Little Tokyo" here. Now there are at least three small ones in Manhattan, alone. The most concentrated one is in 65th Street, near Broadway, in the heart of the Filipino colony. Another, but sporadic, Jap settlement runs from 18th to 23rd Streets, near Ninth Avenue. A third group lives on the upper West Side, from Columbia University southward into the 90's and 80's where there are several Japanese churches, Christian, Shinto and Buddhist, and northward into Washington Heights. Since the war, the Japs have taken an even less active place in the community than do the Chinese. Few are merchants or storekeepers. They, however, mix more freely with whites. The girls, especially, are found working in American offices, hospitals, hotels and even in show business, where many of the "Chinese" acts really are Japanese. There are three Nipponese restaurants in New York, specializing in such concoctions as _suki yaki_, the national dish, and _saki_, the national knockout. These operated unhindered all during the war and were patronized by Americans and Chinese as well as Japs. Miyako's in 56th Street, just west of Fifth Avenue, is internationally famous. Among New York Japs there is considerably less resentment against the relocation than appears on the West Coast. Those resident here before the war and those who came shortly after Pearl Harbor escaped confinement in concentration camps completely, while those who were shut in for short periods missed the worst of the indignity. In this tolerant city, even during the height of the war, they found sympathy and encouragement and employment. With few exceptions, white neighbors treated them hospitably. They were not made to feel like a special, inferior class. Even the Chinese welcomed them and gave them employment.