And now they enter the schoolroom. But what a schoolroom! No desks, no platform, no seats! The teacher sits down upon a mat with a small lacquered stand beside him. The children squat on the floor around him and begin to study. What queer letters in the books! You would not be able to read one word. Lotus Blossom and Toyo have already learned their alphabets. You smile, perhaps, and think, "H'm! that isn't much." Well, just wait till I tell you there are forty-seven different characters in one alphabet, while in another there are several times as many. The easy alphabet is the only one that girls must know, while boys learn both. But Lotus Blossom is a very bright child, so she studies the more difficult characters as well. Japanese books are printed very differently from ours. The lines run up and down the page, and keep the eyes of the reader busily moving. The children don't have many examples to perform, for the Japanese do not consider arithmetic so important as Americans do. Do you sigh now, and wish you could get your education in that far-away land where long division is not a daily trial? But wait till I tell you about the writing, or rather painting, lessons. You will certainly be envious. When the schoolmaster gives the signal, the children take the brushes and the cakes of India ink from their satchels. They mix a little of the ink with water, and then are ready to paint their words on the beautiful paper made in their country. Many people think that the Japanese are such fine artists because their hands are trained to use the brush from the time they are babies. It would make you laugh if I should tell you how the teacher directs the children to write letters to their friends. They must begin by writing something very poetical about the weather. They must then compose some very flowery compliments to the friend who is addressed; a sheet or two, at least, must be used in this way before they are allowed to tell the news, etc. But throughout the letter, as in fact in all conversations, Lotus Blossom and Toyo are taught to speak of themselves as very mean and humble creatures. Their kind school-teacher ends the morning lessons with proverbs. You know what these are, of course, but the ones which our Japanese cousins learn are especially about duty to their parents, and kindness to all living creatures. It would be a great sin for Toyo to tease the cat or kill a fly. His parents would be shocked beyond expression. [Illustration: A LESSON IN ARRANGING FLOWERS.]